Spellcheck’s Benedict Cumberbatch once described spending his adolescence at an all-male boarding school as “just crap”. Indeed, adolescence is a mosquito plagued, festering marshland of ill-fitting misery. Its a grim prison of clammy anxiety punctuated by the occasional conjugal visit, snapchat and the knowledge that one day you will be released from all that staid sameness and frustration. As such do we account for the enduring popularity of Catcher in the Rye, The Virgin Suicides and perhaps even Stephen King who, for all his horror credentials, has for his readers seemingly captured the vulnerability, innocence, joy and destruction of adolescence, except for that gang bang somewhere towards the end of IT, which was all shades of murky wrongness, Stephen. And so, if people experience adolescence then might we not argue the same, after a fashion, for cultures and countries?

Singapore is this year celebrating its 50th year since independence was somewhat forced upon it by Malaysia, and not by Britain as many in the UK assume, itself a dim legacy of our own colonial geo-centrism. Despite occupying a tiny island half the size of London, Singapore enjoys some of the cleanest air in Asia, world class educational results in so-called core subjects, architectural gems such as the undulating modernism of the Marina Bay Sands, a polyglot, technocratic population, the best airport in the world and an enviable social housing system that Margaret Thatcher tried to borrow and got so hideously wrong. The food is also sublime. Indeed, perhaps the only obvious infrastructural development Singapore should consider is the wholesale import of those remarkable Japanese robot toilets. Seriously, put them everywhere. Yet at 50 Singapore is, by most nation-state standards, an adolescent. While it has largely avoided the Newcastle Brown Ale guzzling, liquorice rizla purchasing, shower avoiding, “you’re-tearing-me-apart” hollering emo excesses of many teenagers, and indeed more closely resembles a promise ring wearing, fitness enthusiast, “I’m-going-to-study-business-management-at-St-Andrews”, goody-two shoes, Singapore remains a young nation taking steps towards a fully fledged, self-actualised identity.

Singapore possesses some of the finest arts spaces in Asia. The ArtScience Museum by the marina bay is gorgeous. The Esplanade theatre and concert venues are fabulous. But as yet the diversity and depth of the arts exhibited inside do not quite match their environment. There are increasing visits from international artists of the highest calibre. The National recently hypnotised Fort Canning Park, Rufus Wainwright sold out the Esplanade theatre and the Da Vinci exhibition at the ArtScience Museum was incredible. Crucially, ex-patriots make up only a part of the audience. Singaporeans, well educated and travelled, are increasingly amorous for more. Yet it will take a while longer before local schools, colleges and university produce the critical mass of Singaporean artists required to give those sensational venues the identity they deserve. Indeed, Singapore’s film industry is producing less films now than it was a decade ago. This year’s biggest hit was Ah Boys to Men III: Frogmen.

Stand up comedy is a useful barometer of the cultural development of a community. Its blending of individual bravery, social commentary and intelligent articulation enables the fostering of ideas that in turn inspire the next generation of artists. The most popular stand up comedian in Singapore is currently Kumar, a familiar drag act specialising in poking fun at the different ethnic groups that make Singapore’s population so diverse and unique. Indeed, it was telling that at the recent Kings of Comedy Asia tour whilst Kumar brought down the house, the brilliant Arj Barker, a Flight of the Conchords’ alum, found his set greeted with moderate indifference and not a few walk outs. That said, there remains tremendous potential. In fact, the best performance at Kings of Comedy was by the young, relatively unknown Singaporean comic Jinx Yeo, who delivered the single finest gag of the evening. Delivering his material with an endearing wide-eyed earnestness familiar to those with experience of Singaporean English, he said,  “I think there should be a Chinese superhero… Captain China. You know, Captain America has a shield that he throws! Maybe Captain China could throw pirated DVDs. And Captain China’s superpower could be lending money to Captain America.” Unafraid to take on some of the sacred cows of modern Singapore, Jinx Yeo represents the potential of this tiny, young nation to develop an artistic discourse both uniquely local and fully internationalist. Or in other words, an art that is both a portrait of the place from where it developed and a mirror for that place to see itself.

About twenty years ago, Singapore’s population was around 2 million. Today it is approximately 5 and a half million. Another two to three million is expected to be added over the next twenty years. All of which makes Singapore’s smooth development, both infrastructural, financial and cultural, all the more remarkable. And indeed, the immediate future already seems bubbling with possibilities. Arguably the single most exciting venue is The Projector. If you visit London, alight at Leicester Square tube station and walk around for about ten minutes, you’ll pass by the Curzon cinema, the Prince Charles cinema and the BFI. London is a treasure trove of independent cinemas screening arthouse, documentary, classic and cult pictures. The Projector is effectively the first, and essentially the only, such enterprise in Singapore, a city-state of five and a half million people. Screening in the summer months alone has been a Tibetan film festival, a Japanese film festival and a Hitchcock season. It also hosts short film festivals for aspiring Singaporean filmmakers. And if carrying the entire weight of cinephiles upon its shoulders isn’t enough, it was also the venue for a recent vinyl record market. It is the space young, increasingly dynamic and talented Singaporeans have been crying out for. Their skinny fit trousers bursting at the seams with enthusiasm and their Michael Caine glasses steaming with joy as they participate in the birth of an artistic enterprise of which they feel truly a part.

It provides a platform where ex-pats and locals can come together without the usual divisions in wealth and opportunity. Moreover, it is housed on the 5th floor of the tower at the Golden Mile complex. Located downtown within walking distance of the Bugis shopping mecca it was designed during the 1960s, completed in the early 1970s and feels very much a product of its time. Its strange ziggurat-ish appearance led Singapore Nominated Member of Parliament, Ivan Png to describe it as a “national disgrace.” It certainly jars the eye and the initial reaction one has upon first seeing it is often revulsion and yet its avant-garde, Le Corbusier inspired steeped profile grows on you. It may be the architectural runt of the litter but this only inspires that most basic human emotion: compassion. It is therefore the perfect location to house an arts cinema, which traditionally offer a low fi environment for like minded artists and their patrons to share ideas and express kinship. If the building itself was an alienated outsider that has finally won a place in people’s hearts, so too The Projector provides an environment for artistically inclined people of any age or background to come together and participate in a community.

It also provides the venue for some fascinating social observation. Singapore, young as it is, has little experience with repertory cinema. So whilst modern classics such as Raiders of the Lost Ark may sell out at the Prince Charles cinema, only a modest audience turns up at The Projector. That said, documentaries seem disproportionately popular when compared to, say, London audiences. Meanwhile big hitting fan favourites like The Big Lebowski brought in a packed house during The Projector’s Coen Brothers season. But whilst the audience arrived in impressive cosplay (there were a lot of dressing gowns and one diabolical genius even brought his cheque book and a carton of milk) it was largely an ex-pat extravaganza. However, catering to Singapore’s large international community (Singapore plays host to multitudinous financial powerhouses and boasts over 30 international schools) and inviting them to a space distinct from the usual haunts of ex-pats where they can meet and converse with a broader range of people is surely a positive thing. Indeed, the only time ex-pats tend to head towards Golden Mile Tower is when they wish to catch the executive coaches to Kuala Lumpur that depart from the buspark.

There are also signs at The Projector that something new is developing in the way Singapore interacts with cinema. With so many Singaporeans studying at UCL, Kings College, NYU and Columbia it is perhaps not surprising that upon their return they bring with them some of the more participatory habits of London and New York’s indie, hipster audiences. The Projector recently screened the cult classic, The Room. Quite rightly regarded as one of the worst films ever made, screenings of the 2003 movie are highly codified experiences. When the image blurs out of focus, as it frequently does, the rules state the audience must yell ‘Focus!’ at the screen. When writer-director-actor-producer Tommy Wiseau enjoys a stark naked, clenching arse-shot walk to the bathroom or pathetically attempts to make sweet, curtain billowing love with his on screen girlfriend, forming such contorted body shapes so as to suggest that Wiseau’s Captain Winkie is trying to penetrate the hidden pleasures of her velvet belly button, audiences cry with raw emotion ‘Unfocus! Oh God Unfocus!” Famously, a framed painting of a spoon haunts the background of far too many scenes. When it appears, audiences are compelled to hurl plastic spoons at the screen. One would expect London and New York audiences to throw themselves with wild abandon into these frequent late night participatory events. But how would a nation populated by such a large proportion of INFPs with a visceral distaste for littering react to such behaviour? The answer was clear and unambiguous: rapturously. Art pushes you out of your comfort zone. And it is there that the magic happens.

Most powerfully, The Projector also serves as an inspiration to Singaporeans. It is not only a safe place to leap out of your comfort zone. This is most clearly expressed in its manager, Sharon. A young, polyglot who went to university in London and studied urban and city planning, she was on course to return home and enter the technocratic class where, in true Singaporean style, a plan for your future has already been mapped out ahead of you. But somewhere down the line she realised that there are other ways to plan a city than through roads, streets, avenues, apartment buildings, parks and offices. What do we need? And how do we deliver it? Having people who can pose these questions and develop the capacity to answer them is the reason why Singapore is a stable, secure and prosperous nation. But realising that there are other realms in which to innovate, and committing yourself to that endeavour, is not simply brave, it is the very stuff that brings us together, fosters creativity and turns a city into a home.

Alexander McGregor is the author of The Catholic Church and Hollywood (2013) and The Shaping of Popular Consent (2007). He was awarded a PhD in History from the University of East Anglia and is the head of history at the United World College of South East Asia. His research interests include cultural theory, ideology, propaganda and education.