Ah Girl: A Director's Journey from Crayon to Cinema

When Childhood Becomes Cinema

I've always been fascinated by how some of our most profound stories begin in the simplest places. Take Ang Geck Geck Priscilla's 'Ah Girl,' for instance—a film that emerged from a child's crayon, literally and metaphorically. The journey from her 2013 short 'Broken Crayon' to her feature debut at the Toronto Film Festival is one of those rare tales where patience pays off in spectacular fashion.

"We can't fly without first learning how to walk," Ang told me during our interview. "The short films were me learning how to walk. 'Ah Girl' is the film I was preparing myself to make all along."

This sentiment speaks volumes about the dedication required in filmmaking, especially when you're crafting something as emotionally complex as a child's perspective. But let's not get ahead of ourselves—let's start at the beginning.

The Crayon Chronicles

Ang's first foray into storytelling began with 'Broken Crayon,' a short film that, despite its brevity, won best short film at the Singapore Short Film Festival in 2013. It was here that she first introduced us to the character we'd come to know as Ah Girl—a young girl whose story would eventually evolve into a feature-length exploration of family, choice, and emotional complexity.

Following 'Broken Crayon,' Ang continued her trilogy with 'Little Pigs' and 'Happy Birthday.' These films didn't just serve as experiments in storytelling—they were foundational pieces in building her directorial voice. Each short allowed her to explore themes of childhood innocence and adult complications, testing boundaries that would later become the backbone of her feature.

Building a Feature

What's remarkable about Ang's approach is how she used these shorts not just as warm-ups but as learning experiences. "A feature is a much bigger commitment, creatively, financially and emotionally," she explained. "I wanted to make sure I was ready for that responsibility."

This caution isn't born out of fear—it's the result of deep respect for the craft. Ang spent over a decade honing her skills, developing her vision, and understanding what it means to tell a story from a child's point of view. The result is a film that doesn't just present childhood; it captures the raw, honest complexity of how children perceive the world.

Childhood Through Adult Eyes

Ang's decision to write from a child's perspective was intentional and deeply considered. "She is absorbing everything," she says of her protagonist. "I want the adults watching the film to try to understand the child."

This isn't just about empathy; it's about recognition. We're reminded that children often see more than adults give them credit for, and this film doesn't shy away from that truth. The emotional burden placed on a seven-year-old—having to choose between parents—is one that hits hard, especially when we consider how often such decisions are made by those who should be making them.

"The adults keep asking her what she wants, but very few of them actually stop to ask what she needs," Ang notes. And that's exactly where the film's emotional core lies: not in the drama, but in the disconnect between adult expectations and child realities.

The Setting That Matters

The 1990s setting isn't just nostalgic—it's functional. In an age before smartphones and instant communication, the characters were left to grapple with emotional distance in ways that feel both authentic and haunting. "That distance creates a certain helplessness and desperation," Ang explains.

This wasn't just a creative choice; it was a reflection of how children experience loss, confusion, and the search for belonging. It's a reminder that sometimes, the smallest details can carry the most weight in storytelling.

Casting with Heart

When it came to casting, Ang wasn't looking for the most technically skilled child actor. She was looking for someone who could embody Ah Girl's essence. Ong Xuan Jing, the young actress who brings the character to life, spent months building trust and playing games with Ang before filming even began.

This level of commitment isn't just about performance—it's about authenticity. It shows how deeply Ang values the emotional journey of her characters, not just their surface-level portrayals.

Parents as People

One of the film's most compelling aspects is how it resists turning either parent into a villain. "They are two people who became parents before they were emotionally ready to be parents," Ang says. "Loving your child and knowing how to love your child are not always the same thing."

This nuanced portrayal speaks to the complexity of family dynamics, especially in the context of divorce or separation. It's a reminder that children are often caught between two adults who may be equally flawed but equally desperate to be chosen.

International Recognition

Since its premiere at the International Film Festival Rotterdam, 'Ah Girl' has traveled far and wide, winning awards in Melbourne, Hong Kong, Udine, Innsbruck, Shanghai, Munich, Da Nang, Bucheon, and Malaysia. The film's universal appeal isn't surprising—its emotional honesty transcends cultural barriers.

"There is something very powerful about two strangers not sharing the same language or upbringing, but recognizing the same emotion in each other," Ang shares. And indeed, that shared humanity is what makes this story resonate so deeply across cultures.

What's Next for Ah Girl?

Ang isn't finished with her character just yet. She envisions a trilogy spanning childhood, adolescence, and middle age, ideally with the same cast aging alongside their roles. But before that, she's turning to a psychological horror feature expanded from 'Broken Crayon,' the thesis short that started it all.

"I've loved horror films since I was about six years old, so it's actually quite funny that after all these years, I've never made one," she laughs. "So no, Ah Girl hasn't left me. I'm just letting her grow up a little while I go and scare some people first."

This is where the real magic of storytelling lies—when creators are brave enough to let their characters evolve beyond the screen. It's not just about making films; it's about nurturing stories that live long after they've ended.

The Heart of the Matter

'Ah Girl' is a film that doesn't need a lot of fanfare to be impactful. Its strength lies in its quiet courage—a story that dares to be sensitive, honest, and true to childhood's complexity. For Ang Geck Geck Priscilla, this isn't just about making art; it's about making meaning.

As we continue to navigate a world where children are often treated as adults in miniature, 'Ah Girl' reminds us that sometimes the most important thing is to listen—really listen—to what they're trying to say. And in that, Ang has found her voice, one crayon at a time.