After years of believing she was merely average, Singaporean cinematographer Bao Le Cheok moved to Los Angeles to pursue filmmaking. The journey tested her security, identity and understanding of home.
“At one point during my first year in Los Angeles, everything I owned was packed inside my car. I had left the room I was renting in a hurry after reaching a point where I no longer felt safe staying there.
Suddenly, I had no permanent place to stay in a city thousands of kilometres from my family. It was not how I had imagined pursuing my dream would look.
Growing up in Singapore, I often felt as though I was living in the shadow of my own expectations. I was not a bad student, but I was never exceptional either. No matter how hard I tried, academic success did not seem to come naturally.
When school became overwhelming, I found myself reaching for a camera. Photography became an escape. Through the lens, I discovered a way of seeing the world that was not measured by grades or report cards.
From 2016 to 2020, I studied at Nanyang Technological University’s School of Art, Design and Media. In 2017, my two friends and I decided to create a trailer inspired by The Blair Witch Project for an assignment. I served as the director of photography.
We camped in the woods of Punggol to gather footage. The experience was both frightening and exhilarating. The most remarkable part was not simply using the camera—it was experiencing what three aspiring filmmakers could create together.
Photography had often been a solitary pursuit; but, filmmaking required us to contribute different ideas and skills towards a shared vision. For the first time, I experienced the magic of building a story collectively. That feeling has never left me.
In 2023, at the age of 27, I moved to Los Angeles to pursue an MFA in Cinematography at the American Film Institute Conservatory. Everything felt unfamiliar.
I had to drive on the opposite side of the road, adapt to different cultures and communication styles, and learn how to navigate daily life without my family nearby.
My first landlord initially appeared kind, and I assumed she genuinely wanted to look after me. Having never lived outside Singapore, I did not understand what a typical landlord–tenant relationship should look like.
I was not allowed to cook freely because of the smell. She also complained when I showered after returning from late shoots because the sound disturbed her sleep.
At first, I believed that renting a room meant I simply had to accept her rules. It was only after speaking to classmates that I realised the arrangement was unusual. A series of incidents eventually led me to leave.
I packed everything into my car and spent almost two weeks without a home of my own. Thankfully, a classmate who was travelling allowed me to stay in his apartment. His generosity gave me somewhere safe to sleep while I worked out what to do next.
The experience taught me to recognise my boundaries and speak up when something felt wrong. It also taught me that accepting someone’s kindness did not mean accepting conditions that made me uncomfortable.
Throughout those difficult periods, I often called my parents and told them I was fine—even when I was not. Part of me did not want them to worry. Another part feared that they might ask me to return home before I had given myself the chance to see the journey through.
My greatest period of self-doubt arrived shortly before graduating in 2025. I began questioning what I could realistically build in Los Angeles as a Singaporean woman trying to establish herself as a cinematographer.
What if I could not find enough work? What if I could not pay my rent? What if I could not support myself while continuing to pursue the career I loved?
Returning to Singapore seemed easier. I understood the environment, and my family and friends were there. I could leave the uncertainty behind and begin again. I am glad I did not listen to that voice.
Life in Los Angeles has not suddenly become secure. Some months, I struggle to make ends meet and accept almost every job I can find. In better months, I have room to breathe, write and connect with collaborators.
I maintain an active contact list and follow up whenever a lead appears. I cook most of my meals, live within my means and budget for fluctuating expenses such as petrol and car insurance.
Stability, I have learnt, does not always mean reaching a point where nothing is uncertain. Sometimes, it means learning how to continue through the unstable periods.
After graduating, I worked as the cinematographer on Sesaat Aja, directed by Joy Suryakusuma. The film follows a workaholic daughter processing the grief of losing her father to cancer by revisiting their memories through food.
My education had prepared me to work with professional crews on relatively large productions. Sesaat Aja, on the other hand, taught me that a film does not need a large crew to be effective.
Every story asks for something different. Filmmaking is about understanding what a particular story needs and making thoughtful use of the people, time and resources available.
Ironically, the farther I travelled from home, the more I appreciated where I came from. I used to speak frequently about how much I disliked living in Singapore, but living overseas has created a quiet ache for home.
After several years abroad, I feel a much stronger pull towards my roots and the people and environments that shaped me. Growing up with my grandmother while my parents worked gave me a lasting affection and respect for older people.
I remain fascinated by ageing—what it means to accept change while continuing to find meaning, humour and love. These ideas shaped Finding Yiyi, my AFI thesis film, and they continue to influence the stories I hope to tell.
I have also drafted a story about two beer uncles who spend their time together at a kopitiam. It is a project I hope to bring to life one day. Living abroad has made me want to look back at Singapore—not to idealise it, but to understand the everyday people and experiences that made me who I am.
For years, I believed I was only average. Perhaps filmmaking is still teaching me otherwise. Success is not always about being the best person in the room. Sometimes, it is about finding the thing that keeps calling you back—the thing that gives you the courage to be bad at it, fail at it and keep going anyway.
I still do not know exactly where this road will lead. For the first time in my life, however, I am excited to find out.”— Bao Le Cheok
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