1) Create a contrived story
The premise of The Ultimatum is an interesting one with a lot of dramatic potential–rape, switched at birth, family politics, with a little bit of Shakespeare’s crossing dressing and mistaken identity thrown in. But, those are just the broadstrokes. How the story actually works out is another matter altogether because the plot is so threadbare, it doesn’t hold up against the slightest scrutiny.
Apart from the examples already mentioned in previous posts, what about these:
Why would the clever and conniving Zoe Tay raise the issue of her parentage at her father’s memorial service? Why would she do so when she is surrounded by “family” members who would find it objectionable and very likely raise a stink? Why would those “family” members allow her to give an eulogy if she is no longer a Ye and they resent her? Surely the family knows the difference between helming the company and heading the family, right? Surely the writers would know this wouldn’t they? Well, obviously not. And as for the recurring ruckus over Zoe Tay’s parentage, I only have 2 words to say: DNA test (!!!!!!).
Why does it take Felicia Chin and everyone else around her so long to realise that she needs medication and therapy? Wouldn’t those be the first things that come to mind? Apparently not because the storytellers would rather have her rant and rave like a lunatic and beat up her boyfriend a few times before the penny finally drops. In the meantime, the tedium of her delirium takes its toll on the audience.
Even her madness doesn’t explain how Felicia Chin and her boyfriend can have a whole conversation with and HEAR each other with a glass wall between them–they were pretending he was in prison, it seems. Oh please. There is a fine line between drawing out the drama and stretching it.
Also, how on earth do Tay Ping Hui and Terence Cao always know where to look for Fann Wong? Do they have superpowers? Is she wearing a tracking device? If not, why do these 2 men keep turning up? Pulling the coincidence card too much only makes the story contrived and completely unrealistic. If you ask me, I’d say the storytellers either didn’t think it through or didn”t care. Either way, it makes for lazy storytelling.
2) Stir in a poor man’s idea of how a rich man lives
This is something I’ve been wanting to say since the first episode: what’s with the suits and dressing up for dinner like it’s a cocktail party? 
Sure, dinner can be rather formal in some wealthy households, but VERY RARELY are they so elaborate. Perhaps the stylists don’t know the difference between dressing for dinner and dressing up. And what about the suits? I get that you want to make the series look “stylish” and “glamorous” and there is nothing wrong with that. But this is not the platform for unfulfilled runway dreams.
There are very, very, very few occasions in Singapore that require a suit, so it is already a stretch for these actors to wear suits to work. But when you have them wear suits all the time–to dinner at home, to the club, to torture Felicia Chin, to a kelong–it simply becomes ridiculous. And the actors look ridiculous as well. How do you expect the characters to be realistic when you’ve made them look and behave so unrealistically?
Yes, Tay Ping Hui, you have hit the nail on the head. The subtitle says everything. What we have here is not a picture of how the wealthy live. It is a picture of how a poor man thinks a rich man lives. And don’t even get me started on the poor clothing choice. Lest you think it’s personal, Zoe Tay isn’t the only one who dresses implausibly. For example, is this how a victim of domestic abuse dresses to court?
And what about this example?
Ok, so we’ve established that one is a mutton dressed as lamb. But what about Fann Wong? Is this how a lawyer dresses? What’s with the tube dress over a dress shirt? Didn’t you get the memo? This is a trend that didn’t take off.
3) Season well with generally bad acting all round and a handful of good ones
I have said enough about the bad acting. Let’s focus on the good ones. Apart from Tay Ping Hui and Fann Wong, the other 2 who stand out are Chen Shucheng (Li Nanxing take note: this is how an Ah Beng should age) and Constance Song (Zoe Tay take note: this is how you can be scheming and complex).
Oh, and Chen Shucheng’s eyelids, which out-acted the young ones, deserve the nomination for Best Supporting Actor at this year’s Star Awards–hey if Joanne Peh can win Best Actress for her obviously supporting role in The Little Nonya, why can’t Chen Shucheng’s eyelids win as well?
4) Serve it in high definition (?)
If Mediacorp didn’t make such a fuss about The Ultimatum being the first series to be shot in high definition, I would never have noticed. After all, there is nothing much about this series that looks different. The lighting is as flat as ever, making the scenes look uninteresting. There’s no texture. No shadow. No definition. As usual. So what’s the fuss?
In contrast, look at what Fighting Spiders has done with the technology. It looks so good. The scenes have texture and dimension. They look interesting. Rumour has it Spiders was shot using only a small camera. And yet look at what it managed to accomplish. Maybe the fact that it was done by an independent production house and not Mediacorp makes all the difference. After all, it’s not like Mediacorp is known for being creative, is it?
