The freshest perspective is often the one we forgot many years ago. Singaporean feature AH GIRL, playing at TIFF 2026, lowers the eyeline a few feet: reminding us of the world we once lived in, where adults are big, confusing, and a bunch of liars.
Director Ang Geck Geck Priscilla derived much of the story and themes from her own childhood, but you needn’t be told that to guess it. Anyone who sits down for the 99 minutes will know without a doubt, that this is a very real story. To a degree perhaps not reached before in film, Ang replicates the feeling of childhood with such perfection that we seem transported back to those living room floors we all once played on.
Ah Girl, played by the young Ong Xuan Jing, is a clever and passionate seven year old, struck unfairly by the effects of her parents’ separation. Neither her mum (Carrie Wong) nor her dad (James Seah) are particularly good at co-parenting, and Ah Girl is often left in the centre of the adults’ conflict. Her younger sister Ah Tian (Sydney Wong) is just as helpless, but with less clue on everything than Ah Girl. Powerless as our protagonist may be, she sees the adult world in its actuality.
Which is why when we witness Ah Girl finally seize control in moments, we know that she will absolutely be okay.
It is truly remarkable on the young actresses’ parts how this film came to be. Acting is not easy for young children, hence we typically only see small roles portrayed by under 14s in cinema these days. We wouldn’t be surprised if some of the on-screen sisters’ interactions (and any scenes, really) were improvised due to how authentic they seem, from the realistic sibling bickering to proclamations of love of cheese sticks. Yet it is still to the credit of Ong Xuan Jing and Sydney Wong for their wonderful portrayals throughout the entire film. In fact, we’d say they deserve all the cheese sticks in the world.
It’s not just the cinematography that brings us back down into Ah Girl’s world. Colours are vibrant: dreamy like the hopeful magic that still lives in children’s minds. Another nostalgic edge is emulated in the 4:3 ratio of the film, as if we’re watching a home video from the ’90s. This is not a careless decision for purely aesthetic purposes; AH GIRL is set in the ’90s after all.
Of all our childhoods, and especially of those who had to grow up a bit too fast, AH GIRL is a reminder. A reminder of the simplicity we once saw the world through, and how in some ways, it is a more mature take on the complex and often meaningless happenings of adult life. Perhaps AH GIRL is telling us that in order to grow up, we should all become children again.
AH GIRL is playing at TIFF 2026.