In a world where music videos often serve as glossy advertisements for unattainable lifestyles, Plato III’s I Want (Money) arrives like a Trojan horse—playful on the surface, but packed with critique. Released via Polyvinyl Records, the three minute and half visual flips the familiar tale of wealth-chasing on its head, reimagining it as a surrealist performance piece. At the helm of this pointed, puppet-like theatre is Singaporean director and photographer Lenne Chai, whose distinct visual vocabulary and ironic elegance breathe both humour and heartbreak into every frame.

For Chai, whose past work spans photography (full disclosure: she has shot for us before), fashion films, and conceptual storytelling, I Want (Money) is yet another example of her ability to infuse the absurd with poignancy. In her hands, this isn’t just a song about money, it’s an indictment of the spectacle surrounding it. Her camera doesn’t chase glamour. It captures irony, vulnerability, and the haunting theatre of identity under capitalism.

We caught up with her over email to explore the creative journey behind the music video, from the early sparks of inspiration to the challenges faced during production, and the visual language that brought it all to life.

ESQUIRE SINGAPORE: You’ve cited Gilbert Garcin, Jacques Tati, and the Japanese variety show Kasou Taishou as key inspirations. What drew you specifically to these references over others? Was there a distinct visual language you had in mind from the outset, or did the aesthetic evolve more instinctively as the project unfolded?

LENNE CHAI: I was interested in what would create the most visual impact within our limitations and was drawn to the idea of exploring TV spectacle within a black box space, and immediately thought of Gilbert Garcin’s photography. I wanted the video to feel minimal yet polished–and there’s truly no greater low budget DIY reference than Kasou Taishou. When it comes to visual comedy, there’s no one quite like Jacques Tati. I only hope we achieved even a 10th of a fraction of what Playtime did in terms of its commentary on consumerism.

ES: What was one unexpected thing the artist brought that changed your original vision?

LC: Working with Ryan (Plato III) is always a joy—he brings a clear vision to every project and is incredibly collaborative. He even turned up early to set, which is frankly unheard of for a rapper, as our Director of Photography, Joel Wolter, who shoots a lot of rap music videos, can attest.

ES: How did you find the emotional tone between the song’s meaning and your visual storytelling?

LC: The desire for money is such a universal, relatable feeling, and it plays a major role in both the American and Singaporean dream. Ryan and I had discussed early on drawing inspiration from his experiences as a game show contestant.

We wanted to create a throughline across the music videos, and this one picks up the story of the delivery rider from our previous video "Good Problems". After watching a wealthy Plato III prance around his mansion, Ryan now has one thing on his mind: money. His pursuit takes him through a series of increasingly dangerous game shows, and I hope we captured what it feels like to navigate the difficulties and absurdities of our capitalistic world.

ES: Was there ever a moment when you and the artist found yourselves at odds creatively? If so, how did that shape the final video?

LC: I wish we had a juicier story to tell, but honestly we were pretty in sync from start to finish.

ES: Were there any hidden visual metaphors planted in the video that you hope only a few sharp-eyed viewers will catch?

LC: My favourite sequence is our American Ninja Warrior-inspired segment, ingeniously choreographed by Joesar Alva. True to the song’s title, we had sky-high ambitions and a very humble budget, which led us to embrace DIY practical stunts. These were performed by men in black morph suits, and I hope people spot them—they’re literally helping us make the special effects happen in real life

ES: What did you shoot first, and how did that moment set the tone for everything that followed?

LC: We kicked things off with all the green screen work. That moment really set the tone and reassured everyone that Ryan is a fantastic actor who’s fully committed to the role.

ES: If someone watches I Want (Money) ten years from now, what do you hope they take away from it—beyond the visuals?

LC: When I’m feeling enlightened, I’ll say things like, “You can’t ever have enough money!”—but I also remember what it’s like to be broke, desperate, and ashamed of wanting more. That emotional whiplash is real. I hope people feel seen, and maybe a little comforted knowing they’re not the only ones spinning on this game show wheel.

ES: The concept originated from Plato III’s real-life game show experience. How did you decide which elements of that reality to keep literal and where to lean into the surreal?

LC: Ryan’s real-life game show experiences gave us a great springboard for ideas, but we definitely had fun pushing what’s usually a semi-verbal medium into pure visual spectacle. The elements we kept literal–like the American Idol-inspired logo for our dance segment American Boogie, designed by motion graphics artist Kimberly Ong—helped ground the audience in what was happening. But beyond that, I was curious how far we could take it.

One moment that stands out was trying to bring this image to life: Ryan spinning on a Wheel of Fortune wheel. We spent a lot of pre-production figuring out how to build it, until Christiana Herodotou (who almost came on board) suggested a miniature wheel that actually spins. A lot of our visual effects involved practical props like this one, and VFX artist Justin Leung worked his magic to seamlessly bring it all together in post.

ES: You mentioned watching Kasou Taishou, a Japanese show. How did that nostalgic connection shape the emotional tone of the video beneath its surrealism?

LC: Kasou Taishou was the first show that showed me creativity could be both hilarious and low-budget. It reminds me of cosy Sunday nights in the ’90s, huddled in front of the telly with family. Because of the language barrier, I had to rely entirely on the visuals to understand what was going on—so in a way, it became my first lesson in visual storytelling and comedy.

ES: There’s a moment where Plato III’s head appears on a dinner plate. Was there any specific meaning behind it, or was it just for visuals?

LC: We’re always saying we should eat the rich… but more often than not, it feels like it’s the have-nots getting eaten. That moment with Ryan’s head on the dinner plate is one of my favourite practical set pieces from the shoot. Our production designer, Leah Waters-Katz, executed it (pun intended) perfectly, with help from our art assistants Melissa Zhuang and Katrina Songco. Kat even brought in a ton of leftover fabric from a show with a certain redacted pop star (who shall remain nameless) to help us save some cash.

ES: What was the hardest illusion to pull off, and which moment surprised you most on camera?

LC: Our incredible team, led by Joesar, had rehearsed the stunt sequences with Ryan to perfection, but executing them in-camera was still a challenge. For the opening shot of our stunt sequence, where Ryan is “running” on the camera lens, we had him lie sideways and do the running equivalent of bicycle crunches, while the stunt team moved the bars of light in sync with the music.

One of the camera team’s favourite moments, however, wasn’t even choreographed: the slow-motion shot of fruit falling. It was one of those happy accidents that turned out beautifully.