Since the premiere of Singaporean Director Ang Geck Geck’s Ah Girl (2026) at Rotterdam, much has been written about the film’s tender but powerful evocation of a young girl navigating her young parents’ divorce and the moving performances of its young cast. Instead of rehashing the same deserved praise for a work that compelled this writer to tears when he first watched it, an unpacking of the film’s clever geopolitics could reveal another layer to this work’s brilliance.
Singapore brands itself as the gateway between East and West. Situated along the Strait of Malacca, which oversees Western trade into China and the East, Singapore has long occupied a geographically privileged position as an entrepôt of cultures.
It is then unlikely to be a coincidence that Ah Girl’s mother begins dating a man named Uncle Sam (an allusion to the United States), and the names of her father’s dates are associated with their Eastern nationalities of Malaysia and Japan. All three are nations that have exercised cultural and political influence over Singapore: the country was occupied by Japan, briefly part of Malaysia, and remains swayed by the United States.
Japan’s presence in the film is particularly pronounced. Ah Girl’s grandmother expresses a lingering resentment towards Japan, rooted in memories of the Second World War, but is compelled to travel there amidst the J-pop craze and the country’s growing popularity as a travel destination among Singaporeans. Decades after the Occupation, Japan’s cultural influence persists. Ms Japan is seen to be the kinder of Ah Girl’s parents’ new lovers, understanding and patient, but opulent and undesirable. At the pinnacle of ‘90s consumer culture, the film comments on the hold of Japanese consumerism on Singaporeans.
When Singapore banned chewing gum in 1992, most Singaporeans began smuggling some on weekend trips to Malaysia. Ah Girl’s Chinese title refers to its titular girl as a Bubblegum Girl. The sweet asserts itself in the plot when Ah Girl sells them in school for financial independence. Her father’s girlfriend, Ms Malaysia, is pertinently portrayed as liberated and sexy. For Singaporeans, Malaysia becomes a mecca of illicit activities.
Uncle Sam, an allusion to America, showers gifts and later is shown to be abusive. It is reminiscent of the United States’ Cold War strategy of coupling economic aid with vigorous political demands.
Ah Girl is set in 1994, a transformative period for Singapore after its economic success saw it named as one of the four “Asian Tigers”. It was also the year of the Michael Fay case, where the 18-year-old American teenager was caned by the State for vandalism despite appeals by then-American President Bill Clinton. Some would comment that Singapore’s decision was driven by a need to demonstrate strength and independence.
Ah Girl, too, longs for independence. Caught between Teochew, Mandarin and English cultures and names she herself did not know existed, she has to decide eventually on her own name and therefore her identity. Taken through this geopolitical lens, her parents’ troubled relationships can be interpreted as a commentary on Singapore’s struggle to assert its own independence from Malaysian, Japanese and American influence.
In a country like Singapore, where rapid changes subvert attempts to articulate or create a national consciousness, Ang’s ingenious suggestions of identity entrapment are perhaps the sharpest depiction of ‘90s Singapore yet. In Ah Girl, the longing for self-declarative clarity and certainty mattered more than the ability to attain or define the self. Ang has created the cleverest Singaporean film of late while remaining emotional and heartfelt at its core, sure to please a crowd.
Written by Daryl Cheong, edited by Phyllis Chan
