I think many people never truly had a ‘normal’ childhood, especially since normal is entirely subjective. For some, it means never having to worry about missing a meal or receiving a brand‑new school bag every year. For others, it means living off second‑hand goods, where the rule is simply: if it isn’t broken, you keep using it. In Ah Girl, our eponymous lead is a young girl whose life is about to change forever as she begins to take on the emotional weight of adulthood, despite still being so young, in this powerful and engrossing film.

The film takes more of a slice‑of‑life approach to its narrative rather than following a conventional three‑act structure. We experience the ups and downs of Ah Girl’s (Ong Xuan Jing) current situation entirely through her eyes, with the cinematography reinforcing this perspective; certain shots even adopt a first-person aesthetic. It creates a beautiful lens through which the entire story unfolds. Early on, when Ah Girl imitates the confident stride of a woman she sees in a televised pageant, the moment captures a charming sense of childhood innocence.

However, as the film progresses and Ah Girl matures, she begins to view her childhood through an adult lens. Moments that would normally be seen as harmless childhood silliness, like a boy she has a crush on trying to win over multiple girls as the class’s ‘Mr Popular’, take on a darker meaning. She begins to recognise her father’s (James Seah) behaviour in her crush, and both she and the audience stop seeing the cuteness; instead, we see someone charming multiple girls at once, mirroring the kind of behaviour adults engage in, and the kind her father displays.

After separating from Ah Girl’s mother (Carrie Wong), her father appears to be seeing several different women. According to Ah Girl, he doesn’t like small women because they remind him of her mother, but to Ah Girl and her younger sister Ah Tian (Sydney Wong), these women are simply Auntie Singapore, Auntie China, and Auntie Japan. We never learn their real names because Ah Girl herself doesn’t know them. The closest connection she forms is with Auntie Japan, who seems to genuinely care for her and offers Ah Girl the nearest resemblance of a stable, nurturing parental figure.

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Throughout the film, Ah Girl longs for a ‘normal’ childhood, and she’s hurt by the ways her parents fail to carry or care for her. She wishes she didn’t have to worry about whether her little sister might be sent to Australia to live with another family who could offer her a better life; she wants to stay with her sister yet also wonders why she herself isn’t entitled to that same chance. Combined with her struggle for individuality, Ah Girl feels trapped, unable to become the person she wants to be. This is captured perfectly in the moment she’s forced to cut her hair, even though she desperately wants to keep it long.

None of this would work as well as it does without Ong Xuan Jing’s incredible performance. Despite this being her first role, she is truly remarkable as a young girl struggling to navigate a world that’s forcing her to grow up far too quickly. She captures every nuance with astonishing precision. The other standout is Wong as Ah Tian, who, even as the younger sister, is nothing short of wonderful and entirely believable. I’m genuinely amazed by how writer‑director Ang Geck Geck Priscilla can draw such exceptional performances from her young cast in her feature debut, something even seasoned filmmakers often struggle to achieve.

Ah Girl may not be a traditional narrative feature, but as it unfolds and we witness Ah Girl’s life through her eyes, every struggle and hardship feels deeply real and organic. The audience watches a young girl forced to mature far too quickly, and the emotional weight of that journey lingers long after the film ends. It’s a powerful film that hasn’t left my mind since I saw it, something only truly great films can achieve.

Had its North American Premiere at the 2026 Toronto International Film Festival / Ong Xuan Jing, James Seah, Carrie Wong, Sydney Wong / Dir: Ang Geck Geck Priscilla

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