When Esquire Singapore caught up with Ayden Sng last year, he was in the throes of filming the Channel 8 series All That Glitters. Much of the conversation lingered around the idea of typecasting—a familiar, if frustrating aspect of Singapore’s acting scene. It’s easy to empathise with Sng’s desire to break free from these shackles and truly test the limits of his craft. How many times can one play the good son, the polished, educated love interest—the character that always feels safe? But Sng isn’t one to shy away from reinvention. He’s an actor hungry for growth, even if it means throwing himself into the unknown and rebuilding from scratch.
When Ayden Sng first stepped into the industry at 25, Mediacorp was the unknown, an uncharted territory for a young actor eager to make his mark. Five years and countless Channel 8 dramas later, Mediacorp has become a familiar space, almost too familiar. The shows blend into each other, the roles begin to blur, and the people—well, everyone knows everyone. “TV filming in Singapore is like a big family,” Sng tells me, playfully cross-legged on a couch in a narrow studio. I’ve never been to the set, but I nod because I can imagine it. Sng, with his easy charisma, fills the room with a lightness that’s both infectious and disarming. He speaks with what I can only describe as a fragile meticulousness, but with the crew during the photoshoot, a more relaxed side of him surfaces, emboldened by the cadence of Singlish and the occasional slip into Mandarin. It’s been a long day—leather jackets layered against multi-layered turtlenecks, striking pose after pose under blinding lights—but you wouldn’t know it from the way he carries himself. There’s no posture here; this is the Sng his collaborators have come to know. It’s obvious he feels at ease here, but for an actor dedicated to their craft, comfort can be a cage, and growth, after all, often blooms in discomfort.
In late 2023, Mediacorp’s The Celebrity Agency embarked on a collaboration with China’s Huanyu Entertainment to select three local actors to be represented by the prestigious agency. Sng was selected as one of them, which meant that the actor would have to be based in China for the foreseeable future and direct his focus on the sprawling Chinese market. An opportunity like this is the stuff of dreams for many Singaporean actors because it could spell the eruption of their career into global heights, beyond the shores of our small nation. Yet, with any leap into the unknown, it carries its fair share of risks. For Sng, it is akin to pressing the reset button on his career. If navigating the local scene in Mediacorp was his first unknown as an actor, then the colossal landscape of China is his next great unknown.
Regardless, this is a fresh start, and in a market brimming with unlimited possibilities, Sng can finally break free from any typecasting and fully explore his range as an actor… right?
“In China, I’m essentially starting from scratch, so ironically, I’m looking to be typecast again,” he reveals, catching me completely off guard. Quite honestly, I had mapped out the entire interview in my head during my research—half-ready to set pen to paper and frame the cover story as “The Reinvention of Ayden Sng”. It would have been a grand angle that showcased how Sng has a second shot at avoiding the pitfall that is being typecasted. After all, wasn’t breaking out of typecasting part of his struggle back home?
He elaborates, “Stage one for any actor in a new market is to be typecasted because people need to think of you for a specific type of role, that’s the easiest way to get cast.” He continues, “After you’ve been in the market for a few years, that’s when you need to break out of that mould and showcase your versatility.” When we spoke to Sng last year, he was at the tipping point, on the verge of shedding that mould in the local market. “Stage three for me would then be to defy all of this.”
However, navigating a market as vast and varied as China’s means that “typecast” isn’t as simple as it sounds. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out,” he admits. “China has a lot more genres than we have in Singapore—historical dramas, fantasy fighting, WWII period dramas. It’s a discovery phase.”
Despite this ambiguity, he’s finding his footing. In one of his recent projects, the wuxia drama 临江仙 (Lin Jiang Xian), he plays an immortal—a role that tested his physical limits as an actor. “It was my first time doing wire work, in over 40°C weather,” he recalls, smiling. “I was flying around with a sword for over 12 hours a day. It was exhausting, but memorable because it was a series of firsts for me.”
But there are challenges acting in China that go beyond the physical. The uncertainty of navigating a foreign territory, on top of the pressure of having to perform at the top of your craft can be intensely palpable. “You get one shot, and you have to make it count,” Sng confesses. This urgency means that now the hunger for growth he’s held for years—the one that has felt so distant—is within his grasp, he’s finally seizing it. From vocal training to movement classes and picking up the intricacies of wire work, Sng has been placed in an environment that demands rapid growth, a stark contrast to what he had been used to. “Growth used to be something that was always on my mind and was something I was trying to do”, Sng admits. “But now, it feels like I have to do it, and quickly.”
Despite the highs of being in a new market, being uprooted from everything familiar—culture, routine and rhythm—has been taxing. “Even though my Mandarin is fairly proficient, I don’t have the cultural context to respond in a way that is required of me,” Sng reveals, likening himself to a deer in headlights during social interactions. He also describes himself as a sponge, absorbing more than contributing, which he concedes makes him a dull conversationalist. “There are times when I wish I could reply to them in English, then I would know what to say, but I can’t.”
“And this is coming from someone like me who thoroughly enjoys Mandarin and Chinese.” Ironically, this challenge is part of why he loves being in China: the total immersion in Chinese culture. This affinity with Chinese culture can be traced to Sng’s childhood. “Growing up, I definitely consumed more Chinese content [than Western content],” says Sng, enraptured for the first time in our conversation. “Which is why working in China feels like a dream come true for me.” Before the internet made television shows and movies from other countries like China widely accessible, Channel 8 was the cornerstone of Sng’s childhood entertainment. “Chen Li Ping was my favourite actor,” he beams. “I watched her when she was [My Teacher] Aiyoyo.”
Creating and starring in Chinese media clearly ignites something deeper within Sng, which explains why his tone remains upbeat and hopeful, even while opening up about his challenges in China. The 30-year-old isn’t closing the door on Western projects just yet though. “The goal would be to be involved in more international projects,” he says. And in true Sng fashion, the reason is quite simple: growth.
Whether it’s Hollywood, the UK or regional countries—it matters not which foreign market he steps into. He’s more concerned about discovering the inner workings of the industry across different settings and refining his own craft. His journey in China is a prime example. “You go there completely clueless,” he confides. “You do two shows, and then you have a stronger understanding of what you can and cannot do. You realise what you’re weak at and the skills you need to improve on.” This learning process endows Sng with a roadmap, a clearer path towards bettering his craft and guiding him to becoming the actor he wants to be.
For many, success in this industry can be measured by the number of followers you have on Instagram, the accolades, the fame. But for Sng, the idea of “making it” isn’t as straightforward. “Someone earning SGD3,000 might want more, and when they get SGD6,000, it still won’t feel like enough,” he continues. “There’s always going to be something you want or feel like you need to improve on. So, it’s really about enjoying the journey.” Instead of asking himself “Have I made it?” his instincts are to ask himself, “Are you happy with where you are, and what you’re doing?
It is a grounded view of success, one that emphasises that cliché of journey over the destination.
Yet, in a career that has been marked by transitions—from Singapore to China, from typecasting to growth—Sng’s definition of “making it” is more about internal satisfaction than external achievements. He is more concerned with his own evolution than ticking off boxes of conventional success. “To create that kind of joy machine for yourself. That’s something that people need to find.”
The television format is fast-paced and unrelenting; actors are typically not afforded the luxury of time when preparing and filming for a role, especially in Singapore where productivity is a priority. While a drama with 30 episodes (roughly 1,200 minutes) may take three to four months to film, a 110-minute movie often takes just two to three months. For an actor, the unhurried, deliberate nature of cinema creates an ideal environment that allows them to fine-tune every performance and mull over every nuance. “Taking more time to create something good, that’s something that every actor would like to do,” Sng says, earnestly.
The extended preparation time that films offer actors—the slow burn of cinema—may explain why the medium has yielded some of the greatest acting performances in history. Think Al Pacino in Dog Day Afternoon, Mahershala Ali in Moonlight, Tony Leung in In the Mood for Love. From Sng’s perspective, it wasn’t a particular film that has triggered his desire to explore cinema. Rather, it was the performances themselves that struck an emotional chord with him. “It’s just something that would make you want to be in a position where you can do something like that.”
His criterion for a good film is refreshingly honest, “as long as it’s entertaining”. Whether it’s laughter, tears, or fear, if the film elicits the intended response, he would consider it a success. And if it can keep his attention for more than 10 minutes… cue the score and hand over the Oscar. Who’s to tell Sng a film is bad if he enjoyed it? Film, like all art forms, has always been subjective. A distraught office worker suffering from corporate burnout will have a completely different experience watching The Perks of Being a Wallflower than an awkward teenager battling with social anxiety and identity. That same office worker could watch My Dinner with Andre and form their own interpretation of the film, coloured by their own life experiences. “Filmmakers, in some sense, have a huge role to be able to shape how their audience thinks based on their own worldview.” Sng opines. “But how the audience reacts to it is a reflection of overall social sentiment at that point in time.”
If you couldn’t already tell, Sng thinks—deeply. A scroll to the bottom of his Instagram page reveals pictures with long introspective captions attached to them—mini dissertations on maturity, identity and freedom. These days, those personal journal entries are long gone, replaced with simpler captions and sometimes, even just a single word. What changed?
“Somebody in the industry told me that nobody’s reading any of my posts,” he reveals. “They suggested one-word captions instead.” It’s practical advice considering the fleeting attention span in the landscape of social media today. However, there’s more to this than a strategic social media move.
“I think I used to have more things to say,” he reveals, pointing to the insular nature of filming in Singapore. “When you are stuck in an environment for very long, you’re not really absorbing enough knowledge to form a perspective about a lot of things,” says Sng, adding further depth to his move to China.
Comfort, close relationships and familiarity—these are some of the things Sng has had to leave behind in dedication to the craft. But there is something else: his cats.
“I feel like my cats would call me irresponsible because I’m hardly ever home.” His life is divided between two countries. He has cats in China, cared for by his assistant and also in Singapore, looked after by his family. It’s far from ideal for someone who doesn’t mind being branded as that “crazy cat uncle”. In a perfect world, Sng would have Doraemon’s magical door, bringing his cats along with him wherever he went.
He admits that the constant travel and time away from home come with emotional challenges. “I wish I could spend more time with them,” referring not just to his cats but to the other important people in his life. But instead of letting the guilt consume him, he approaches himself with kindness, “I don’t let the guilt eat me up. I know that I’m trying my best and that’s what matters.”
Photography, Digital Imaging and Retouching: Jayden Tan
Styling: Asri Jasman
Art Direction: Joan Tai
Hair: Christvian Wu using KEVIN.MURPHY
Makeup: Ying Cui Pris at AASTRAL BEAUTY using LANCÔME
Styling Assistant: Kyla Chow
