As a sign of my appreciation for a film made with honesty and sincerity, I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to Babah and every member of its production team, as well as the cast, for making me fall in love with local cinema again.
Thank you, as I truly needed this.
I also hope that what I write here can do justice to the film Babah, because honestly, my experience watching Babah is almost indescribable in words.
Babah is a Malaysian drama film that was just released in theaters in December 2024, directed by Mohd Shah Faizul Ibrahim. Babah also marks his directorial debut, having previously worked extensively as a cinematographer, including on the film Butak (2020), directed by Sabri Yunus.
Babah tells the story of the love and sacrifices of a hearing-impaired father, Isyak, played by Qi Razali, alongside his wife Hayati, portrayed by Cristina Suzanne, for their only daughter Maya, played by Sweet Qismina.
The narrative of Babah unfolds through significant moments in Isyak's family life, following a timeline that shows how Maya grows up to become a celebrated woman.
Alright, let’s begin.
The Malaysian film industry has produced many drama-centric films for cinemas, but at times, I find myself confused by the format presented. There are moments when I wonder whether the filmmakers understand the differences between film and TV formats.
Unlike others, Babah stands apart. From the moment the film begins, as the projector light illuminates the cinema screen to bring the visuals and audio to life for us, the audience, I could feel the extraordinary essence of a true film.
This director has genuinely crafted a movie for us to enjoy, taking us on an emotional journey throughout the more than two hours of Babah’s runtime on the big screen. It is an emotional voyage.
I was highly impressed by the performances of all the lead actors in Babah. In my opinion, Qi successfully delivered the emotions of a father who celebrates his only daughter in their small family. This is no easy feat, especially since, to my limited knowledge, Qi himself has yet to become a father. Moreover, the character Isyak is portrayed as hearing-impaired, adding further depth to Babah’s protagonist.
Every emotion Isyak displayed—happiness, worry, sadness, anger, panic, restlessness, and joy—resonated with me. The film also adds a unique layer to Isyak’s character by making him a horologist, a watch enthusiast, giving him moments of personal reflection as he engages with his passion. But more importantly, the watches symbolically connect time and space in Babah.
Time is the most precious treasure for every living being.
Cristina Suzanne, as Hayati, Isyak’s wife, is a modern representation of the traditional Malay family institution. In a family where Isyak is the breadwinner, the only one who drives and pushes the grocery cart (symbolizing his pivotal role), Hayati embodies modernity while remaining grounded in family values. She is intelligent, rational, and serves as a calming and balancing force within the family.
Hayati exudes tranquility and ensures harmony within the family. While Isyak fulfills the stereotypical role of the Malay family patriarch who works and handles external matters, Hayati is the true driver of the narrative. The director skillfully portrays Hayati as complementing Isyak, allowing his character to shine while respecting her pivotal role as the family’s anchor.
Interestingly, the narration of Babah is through Hayati, and rightly so—she is the observer of Isyak’s and Maya’s growth.
Maya grows up as a cherished daughter. From childhood to adulthood, she evolves into a woman who can support Isyak’s family. This is evident when Maya takes over paying for groceries at the supermarket—a task previously done by Isyak. Similarly, Maya transitions from being served meals by her parents to buying food for Isyak as an adult.
These scenes highlight Maya’s transformation from an innocent child to a rebellious teenager and finally to a responsible woman. Maya embodies the qualities of both her parents: responsible like Isyak and wise and calming like Hayati.
Despite her growth, Maya remains a child in Isyak’s eyes, and she cherishes that perception. Like all of us, no matter how old we grow or how many responsibilities we bear, our parents remain our ultimate sanctuary. A place we call home.

The performance by Qismina deserves praise, especially in the third act of the story, where Maya undergoes a variety of emotional challenges.
Music plays a crucial role in shaping the emotional essence of a film, and Babah is rich with beautiful compositions that enhance the emotional experience. The soundtrack, particularly Rahsia Tuhan, performed and composed by Noh Salleh, leaves a profound impact. The title alone, Rahsia Tuhan (The Secret of God), encapsulates the entire narrative of Babah. It reminds us that everything we experience on this Earth as Allah's stewards is a mystery known only to Him. Our task is to create and cherish those moments meaningfully, making the most of every second.
Life itself is the secret of God.
I also loved the musical score in this film. For a story centered on a hearing-impaired protagonist, the arrangement and melody of its music are remarkably beautiful, playing skillfully with the audience's emotions.
The costumes in Babah are thoughtful, character-driven, and stylish. I can't recall any recent local films that excel in this aspect. Since the movie follows a timeline, we see Isyak and Hayati’s timeless yet era-appropriate fashion. Every time the characters appeared on screen, I was captivated by how effortlessly their costumes complemented the story. Beyond being a family drama, Babah could serve as a reference for timeless style in Malaysian cinema.
The props were also handled meticulously, reflecting the director’s respect for filmmaking as an art form. I appreciated the modest yet elegant layout of Isyak’s home and the intimate, personal design of his watch shop. The film effectively used props like the two national cars, the Proton Saga and X70, to signify the passage of time in Isyak’s life.
The spatial dynamics in this film are commendable.
Babah demonstrates that actors don't need to overact or shout to convey emotions. With precise timing, suitable background sounds, and expressive body language, Babah creates humor effectively. One standout scene was when the family shopped for groceries, and Maya tried to express her wishes to Isyak. Another was when Ikmal visited Maya’s home to meet her parents.
The film masterfully communicates through the actors' facial expressions and eye movements, making the audience laugh and cry naturally, without feeling forced. This emotional resonance hit me deeply as an audience member.
Moreover, I was drawn to the subtle symbolism embedded throughout the film. These simple yet meaningful elements elevated the story. For instance, the seating arrangement at Isyak's family dining table: Maya occupies the seat traditionally reserved for the family head, while Isyak sits between her and Hayati. This deviation from the typical patriarchal family setup underscores Maya's importance in the family and how her presence is celebrated.
Similarly, Hayati’s shift to the back seat of the car after Ikmal enters the family parallels her earlier position in the car when Isyak first brought her and newborn Maya home from the hospital. The recurring motif of watches as a representation of eternal time subtly reinforces the story’s emotional depth.
Babah delivers a satisfying resolution, seamlessly tying its conclusion to the theme of God’s mysteries. One of Isyak's final lines stands out as the perfect closing note for Babah.
Babah is a film I envy deeply. If I had the chance to direct a movie, this is the kind of story I would want to create.
As we near the end of 2024, I am grateful for a film like Babah, which I have long awaited. Without hesitation, I declare Babah the best local film of 2024.
If Susan Lankaster won awards this year for her role as a mother in Rain Town (2024), I have high hopes for Qi to achieve the same in 2025.
Just as Thailand has How to Make a Million Before Grandma Dies (2024) and Indonesia has Ngeri Ngeri Sedap (2022), Malaysia can proudly present Babah. This is the kind of film we can confidently export to these countries—something that films like Sheriff (2024) and Mat Kilau (2022) failed to achieve.
A soulful film like Babah deserves to be celebrated together!

*This article is written based on the reflection of the writer’s own personal view and expression towards the subject matter.