Behind-the-scenes tour of Mediacorp’s props storehouse: An emperor’s throne, a dog and even severed limbs

When we watch TV, we don’t often notice the chair the main character is sitting in, the mobile phone he’s holding or the fruit bowl on the table. The fact that we don’t notice indicates that a team of people working behind the scenes to create on-screen verisimilitude have done their job well.

Every drama series or variety show on television relies on props to draw the viewer in. How these props are sourced, crafted, stored, managed, cared for, used and reused – well, that could be a series in itself.

Over the years, from the original building at Caldecott Hill to the new space at Stars Avenue, our local TV productions’ cavernous props storehouse has housed everything from The Sheng Siong Show’s iconic backdrops to the original Golden Pillow from the 1995 Zoe Tay starrer of the same name, to a papier-mache model of Desmond Tan’s head for a macabre scene in 2009’s The Ultimatum in which his character is decapitated by baddies who then send the head to his father in a box. Lovely stuff.

To get to the props storehouse, located in Mediacorp’s basement, you have to cut through the carpark. The first indication you’re in the right place is trolleys full of things and movable backdrops for variety shows. Once, we spotted some giant papier-mache boulders. Of course, we had to pose for a photo holding one over our head.

Then you’ll see the front desk, where production crew must sign borrowed props in and out. And behind that, a vast split-level space filled with, well, pretty much anything you can think of.

Filming a hospital drama? There’s a collection of hospital beds, stethoscopes, anatomical models and wheelchairs of every make and type. A 1930s period drama? You’ll need the vintage typewriters, transistor radios and working rickshaws.

An ancient Chinese martial arts drama? Peek the mighty emperor’s throne that’s been in use for the last 30 years. A life-sized, stuffed golden retriever? Why, yes, there happens to be one right here. Murder mystery or criminal investigation? There’s even a severed limb department.

Props supply manager Kwok Kit Chye estimates there are at least 15,000 items stored here, from cans of beer with mock labels designed by the in-house graphics team to valuable electronics kept under lock and key.

He knows each rack and shelf intimately. Any and every interior decor style is catered for, from side tables to faux flowers. If you need a telephone, take your pick from retro plastic rotary phones, coin-operated orange public payphones and up-to-date smartphones. Wandering around here alone after dark? Don’t trip over the styrofoam tombstones.

Kwok, who in 1991 joined what was then the Singapore Broadcasting Corporation, has been working among the props for the past 34 years. He started as a studio field assistant, working his way up to manager.

His job requires keen organisational skills, he said, as it’s not easy keeping track of so many items. There is an inventory tracking system for valuable props, he shared, and when a prop is loaned out, a picture of it is taken as a record.

The most asked-for items are mobile phones and laptops, he said, as nearly every Chinese drama calls for them.

Props are constructed, bought or sourced from flea markets and secondhand online platforms.

They can’t keep everything forever, of course. With every new drama, new props are inevitably purchased. A review is done every six months, he shared.

Some props, however, are trickier to handle than others – like a live snake that once passed through.

“In the 90s, we were filming a martial arts drama, and we needed a real snake,” Kwok recalled, recounting one of his most vivid on-the-job memories. “Back then, you could still purchase live snakes at Chinatown market.”

They secured the snake in a tank, but, “the next day, we found it had escaped. Everyone panicked. We looked high and low for it. We had racks lined with baskets full of props, so we were so worried that the snake might be hiding in there, and someone might stick their hand in and get bitten.” How did this thrilling story end? The snake was never found.

It’s not just reptiles – the props department is responsible for vermin, too, when the script calls for it. Over the decades, Kwok has even seen the price of cockroaches inflate. “If we needed cockroaches for a scene, we used to pay people to catch them for us. As sanitation improved, they became more and more difficult to find. The price went up from 50 cents per roach to S$10!”

Further proof, as if we needed any, that there’s no business like show business.