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
Ayden Sng appears in the oblong box. It is a Friday evening and he has carved out a rare pocket of free time to do this interview.
Through the middling-resolution of the screen, he appears fresh-faced, beaming; even as he is in the throes of filming the Channel 8 series All That Glitters (née Road to Riches).
The Mandarin drama series begins with a murder before it flashes back to the past, where we follow the journey of three friends and the events that led to the tragedy. Starring Desmond Tan, Jeremy Chan and Sng, it was shot in Alor Setar, Malaysia; Hat Yai, Thailand; and Singapore.
Sng plays one of the three friends, but his character offers the bonus of being the series' antagonist; a role that he states that he “had been waiting for a long time.”
“Well, not necessarily waiting to play the ‘villain’,” Sng specifies, “but the thing about bad guys is that they usually aren’t one-dimensional. That’s the sort of role with depth that I have been wanting to play.”
The key is not to think of them as villains. Sng cites the Joker (played by Joaquin Phoenix) as someone you would empathise with and root for. “In some sense, I felt a lot of the self-rationalising, self-justification that the character goes through.” Sng wants to bring an authenticity to his character. There’s a backstory to his role, where his ambition is primarily driven by self-preservation; when all is said and done, Sng hopes to deliver something relatable to the audience, regardless of his character’s alignments.
And if the audience were to perceive him differently when they see him on screen, Sng takes it as a win. “If you act sufficiently well that people think that’s you in real life, it’s a testament to your performance.”
There’s another reason for Sng’s willingness to take on this role, and it parallels the same motivation of his character: self-preservation. And by that, Sng is looking to prolong his career as an actor by not being typecast.
In any industry, a role is ascribed to you because you have traits that fit into the stereotype. Cast your eye at the median boy band and you’ll notice the typecasts: the wild one; the bad boy; the leader. These are formulaic functionary, easy pop-culture digestible, accessible and charming.
“It’s the same for actors,” Sng says. “When you begin, right off the bat, they’ll try to figure out what your general vibe is. Then they will label you regardless of whether it is your identity or not. Even for the show I’m doing now, the executive producers met with a lot of resistance when they announced their intention to cast me because the character is someone uneducated, uncouth; who sells satay at the hawker centre.”
Ayden is too educated, he’s too polished for this role. Ayden Sng can play someone who works in a nine-to-five white-collar job. Ayden Sng can play one of the bros or the boy next door. The good son; the good son-in-law. That’s the box he is put in. Except it’s a comfortable casket. It limits his potential to see how far he can stretch his acting wings. For All That Glitters, his role is a complete departure from the ones he’d done before. This is a part that requires him to be—in his own words—“beng”.
“To be in that persona took a lot out of me than with previous roles,” Sng explains. “And because this is a melodrama, there are tons of emotional and violent scenes so the difficulty index for this is probably 10 out of 10.
But despite the stress, it is a much-needed invigoration. It’s this venture into uncharted territory that he rediscovers his love for acting.
If only more people were to see him that way.
“My interest and commitment to this craft is sometimes eclipsed by the fact that I work with a lot of brands.” By that merit, he can be viewed as a male huāpíng (Mandarin for “vase” but it’s also slang for a “pretty but useless person”). It’s a frustrating perception but Sng understands it is not an easy thing to dispel. “It’s not something that I can demand. It’ll take time and a body of good work to justify that.
That’s usually the first impression people will have of Sng when they encounter his Instagram account. It’s understandable. His feed is filled with images of him posing with brands; film and TV announcements; some behind-the-scene stills. But Sng is proud of his interest in fashion and grooming; it opens him to a lot of brand collaborations. “This allows me to continue acting. Good roles after good roles that will hopefully lead to good performances and eventually people will see me as a good actor.”
Sng wants more opportunities to branch outside of Singapore. He wants to add a regional or even a global stage to his oeuvre. He had a chance to do so with a film called Seven Days, which is about a ghost possessing her grown-up younger brother’s body for seven days to resolve any regrets before moving on.
His first feature opened doors to other film projects that Sng is in discussion with. “As an actor, that’s something you look forward to,” Sng says. “Not because you want that regional recognition but with that level of production, you’re exposed to a whole set of different experiences.”
Last year, Sng filmed Hungry Soul in Batam. Co-produced by CJ Entertainment (the company behind Parasite), Sng saw how the production operates, which was vastly different from his experiences in Mediacorp. “It’s not necessary about who is better. It’s about being exposed to how things are done in different countries. I feel that a Taiwanese production focuses a lot more on improvisation. Whereas in Singapore, things are less fluid but that also means you do get a lot more quality control.
Citing an example of his experience shooting in Taiwan, Sng claims that each take is different but in some of those takes, Sng saw something brilliant that’s birthed from improvisation. It’s different and that’s the sort of variety that you’d want to have as an actor.
For the immediate future, Sng wants to work on more films (“Because film acting is different from TV,”) and also to take part in co-productions overseas.
It’s a promising prospect, one that Sng is optimistic about. It would be a platform where he can manifest himself into the kind of actor that he wants to be.
This sort of mentality shapes his identity: he eschews the blown chances, the what-could-have-beens and instead is hyperfocused on looking forward. The industry that he’s in sometimes feels like a game that he has to play, always having to prove himself according to their terms. Not many actors get to chisel out their own niche (look at Yeo Yann Yann and Anjana Vasan).
But Sng is pragmatic. This is a long game, one that you need to play well at. You can either hate the game or continue to build yourself and be certain of your identity.
“Being in this industry forces you to mature quickly. Because if you don’t, you might lose yourself.”
As he grows into himself,Sng finds that he doesn’t need to explain himself to people the way he did before. When the pandemic happened and lock-down was in effect, it didn’t impact Sng all that much, other than not being able to work for several months. His lifestyle remained the same—Sng was pretty happy about staying indoors.
“I don’t like spending time outside of my home much, but it’s not that I’m antisocial,” Sng explains. “I still talk to people online, via Zoom or whatever. You don’t have to go to a social setting to have meaningful conversations. I got to experience those types of things at home, and with my pets, and I felt content.”
People who hear this tell him that he sounds old.
“I don’t think of it as any form of judgment, to be honest. I’m ok being known for that. In the last interview that I did, I used this term called ‘the joy of missing out’. That’s one way that I live my life. If you don’t ask me out, great. I’m happy to focus on the things that I truly want in my life.”
This, according to Sng, is like creating his own joy machine. To seek out happiness in your loved ones or pets; even in the hobbies you engage in. Sng collects colognes and perfumes so whenever he has visitors, he’ll introduce them to his home-based fragrance bar. “I’ll ask them to try something that they have never had before. Are you into daytime scents, fresh scents? Are you into floral and citrusy stuff? Why not opt for amber or oud?"
Another source of joy comes from his cats. Growing up, his family had a German Shepherd. “But that wasn’t the most pleasant experience for me,” Sng says. “The reason I’m drawn to cats is, perhaps, my personality is a bit like theirs. I’m a huge homebody. I love to stay indoors. The thought of walking a dog outside doesn’t sit well with an introvert and a germaphobe. “Cats are really clean. They groom themselves all the time.
He’d wanted to own a cat since he was studying at Duke University (“But I didn’t want to deal with the process of bringing it back to Singapore.”) One of his best friends from university, who was also his neighbour had a cat that he would volunteer to look after. When he returned to Singapore, he planned to get a cat once he got his own place.
With that checked off, he now has three Bengals, and quite possibly more in the months to come. A pair of Maine Coons are expected to arrive at his doorstep this year.
“I don’t mind being branded that crazy cat uncle. Having cats give me a sense of fulfilment and it doesn’t matter what others think; at the end of the day, I’m obligated to myself and nobody else.”
Photography: Joel Low
Fashion Direction: Asri Jasman
Art Direction: Joan Tai
Styling: Wilson Lim
Make-Up: Peter Khor using ESTÉE LAUDER
Hair: Christvian Goh using REVLON PROFESSIONAL
Photography Assistant: Eddie Teo
Location: Bulgari Resort Bali
