Q&A with Filmmaker Bill Chen
Bill Chen
Bill Chen is a South African writer, director, and editor whose deeply personal storytelling is shaped by his upbringing in the Asian diaspora of post-apartheid South Africa. Navigating this complex cultural intersection, filmmaking became his language to explore hidden emotional landscapes, fractured identities, and the quiet injustices embedded in everyday life. His artistic approach—grounded in nuanced character studies and unflinching emotional honesty—often poses difficult questions rather than offering easy answers, aiming to spark meaningful dialogue around overlooked human experiences and challenge deeply-rooted societal taboos.
This Q&A is part of the Bushwick Film Fest Filmmaker Q&A series
Chicken (2025)
What inspired you to create this film, and how did the initial idea come to you?
Well, the film is basically what happened to me as a 9-year-old kid, but I blocked that memory out for most of my life since it happened. It wasn’t really until the pandemic — when we were all locked inside, and stuck with all the internal shit I was running away from — that I was forced to confront that part of my life. I didn’t immediately jump on the idea of making it into a film because I thought it was maybe a bit self-absorbed to make a film about my own life. But, the story structure just kept screaming at me, bugging me to put it down on paper. It was really only when I could see the script in front of me that I was able to remove myself from the narrative and think that it would make a great short film — something that has a compelling story structure, with something important to say, that I had never seen before, and that just wasn’t being discussed.
Why does this story need to be told now?
I feel like this particular ‘category’ of sexual violence is just not being talked about, yet it happens far more than we realise. I mean, just in the course of sharing this project — from sharing the script, pitching, to festival screenings — the amount of men who’ve come forward to me to say they’ve been through similar experiences is honestly quite terrifying. And this is the thing — if we don’t talk about it, it just gets buried: by shame, by ignorance, by a sheer wilfulness to ignore the problem. I think hyper-masculinity and sexual violence is being discussed more and more, which is great — I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable opening up about this story if it hadn’t been for all the groundwork laid before me — but that just shows that talking about it opens up the conversation for others to come forward with their own experiences and demystify what many people struggle through alone.
What do you hope audiences will take away from watching your film?
For general audiences, I hope they walk away asking themselves: how have I, consciously or not, been part of this culture of silence and fragile masculinity? For those who have lived this silence, I hope the film reminds them they are not — and have never been — alone. (And yes, selfishly I hope people see this and tell themselves, “we need to give this guy money to make more shit”)
How do you feel about your film being screened in front of a festival audience?
We always knew we were making an intense film about a very taboo subject matter that would be hard to programme. That’s why it’s so meaningful to have Bushwick step up and embrace it. It shows they’re willing to take risks on difficult conversations, and I really respect that. It takes guts to stand behind a film like this — and I really commend them for it. Kudos to the programming team.
What’s the last film you watched?
I recently watched John Carpenter’s The Thing for the first time. I know. I’m extremely late to the game, but I usually struggle with practical effects from older movies — the jank often takes me too far out of the experience — which is a shame because I know I’m missing out on a lot of great horror movies. The movie was fucking great though. The practical effects, incredible; the story, compelling; pacing, fantastic; cinematography, amazing; and it’s just so refreshing to see a horror movie where the characters don’t make completely brainless decisions, which I guess makes sense, given they’re all scientists. Also, Kurt Russell is never half-bad to look at.
What’s the last book you read?
I read Notes of a Native Son by James Baldwin maybe a month ago. I deeply connect with his work and find his writing to be incredibly powerful. His writing can be dense sometimes. I have to admit I have to re-read paragraphs quite often, but it’s always profoundly moving. His chapter on the relationship with his father struck the most, especially given the context of my own film — how he so adamantly wanted to cling to his hatred of him, even in his death. I can’t do it justice, so I’m just gonna quote a sentence here that really moved me: “I imagine that one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, that they will be forced to deal with pain.”
What three things do you always have in your refrigerator?
Hot sauce, garlic, sparkling water.
This Q&A is part of the Bushwick Film Fest Filmmaker Q&A series