ABAH Saya, Uncle Mike is the kind of film that sneaks up on you. It is quiet. It is humble. Then it punches you straight in the emotions with its realness. Inspired by the true story of Michael Tong Wai Siong, better known as Uncle Mike, the drama follows a Chinese man who raised three Malay orphan boys as his own. He did not do it for fame, glory, or money. He did it because it was the right thing to do. Nowadays, that kind of goodness feels rare, so this story cuts deep.
Released near Merdeka, the film feels especially timely. It speaks of unity not through flags and parades, but through the everyday struggle of people trying to love and protect each other across cultural lines. This is Malaysia at its most raw: multi-lingual, multi-cultural and very human.
Three kids, one mission
The true strength of the film lies in its young cast. Idan Aedan plays Rafei, the eldest of the three brothers, with the kind of tired, world-weary stare that says, “I’ve been through enough for three lifetimes.” His pain is quiet but palpable, especially in scenes where he tries to remain strong for his siblings despite being broken himself.
Nor Merah delivers a haunting performance as Rasyid, the middle child who often gets ignored, both by characters and camera, but never by the audience. His role is a masterclass in subtlety, made even more impressive by the fact that the crew reportedly gave him minimal attention on set to help him get into character. And then there is Umar Shakur as Rahman, the youngest, who softens every heavy moment with an innocent presence that feels impossible to fake.
Together, they form a sibling trio that is devastatingly believable. Whether they are arguing over food, hiding from danger, or simply sitting in silence, the bond they portray on screen is nothing short of heartbreaking.
Teh swaps action for affection
Known for kicking people in the face on screen, Andy Teh does a complete 180 here and it works. As Uncle Mike, he is calm, steady and beautifully understated. He reportedly spent a month prepping for the role by gaining weight, reducing social activity and living a more grounded lifestyle. The result is a man who feels like someone’s actual uncle: gruff but gentle, tired but kind and utterly out of his depth when it comes to religion, but trying his best anyway.
He does not understand everything, but he listens. He does not have much, but he gives what he can. Watching him try to fill the parental role without stepping on the boys’ beliefs is a lesson in what true respect looks like.
Layered villain
In a surprising twist, the film’s antagonist is not a snarling villain with an evil laugh. It is someone who, at first glance, should be a source of guidance: Ustaz Shaari, played by Sobri Anuar. His performance is layered and chilling, because he represents something far more dangerous: righteous cruelty.
As the boys’ former caretaker, Ustaz Shaari uses religion as both shield and weapon. He is the kind of character who insists he is doing everything “for their own good,” even when his actions clearly cause pain. His presence in the film serves as a reminder that blind authority, even in the name of faith, can be deeply harmful. Sobri brings menace to the role that lingers long after the credits roll.
Space to rest
For every heavy moment, the film also gives space to breathe and sometimes eat. In one standout scene, Mandy Chong’s character makes tong yuen with the boys, sparking curiosity about the dish and leading to a real-life dessert day on set. These small cultural touchpoints, food, prayer, language, are woven in with care, never forced, but always meaningful.
The rotan scene, however, is another story. Reportedly, real and fake rotans were used and in some takes, Idan was actually struck hard enough to leave marks. It is a brutal reminder of how pain can be disguised as discipline. The fact that Idan continued acting without breaking character says a lot about his dedication and the film’s commitment to realism.
Even the quieter scenes, such as the infamous vending machine conversation, were treated with care. It reportedly took nearly three hours to shoot due to interruptions and the emotional weight involved. That kind of commitment shows in every frame.
Just watch it, lah
Abah Saya, Uncle Mike does not beg for attention. It simply tells a story, one rooted in pain, love, culture and choice.
It is not a perfect world. The system fails. Good people make bad choices. But what this film gets right, painfully, beautifully right, is that family is what you make it. It is who shows up. It is who stays. It is who listens.
So if you are Malaysian, do not overthink it. Just watch it. Cry a little. Laugh when it feels right.
Because sometimes, the best stories are the quiet ones that remind you what it means to simply care.
DIRECTOR: Ezrie Gazali
CAST: Andy Teh, Idan Aedan, Nor Merah, Umar Shakur, Pauline Tan, Sobri Anuar
E-VALUE: 7/10
PLOT: 6/10
ACTING: 7/10
