1. 96 97
A Woman We Love
The multi-hyphenate may have
disappeared a few years ago to return to
her adopted homeland Canada, but now,
she’s back in “the motherland” and ready
for the next phase of her career, one that
sees her mentoring the next generation of
talents as the founder of her own agency.
Words by Sim Wie Boon
Photographs by Kim Mun
Styling by Ian Loh
Art Direction by Rebecca Chew
Sarah Lian
pays
it f o r w a r d
2. 98 99
S
he’s referring to her sudden return to Canada after being
in Malaysia for years, at a point in time that has seen her
career hit its peak, with appearances in major commer-
cials, hosting gigs for the Shout! Awards and ESPN, and maga-
zine shoots every other week. “I thought I was going to be
complacent about this, so what did I do? I packed my bags and
moved back to Toronto in 2011 and I just became a nobody
again,” she says.
She took up acting classes and, even though she has 20
commercials under her belt, she says that she just sat there as
if she had never read a script before.
“You learn. You learn to be humble. You learn to enjoy
learning, and you push yourself in certain areas that you
thought you never could,” she observes. “When you’re in Can-
ada and working with other actors, and about all of them are
vying for that one role, you better stand out. It’s not your looks
that are going to stand out, because everybody is freakin’ gor-
geous there.”
But Lian is no stranger to sudden moves. Having lived in
Vancouver since she was eight years old and, aside from a few
summers in Malaysia, she decided to move back to her home
country after graduation.
“Without sounding politically incorrect, I was like a white
girl who was thinking, ‘Oh, I should know more about my
family roots!’ but really, I just wanted to discover my moth-
erland,” she says.
Of course, if she was told that she would be living in Ma-
laysia when she was 16, she would never have believed it. But
when the time came, she thought, why the hell not.
“I had so many friends who were like, ‘Are you sure? You
don’t even know the place that well.’ There were a lot of nay-
sayers and negative comments, but you only have one life to
live, so just go and do it,” she asserts.
“I have a fear of complacency. I don’t want
to end up in the same place where I first
started, so I always challenge and push
myself to try almost everything,” says
32-year-old, Taiping-born Sarah Lian. And
indeed, Lian is a go-getter who’s constantly
on the move from one thing to another, be it
hosting, emceeing, acting or working out.
“I think it’s just what you want to get out
of life and how much you’re willing to
risk, and how much effort or investment
you want to put in it. I could just be happy
emceeing jobs here, but I wouldn’t be
satiated,” she continues.
3. 100 101
Making decisions and mistakes on one’s own time and not
anyone else’s has become a belief system that Lian holds dear
as she drives herself forward with whatever she does.
“I felt like it was my decision, so I didn’t feel like they
[parents] were involved in the whole process. It was just a
case of letting them know,” she recalls, “because when I
moved, it was all on my own. I didn’t really expect to get any
help from them. I do go back to see my parents whenever I
can, but in this day and age, technology is so amazing that you
can be a part of your loved ones’ lives everyday if you really
wanted to.”
The parents were, of course, not very happy about her deci-
sion. But growing up in Canada, it didn’t bother her, as she felt
that she wasn’t doing anything to hurt herself or anyone else.
“This is the life that I wanted to lead. I chose happiness. I
didn’t choose sacrifice,” she asserts. “In Asian culture, I think
a lot of people choose sacrifice and it’s almost like a badge of
honour. That’s the currency that they work in, and I see that.”
Taking a step back and looking at it from a macro level and
all the different types of relationships that occurred in her life,
as well as her friends’ lives became the main theme.
“Oh, I sacrificed so much for you; therefore, I did a lot
for you, so now you have to sacrifice for me,” says Lian, as
she illustrates an example. “It becomes this self-perpetu-
ating cycle of sacrifice and misery. Maybe, this is universal;
parents stay together, even though they’re unhappy, so that
their children can have a father and a mother. Well, they also
can see that you’re miserable, and they equate that with the
dynamics of a family! Is that more important? It creates a
bad environment. Or women who get beaten by their part-
ners, and they’re like, ‘Oh, but he needs a father. F**k that.
You want to teach your kids that you can’t treat a woman
like that.”
Despite doubts from friends and a lack of parental sup-
port, arriving here without any leads didn’t deter Lian from
her goal to make it big in the showbiz scene. “When I first
got here, I just took any opportunity that came knocking. I
was in such an early point in my career. You don’t want to
reject things,” she says. “So people started to take notice and
offered me photo shoots or asked me to model and audition
for various shows. I was just taking advantage of being new
and fresh in the market and seeing what I could do and what
I was comfortable with. The more you work, the more your
work speaks for you.”
Having interned in Malaysia three years prior to her move,
she got in touch with one of her ex-bosses who introduced her
to a few producers. One of them offered her the chance to host
a small event for their video content.
She continues, “That led to the first show that I did, which
was Gua.com.my. It was Media Prima’s first online platform.
I was one of their hosts for the show where they just covered
events and things happening in town.”
The Media Prima online portal opened doors for Lian as
she became the recognisable face of the show, and her jour-
ney into hosting and emceeing skyrocketed. Over the next few
years, she would be involved in many NTV7 and 8TV shows
before her move back to Canada.
N
aturally, all the moving around and non-stop activities
made it hard for Lian to juggle various aspects of her life.
“Dating, of course, was quite difficult, to be honest. It
is probably one of the hardest aspects of this industry, unless
you have someone who you’ve been with for the longest time,
someone who understands.”
But despite that, she insists that relationships have always
taken a backseat in her life.
“I would never move to any city for a man. I would never
consider my boyfriend’s feelings, if I wanted to do something.
I’m a very direct and straightforward person, but my approach
in life has never been about those things,” she says. “I feel that
a relationship will happen if you care about the person, and if
you have a mutual understanding. To meet a guy who can un-
derstand my way of thinking or even understand that I have
career goals was definitely difficult because, at the end of the
day, a guy just wants to come home to someone who’s there,
who will also be part of his life, his partner-in-crime. I wasn’t
able to give that to anyone, so it was definitely a difficult time.”
While dating became a smaller struggle for Lian, the big-
ger struggle that she faced was probably the rejection that
comes with the industry.
“All the jobs that I never got. Every single job I never got
was a fall. And not just that; these weren’t small ‘Oh, I didn’t
get this emcee job.’ These were six-figure, American network
lead roles that I flew to another country to do a screen test for.
And to find out that I didn’t get it was just such a blow. It was
down to me and another girl, and I didn’t get it. I would be so
depressed,” she recalls.
But like the proverb says, “Fall seven times, and get up
eight,” Lian knows that, in the end, it’s really up to you to
keep on trucking. “What are you going to do? Are you going to
wallow? Or cry? There was no point to that. Clearly, I wasn’t
good enough. Or maybe, it was something beyond my control;
maybe, I was too short, or too tall,” she reflects with a playful
smirk, which shows no signs of the regret or sadness that she
so emphatically described earlier.
Malaysia, of course, has no shortage of pretty girls appear-
ing on TV, but like all entertainment platforms around the
world, sexism has remained a constant throughout her expe-
rience around the world.
“I think gender issues are more prevalent, because a lot
of societies, regardless of whatever region you’re from, stem
from men. Men were able to do all these things and women
would just support them. But now, women are able to achieve
just as much as men, and because they had such a long his-
tory of leading, it’s hard for people to get their heads around
it,” she observes. “I think there will always be biases. It’s so
hard for some beautiful women to get a regular job or role
because they’re always going to be seen as the lead. So when
they play some random waitress, there’s a fear that they’re
going to steal the show.”
Looking at the Malaysian film and TV industry, Lian
agrees that our country has a lot of beautiful stories as well
as amazingly talented directors and actors, but is often held
back by unnecessary hindrances and petty politics that get in
the way of making things happen. “I feel that the industry has
been quite complacent with a lot of things that it does. People
simply don’t take ownership. They’re more about the money,
or the numbers that they get, or which actors or actresses can
command more social media attention,” she notes.
Which makes sense in an age where things are more quan-
tifiable through one’s reach, numbers and engagement. But
this, of course, leads to situations where bloggers are appear-
ing in movies, not because they have the acting skills or the
nascent talent, but due to their perceived pull. “I think that
“You only have one life to live,
so just go and do it.”
4. 102 103
our country can do well, but only when the government or
the industry is willing to accept that there are people outside
of the Malay-speaking population who can generate the num-
bers,” she adds.
She scales things back and begins to muse how someone
who grew up in a farm in Sg Petani versus someone who grew
up in Damansara can differ in culture, opinions and thoughts.
“Why is it that their education and sets of values are com-
pletely different?” she asks. “We can’t just point our finger at
something and blame it for that. But when you consider the
bigger picture, we’ve already been segregated from the start:
Chinese schools, government schools, private schools, etc. It
already sets the tone for what kind of job you’re going to get,
what kind of friends you’re going to have, where you’re going
to live and such.”
She ties this back to the issues raised in the recent box-
office hit Ola Bola, where some people questioned the valid-
ity and the historical accuracy of the film’s portrayal of the
Malaysian national football team during qualifications for the
1980 Summer Olympics.
“It’s about a time in Malaysian history that people love,
and a subject that we all love [football] in Malaysia, which is
great. Whether the story is completely accurate is one thing,
but what’s important is that you see this whole unification, a
common goal. It doesn’t matter if you are Indian, Chinese or
Malay. That’s almost a footnote in the whole point.
“You’ll always feel marginalised, if you’re not part of the
majority. How do we overcome this? I can never imagine be-
ing in Malaysia without Malays or Indians. I can’t imagine
that, so why do we ostracise each other and point fingers at
each other every time something like that occurs? It’s sad. You
want to teach children to live an honest life and do the right
thing. Don’t instil those kinds of values at a young age.”
But these racial issues aren’t just unique to Malaysia, I
point out. It happens all around the world constantly. Just
look at Hollywood and the whole #OscarsSoWhite debate.
“I think it’s a lot of not just casting people. Look at Fresh
Off the Boat; it’s a brilliant ABC comedy about Eddie Huang’s
childhood in the US. But white people wrote it. So you can
put Asian faces there, but those are not the kind of conversa-
tions that we have with our parents. No means no, shut up and
go upstairs; that’s it, that’s the end of the conversation,” she
counters. “I think now’s the time for Asia to really step up and
find some really great things that connect all of us to the same
type of value system, the same problems, the same issues that
anyone would be able to actually understand and get.”
I
nterestingly enough, TV and emceeing was not Lian’s first
career choice.
“I did a Bachelor of Design in Fashion. I did it because I
loved it. I did it because I could see myself spending 12 hours
on that a day for work,” she says. “It’s interesting because a
lot of people tend to look at financial security and career lon-
gevity when selecting their courses. I think different people
have different value systems. Some people choose things to
be more practical, and you become a teacher or a doctor or
a lawyer where your skills will be useful. There are others
who do it just for the money, so they see what’s the most
lucrative. Some people don’t know what they want, so they
choose something broad enough to encompass everything
like Mass Communications.”
She continues, “I felt that if there was going to be any in-
vestment in my education that I wanted to do something that
I wanted to do and not something that my parents wanted me
to do, regardless of whether I could study hard and become
a doctor or a lawyer. It didn’t appeal to me. At one point, it
did, and then, for some reason, fashion started to appeal to
me more. It wasn’t so much the fickleness of it, but the stories
that are cultivated at certain periods of time. I like that you
can understand the economic and social impact of a particular
era when you look at a garment.”
While she still designs on the side, Lian feels that her
education and decision to pursue fashion has helped with
her career.
“I think when you sign up for a university education,
you’re there to learn how to analyse and critique, you’re there
to learn how to understand concepts and transform them into
your own thinking and adapt them. So if you were to ask me if
I have used any of my education, I’d say absolutely,” she says
firmly. “Of course, with my skills, I can use different kinds of
software and mediums such video and photography. Those
kinds of things have really helped me with everything that
I’ve done.”
Now the boss of her own agency, she looks at the younger
generation from the viewpoint of an experienced mentor.
“I do think that the younger generation generally have a
sense of entitlement. They see something amazing and feel
like that’s where they should be, but they haven’t put in the
five years,” she says.
For Lian, one has to pay one’s dues. She knows people
don’t like to fall and feel defeated.
“They’re afraid of it and, because of that, they steer clear
of it. If you don’t fall, you’ll never know how painful it is and
you won’t be able to get up,” she reflects. “I started an agency
because I saw how people work in this line and what they try
to do to make themselves known. And because I come from
Canada, and we pride ourselves on being transparent, it’s al-
most like if you prosper, I prosper. There’s no reason to push
someone down so that you can ascend. I think there’s a lot of
that happening in my industry. Even with some of the people
that I’ve managed before or helped with their careers, there
was a huge sense of competition.”
Because of that, Lian aims to create a company with a clear
set of standards.
“I just want to work honestly. So now, we have a few peo-
ple that we’re managing, and they’re not all ‘celebrities’, but
they’re definitely people who are incredibly talented. For us
to brand them and help them move forward with their ca-
reers, it’s just one of those things that if I get to be a part of
something wonderful, and if I can ignite someone’s flame to
burn so big and so brightly, then that’s all I actually want,”
she claims.
When asked if she feels like she has achieved all that she
wants or if she’ll ever stop, Lian says that it’s just her attitude
to pay it forward.
“I had so much help when I first started. A lot of people
helped me with my career. I’ve always wondered where I’d be
without them. The fact is, I’d be nowhere,” she says. “I’ve also
wondered why they helped me. I think, in the end, it all boils
down to my honesty. I’ve never been shady like, ‘Oh, I just
want to hang out with you’, but had an ulterior motive. I would
never exploit a friendship for that reason. People don’t want
to communicate. They’re afraid though, and I don’t know why
they’re afraid. If you don’t ask, you’ll never know.”
PHOTOGRAPHS PRODUCED BY HOPSCOTCH PHOTOGRAPHY; HAIR BY CHIAKI SABATA; MAKEUP BY JOEY YAP;
STYLIST ASSISTED BY SARAH CHONG AND NAWAF RAHMAN; ART DIRECTOR ASSISTED BY KATHRYN TAN.
ALL KIMONOS BY OLDEES (FACEBOOK.COM/THE.OLDEES)
“I chose happiness, I didn’t choose sacrifice.
In Asian culture, a lot of people choose sacrifice.
It’s almost like a badge of honour.”
