Director Ang Geck Geck’s Journey in Creating “Ah Girl” – Exclusive Interview

Having shared the spotlights in Rotterdam, Hong Kong, and ahead of its premiere in Shanghai, director Ang Geck Geck Priscilla’s debut feature Ah Girl, 13 years in the making, presents a bittersweet self-healing childhood of a 7-year-old curious girl Swee Swee (Xuanjing ONG) in the post-divorce turbulence of her parents.

Ah Girl comes from a place of genuine honesty, drawn from Ang’s own childhood experiences. For her, and likely for many viewers, the film speaks to the parts of us that were once too sensitive and had to grow up too quickly.

“The emotional isolation and longing experienced by the child protagonist would have felt very different in today’s world,” shares Ang. In a story that happens in 1994, the emptiness and craving for company are conceived in a more physical way for children without technology. Therefore, during the time Ah Girl and Ah Tian spent without their parents, their feelings of separation and loneliness became stronger. They became more aware of the sadness, blame, disappointment, and anger building beneath the roof. Yet within that same space, their imagination was free to roam, allowing them to create small adventures and moments of escape of their own.

Don’t we all imitate adults when we are children sometimes? I think all of us have experienced that in one way or another. Children are constantly observing the adults around them and trying to make sense of the world through imitation.

Laughter comes when Ah Girl puts on a wig to imitate her grandma, or when she suddenly acts like a diva after finding out her crush, Shawn, has a girlfriend. These moments are natural and funny because they come from her childlike imagination and the way she sees the world. That’s what makes her feel like a real kid. Despite Ah Girl’s imagination and Ah Tian’s natural humour, much of the film’s charm comes from the young actors themselves. Ang created a playful and comfortable environment on set, using games and real-life situations to encourage natural reactions.

We recently caught up with director Ang to talk about the film, its characters, and the research behind it.

View of the Arts: This story feels very personal and sincere. What drove you to tell this story?

Ang Geck Geck: I’ve been writing Ah Girl for more than ten years. I started at 25; now I’m 38. In that time, I made a trilogy of short films – Broken Crayon, Three Little Pigs, and Happy Birthday – all circling around the emotional terrain of my childhood. Those shorts received unexpected recognition, and that gave me the courage to keep exploring this world and made me realise something important: the emotional experiences I thought were unique to me were actually familiar to many people. That recognition gave me the confidence to continue shaping this world into my first feature. Looking back, it felt natural, almost inevitable, to grow the story into my first feature film.

I grew up with my grandparents and my younger sister. My parents were rarely present, and from a very young age, I felt the need to grow up quickly. At school, I often felt “different” – not well-liked by teachers or classmates, always trying hard to be the version of myself that others wanted. I thought becoming an adult would solve everything. I believed that if I could take care of others, I would finally be worthy of love.

For much of my childhood, the adults around me were unhappy. So I tried to make them happy – that was my way of loving them. Only later did I realise I was trying to receive a love they didn’t know how to give. That longing shaped many of the choices I made in my 20s and early 30s. I kept chasing the wrong kind of love, and when the right kind came along, I struggled to accept it.

Ah Girl grew out of that emotional truth – of a child trying to understand the world through silence, small disappointments, and unspoken hope. This film is my attempt to revisit that period of my life with compassion, honesty, and clarity. It’s not about recreating the past, but about understanding it – and finally giving that little girl the space to be seen and heard. Ah Girl is a gentle reminder that even in quiet environments, children feel everything, and every child deserves space, understanding, and the freedom to be themselves.

VOA: As a highly committed decade-long project, what kept you motivated to continue with Ah Girl?

Ang Geck Geck: I think beyond passion, what kept me going was really belief – belief in the story, and belief in why I wanted to tell it. Even during the difficult periods, I never fully lost faith in the film.

I’m also someone who doesn’t give up easily by nature. While trying to finance and develop Ah Girl, I continued honing my craft through other projects and creative works. I understood that filmmaking is a very long journey, especially for independent cinema.

Looking back now, the 10 years passed surprisingly quickly. It’s quite funny because at the moments when I thought maybe it was finally time to let the project go, something unexpected would happen — and eventually, we received development support from IMDA for the feature. That gave me the feeling that perhaps the film still had a reason to exist and continue its journey.

VOA: During the research phase, you have visited social organisations of children and family services. Is there any unforgettable experience or finding that you could share with us?

Ang Geck Geck: It has been quite a long time, so I may not remember every specific conversation with the social workers I interviewed during the research phase. But what stayed with me most was actually how the process slowly turned inward. While doing research with organisations focused on children and family services, I found myself being encouraged to seek counselling and therapy as well. That experience became unexpectedly important to the development of the film.

The script kept evolving after that, because I slowly realised I was no longer just researching children or family dynamics. I was also trying to understand myself, my own memories, and why I felt compelled to tell this story in the first place. In many ways, the research process became an emotional journey of reflection, and that changed the film quite deeply.

VOA: The story is set around the 90s. What’s specific about that time that prompts you to create Ah Girl?

Ang Geck Geck: The film is based on my personal experiences, and I grew up in Singapore during the 90s, so I wanted the world of Ah Girl to feel as authentic and truthful as possible.

What felt especially important about setting the story in the late 90s was that it was a very different emotional environment compared to today. Back then, we didn’t have smartphones or instant communication. If a child wanted to reach their parents, there was often a real sense of distance, helplessness, and uncertainty.

That feeling became very relevant to the story because the emotional isolation and longing experienced by the child protagonist would have felt very different in today’s world. The 90s setting allowed me to capture a kind of childhood vulnerability and emotional intensity that I personally remember growing up with.

VOA: The two young leads are remarkably natural. What is the moment during casting that makes you believe “they are the one”?

Ang Geck Geck: For the younger sister, Ah Tian, I knew quite quickly when Sydney first walked into the audition room. She had this very natural charm and an undeniable X-factor. She was also genuinely funny and had a kind of spontaneity that you can’t really teach. The energy she brought immediately made the character feel alive.

For Ah Girl, with Xuan Jing, I think deep down I always felt she was the one, but I wanted to take time to be absolutely sure because the role carried a lot of emotional weight for me personally. What struck me most about her was that she reminded me of a younger version of myself – very sensitive, but also sensible and quietly caring at the same time. She had an emotional depth and awareness that felt incredibly truthful to the character I had been carrying in my mind for years.

I think children sometimes understand things more clearly than adults because they don’t overthink in the same way we do. They experience emotions very directly and honestly. At the same time, children can also be forced to grow up too quickly because of the situations around them.

VOA: How do you construct a kid’s inner world and conceive their perception of surroundings, such as when Ah Girl puts on grandma’s wig and acts like a little adult?

Ang Geck Geck: Don’t we all imitate adults when we are children sometimes? I think all of us have experienced that in one way or another. Children are constantly observing the adults around them and trying to make sense of the world through imitation.

For me, constructing a child’s inner world starts with understanding their real environment; their relationships with parents, siblings, and the emotional atmosphere they grow up in. During the process, I spent time learning more about the children’s real-life experiences and personalities, then tried to align those emotional truths with the script.

Rather than asking the child actors to “act,” I often use play to bring emotions out naturally. I would create situations, games, or real-life scenarios for them to respond to instinctively, so that the emotions come from genuine reactions rather than performance.

It was also very important for me to create a safe, comfortable, and fun environment on set. I wanted the children to feel protected and free enough to express themselves naturally. I think when children feel safe, they stop performing and simply become present – and that honesty is something very beautiful to capture on screen.

VOA: It is a very Singaporean film, given that both English (Ah Girl) and Chinese (泡泡糖女孩) titles are idiomatic terms and iconic symbols of Singapore. How did that pairing come to you? Was “bubble gum” an element you had in mind at the very beginning, or did it come in at a later stage? What made you decide to keep it?

Ang Geck Geck: The bubble gum element was there from the very beginning. Growing up, I remember questioning why Singapore had banned bubble gum, and that curiosity stayed with me over the years. At the same time, I have vivid memories of trying to secretly sell bubble gum at school as a child just to earn a little pocket money.

Swee Swee’s black-market gum trade reads as a quiet, instinctive rebellion. It’s less an ideological protest than a survival strategy that reveals who she is: resourceful, unwilling to accept rules that suffocate her family’s needs, and ready to bend the system to protect those she loves. That refusal to conform shapes her daily choices and hardens her, forcing her into risky, morally ambiguous situations that make life tougher rather than easier. By contrast, Ah Tian’s compliance highlights another path: safety through obedience, social acceptance, and fewer immediate threats, but also less agency. The gum business, therefore, becomes a character shorthand – a small, contraband act that exposes Swee Swee’s defiance, creativity, and the personal costs of refusing to prioritize harmony over survival.

Choosing the Chinese title was hard – I considered Spider Girl or Chewing Gum Girl, but Chewing Gum Girl felt right. Chewing gum suggests you can restart when a bubble bursts; it’s flexible and resilient. It also captures an “Ah Lian” kind of rebelliousness in her – a scrappy, defiant energy that fits Swee Swee perfectly.

VOA: The bittersweetness behind the story reveals the coexistence of innocence and prematurity in children. How do you understand and navigate this balance/ imbalance?

Ang Geck Geck: I think children sometimes understand things more clearly than adults because they don’t overthink in the same way we do. They experience emotions very directly and honestly. At the same time, children can also be forced to grow up too quickly because of the situations around them.

Even when children are exposed to difficult emotions or adult problems, they still find ways to play, imagine, laugh, and hold onto small moments of joy. I didn’t want to approach the story in an overly melodramatic way. For me, the film is ultimately hopeful. Life can be painful and confusing sometimes, but even within hardship, there are still moments of warmth, humour, and connection. I think that contradiction is what makes life and childhood very beautiful and interesting.

I also believe that while our childhood may shape who we become, it does not have to define us completely. As we grow older, we still have choices in how we move forward, what we hold onto, and what we choose to let go of.

Written and interviewed by Jane Wei

_{View of the Arts is an online publication dedicated to film, music, and the arts, with a strong focus on the Asian entertainment industry. As we continue to grow, we aim to deepen our coverage of Asian music while remaining committed to exploring and celebrating creativity across the global arts landscape.}