Patriarchy, Trauma & Ghosts: Woman’s Story of School, Belief & Fear

The seeds of Tan Siyou’s award-winning film, Amoeba, were sown not in the polished world of film school, but in the often-uncomfortable realities of a Singaporean girls’ school – a place she describes as actively promoting patriarchal values. The film, which has garnered international acclaim despite its deeply personal and culturally specific roots, draws heavily from Tan’s own adolescence, exploring themes of societal conditioning and the struggle for self-expression.

Tan, now in her 30s, recalls a pervasive expectation that young women should aspire to become “virtuous wives or mothers.” “You are taught to be very small and submissive… don’t talk, just smile, always defer to someone else and don’t take up space,” she explained. This conditioning, she says, fostered a sense of anger that ultimately fueled her creative process. Amoeba isn’t simply a nostalgic look back; it’s a reckoning with the subtle but powerful forces that shaped a generation of young women.

The film’s origins, however, aren’t solely rooted in social observation. Tan’s formative years were also marked by a deeply unsettling and unexplained paranormal experience. While chatting online at 3 a.m., with the radio playing, she experienced a series of bizarre events in her bedroom. The radio’s volume fluctuated wildly, the room grew inexplicably cold, and she felt a distinct presence – culminating in the terrifying sensation of someone sitting on her.

“I turned off the lights, jumped into bed and covered myself with a blanket. I felt someone sitting on me. To be honest, I thought I was going to die. It was super terrifying,” Tan recounted. This encounter, dismissed by her mother as a product of an overactive imagination, became another layer of complexity within the film. The experience left her feeling psychologically vulnerable, particularly because her mother’s disbelief invalidated her fear and trauma.

The reaction to her story was mixed. While her mother dismissed it, Tan found solace in the belief of her friends, who offered a variety of remedies – from Catholic prayer cards to Buddhist chants – in an attempt to protect her. This support network, she says, was crucial in helping her process the experience and feel less alone. The inclusion of the ghost story in Amoeba isn’t simply a narrative device; it’s a representation of the unseen forces – both internal and external – that can shape and haunt our lives.

Tan’s early foray into filmmaking was sparked by a seemingly minor school incident. When a group of her friends were punished for sneaking food into the air-conditioned library, they were tasked with writing a skit for morning assembly as a deterrent. Tan, remembering her own past transgression of skipping class to sleep in the library, felt a sense of injustice at what she perceived as public shaming for an “innocent act.”

“I know you are not supposed to eat in the library. But it was very hot and Here’s such an innocent act. Why would (teachers) publicly shame you?” she reasoned. Rather than simply fulfilling the assignment, Tan and her friends transformed the skit into an elaborate production, demonstrating a nascent talent for storytelling and a willingness to challenge authority. This early experience foreshadowed her later work, which consistently questions societal norms and explores the complexities of adolescence.

The success of Amoeba is particularly noteworthy given Tan’s initial uncertainty about its broader appeal. Rooted in the specific cultural landscape of Singapore – incorporating Mandarin, English, and Singlish, and referencing local touchstones like O-Levels and the Merlion – she wasn’t sure if the film would resonate with audiences beyond its home country. However, the film’s universal themes of identity, conformity, and the search for self-expression have proven to be remarkably relatable, earning it screenings at film festivals worldwide and a string of awards.

Tan’s journey from a frustrated student writing subversive skits to an internationally recognized filmmaker highlights the power of personal storytelling. Amoeba isn’t just a film; it’s a testament to the importance of acknowledging and confronting the experiences that shape us, even – and perhaps especially – the ones that are dismissed or invalidated. The film’s success suggests a growing appetite for authentic narratives that challenge conventional wisdom and offer a nuanced perspective on the complexities of growing up.

The film’s exploration of patriarchal conditioning also arrives at a moment of heightened awareness surrounding gender inequality and the pressures faced by young women. Tan’s willingness to confront these issues head-on, coupled with her unique storytelling voice, positions her as a significant emerging talent in the global film landscape. The fact that a film so deeply rooted in a specific cultural context has found such widespread resonance speaks to the universality of the human experience and the enduring power of cinema to connect us across borders.