Not just another brick in the wall

Imagine The Blair Witch Project meeting Mean Girls and then being subjected to a dose of Derrida's deconstruction. The result? Amoeba, a film about high-school girl Choo Xin Yu, who refuses to conform. It is about rejecting norms, refusing to capitulate to convention and pushing boundaries.

This is the directorial debut of Singaporean filmmaker Tan Siyou. She perhaps couldn't have chosen a better title for the film than Amoeba. Like the unicellular organism, Choo Xin Yu morphs but never merges with the rest of the crowd. In fact, she and her close-knit group of friends all share this individuality. They gravitate towards one another, yet remain islands within their own personal spheres.

The setting is an elite school where rules, strictness and discipline go beyond reasonable limits. It presents a clinical, almost sterile society where human emotions and individuality are rejected in favour of military-like precision and order. The teachers can be cruel and unjust, expecting to coerce the students into docile submission.

But Choo Xin Yu will have none of that. She initially appears sullen and borders on insolence but as the film unfolds, we discover a vibrant, intelligent girl with a sharp sense of humour. She soon befriends a similarly non-conformist group of girls - Vanessa Scarlett Ooi, Gina Wong and Sofia Tay.

The opening scene is a blurry black-and-white grainy sequence, jerky and almost paranormal in tone. That's where The Blair Witch Project immediately comes to mind, with its deliberately amateur camcorder aesthetic. Choo lies on her bed, her eyes almost luminous in the camera's light as she mumbles about an unseen presence in her room.

The scene abruptly ends and the 'actual' movie begins. Choo has joined this authoritarian school and is immediately admonished for the length of her hair, the length of her skirt, even the colour of her bra. She does not answer back aggressively but neither does she bother to conceal her passive hostility.

There is, however, a sense of comfort when three girls in her class - Vanessa, Gina and Sofia - are drawn to her, and it isn't long before they become an inseparable group. If one expects a clique of mean girls to torment Choo or assumes that her group of misfits will themselves become the mean girls, the film offers a pleasant surprise. The bullying culture does not come from the students but from the teachers. Choo, however, has a wily way of pushing boundaries and leading her friends to subtly challenge authority.

When they stage a school play of their own creation, it becomes a biting critique of the capitalist society around them, depicting how flora and fauna have been replaced by concrete and steel in the making of a prosperous, iconic nation held up as a model to the world.

If there is incongruity throughout the film, it seems to be a deliberate incongruity meant to break away from convention. There is also an element of magical realism. Choo senses a supernatural presence in her room, one that shakes her mosquito net, ruffles her sheets and moves around unseen. Later, while exploring a construction site built over an old graveyard, the girls venture deep underground and discover old statues, malevolent and menacing in appearance. Yet nothing seems to faze them.

The girls even form a gang modelled on local mafia groups, though they never dabble in crime. It is simply a teenage fantasy of bravado, swag and defiance. The school authorities, however, are furious. They discover Choo's camcorder and condemn the video filmed in her room, which begins as a search for a ghost and ends with a little playful horseplay in bed. Fortunately, there are sympathetic individuals on the disciplinary board who see it for what it is: harmless teenage fun.

The film then moves into the rigmarole of university admissions, exposing elitism and the influence of wealth. One of the girls, the wealthiest among them, obtains the admission examination papers, allowing the group to prepare accordingly. An exposure of class privilege.  

Here the Merlion, Singapore's national icon, a creature with the head of a lion and the body of a fish, assumes symbolic importance. During the admission interview, the girls are shown a sketch of Singapore and asked what they see: development, landscape, the Merlion, success or whatever interpretation they choose.

Choo sees the drawing exactly as it is, without symbolism or hidden meanings. Yet when her attention turns to the Merlion, she finds herself identifying with it. Others question how a lion, an animal that come from Africa and does not even inhabit Singapore, could become its national symbol. Choo, however, empathises with the lonely statue that stands day and night gazing out into the world. People come, stare at it, take photographs and leave. The cycle repeats endlessly. Like a fish trapped inside an aquarium, the Merlion can go nowhere. It remains imprisoned within itself, forever looking outward and wondering what lies beyond.

Choo recognises something of herself in the creature, staring into an uncertain future, burdened with questions that have no answers.

While Singapore is widely admired for its progress, discipline and order, Amoeba offers a sharp critique of those very qualities, suggesting that they can suffocate youth, creativity and individuality. The education system appears to be churning out robot-like citizens but Choo refuses to become just another brick in the wall.

It is interesting that this film has been acclaimed and enjoyed around the world and in Singapore itself. Less tolerant authorities in less tolerant countries might not have welcomed such a brashly critical film. As The Straits Times observed, "Films about the discomforts of life in Singapore could be a genre in itself, the word 'Singatrauma' is as good a name for the category as any."

Finally, a special thanks to the High Commission of Singapore in Dhaka for organising Singapore Movie Night 2026 and screening this remarkable film. It was a wonderful introduction to the world of Singaporean cinema.