If you ever thought Singaporeans had finally escaped the curse of being misrepresented on international screens, think again. The latest culprit? An American crime drama called Countdown, now streaming on Prime Video, which managed to make Singaporeans collectively spit out their teh peng in disbelief.
In the 11th episode, LAPD investigators played by Jensen Ackles (yes, Supernatural fans, him again) and Jessica Camacho grill a Singaporean businessman named Kieran Teo, who’s played by American actor Brian Yang. Sounds intriguing—except Hollywood has apparently decided this “Singaporean” can’t speak a word of English. Instead, he rattles off only in (passable) Malay and needs an interpreter, played by Singaporean actress Valerie Loo.
Cue one very confused nation of viewers.

Singaporean, But Make It Confusing
Now, let’s be clear: Malay is the national language of Singapore. It’s printed on our coat of arms, we sing it during the National Anthem, and you can find road names like Jalan Besar and Bukit Timah that remind us of our linguistic roots. But does the average Singaporean businessman really conduct shady property dealings in Malay and require an interpreter when speaking to foreigners? That’s about as likely as someone bringing durian on the MRT without getting side-eyed into oblivion.
The moment aired, Singaporeans collectively knew what must have happened in the writer’s room: somebody typed “What is the national language of Singapore?” into Google, saw “Malay” pop up, and promptly based an entire script decision on that single search result. Research: done.
Enter Beruang Holdings
As if the language issue weren’t enough, the plot thickens. Teo’s fictional company is called “Beruang Holdings.” Yes, “beruang” translates to “bear” in Malay, which instantly makes us wonder: was “Merlion Pte Ltd” taken?
But here’s the kicker—the show claims Beruang Holdings is owned by Singapore’s ruling political party, the People’s Action Party (PAP). This leads to a government representative storming in to halt the investigation. Because nothing screams primetime drama like dragging a Southeast Asian ruling party into a murder subplot.
Some Singaporeans were more amused than offended. On Reddit, one user quipped, “Maybe he is a Singapore citizen but born in Malaysia?” while another deadpanned, “At last, a Singaporean speaks their national language.” Yet the bigger concern was how the show made Singapore look like some dodgy regime using political power to cover up crimes. Not exactly the sparkling-clean, fine-for-everything image we normally market to tourists.
Déjà Vu, Anyone?
If this feels familiar, it’s because Singapore has been here before. International portrayals of the Lion City are often a bizarre cocktail of lazy research, stereotyping, and outright fantasy.
Take Crazy Rich Asians (2018). The film was lauded internationally for showcasing Asian wealth and glamour, but at home, Singaporeans scratched their heads. Where were the Malay and Indian characters? Where were the kopitiams, the HDB flats, the sweaty queue for bak chor mee at 1 a.m.? The Singapore depicted was shiny, opulent, and about as diverse as a members-only yacht club. This probably had something to do with another (mis)representation of Singapore in Archer (S12 Ep7), with billionaire heiress Cheryl freaking out about how she’s poor in Singapore.
Or consider Blizzard’s Overwatch (2016), which introduced a Singaporean robot hero who spoke Singlish so awkwardly it sounded like someone had copied phrases off a travel blog and run them through three rounds of Google Translate. The result was “authentic” in the same way instant noodles are authentic ramen.
Why Do They Keep Getting It Wrong?
Part of the issue is the gap between Singapore’s global reputation and its actual cultural complexity. To outsiders, Singapore is often reduced to being either (a) incredibly rich, (b) a strict nanny state, or (c) vaguely “Asian” in a way that blurs into Malaysia, Indonesia, or Hong Kong. Add in the convenience of Google snippets, and voilà: a Singaporean Chinese character who speaks only Malay and owns a shady company tied to politics.
The irony? Singaporeans are among the most English-proficient people in Asia. In fact, English is our lingua franca—we study in it, we work in it, we complain about our bosses in it. If anything, the LAPD characters should have been confused by phrases like “Can lah, no problem one,” not by the need for an interpreter.
Should We Care?
So, should Singaporeans be upset about Countdown’s portrayal? On one hand, yes—it’s frustrating to see Hollywood misrepresent a modern, cosmopolitan city-state with a “dodgy back alley” vibe straight out of a Cold War spy flick. On the other hand, this isn’t new. As one Reddit user sighed, “Hollywood misrepresenting a (insert anything here) is a tale as old as time.”
And perhaps, instead of outrage, the healthier response is humour. After all, Singaporeans are experts at laughing at ourselves. We turned ERP gantries into memes, HDB void decks into TikTok backdrops, and even long queues into badges of honour. Why not add “Hollywood thinks we need interpreters” to the list?
The Final Verdict
At the end of the day, Countdown’s faux pas probably says more about Hollywood than it does about Singapore. Still, if Hollywood wants to try again, Singaporeans would be more than happy to help. Just don’t forget to include the MRT, a hawker centre, someone saying “alamak,” and long queues outside a Mac store for the latest model of iPhone.
Until then, the next time “Singaporeans” appear on an American show, we’ll be watching closely—armed with popcorn, sarcasm, and the knowledge that if things go wrong, we can always roast them online. Because really, if there’s one universal truth about Singaporeans, it’s this: misrepresent us all you want, but at least get our English right. Lah.