At 60, the actress is a woman in her prime. Her star continues to rise, proving that age is no barrier to achieving greater new heights
In a floor‐sweeping strapless red gown and with her freshly cropped hair slicked back, Tan Kheng Hua is the picture of sophistication. The gritty setting of Sin Huat Eating House—a coffee shop in Geylang loved by culinary luminaries—is an antithesis to her glamour. Yet there she sits, elegant and nonchalantly at ease on an orange plastic stool and with chopsticks in hand.
On set, Tan is a photographer’s dream, effortlessly morphing into different characters, be it a cape‐clad diva striking a pose at National Kitchen by Violet Oon or a cheeky audience member heckling an empty stage at the hallowed Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay. A quick glance at the test shots is all she needs to work her magic. “Let’s go for the campiness,” she suggests as her laughter and infectious energy fill the vast expanse of the theatre, even play‐acting throwing kacang putih (nut snacks sold in paper cones) from a cone put together on the fly by the crew.
Away from the cameras, Tan is disarmingly grounded, chatting about her fondness for wearing slippers everywhere and her routine morning strolls to the kopitiam (a colloquial term for coffee shop). Her genuine interest in the crew’s lives and her readiness to chauffeur us to the various photo shoot locations reveal a nurturing and maternal side; it is no wonder she is affectionately known as Mama Kheng on set.

Above Tan Kheng Hua on the December 2023 cover of Tatler Singapore
When we first connected over a video call in October, Tan had been living a remote, off‐grid life for six months, on an island in British Columbia in a “dilapidated” cabin devoid of electricity and plumbing, and with a compost toilet. This desire to live remotely took root while she was filming in Vancouver. She has always been athletic—her school years saw her participating in gymnastics, marathons and canoeing—and the great outdoors appealed. The more time she spent in the Canadian province’s natural landscapes, the harder it was to resist the call of the wilderness. “I was compelled towards a life that’s less consumption‐based and more nature‐focused,” she says—although she has since transformed the cabin into an “extremely liveable” space with modern amenities, such as hot water powered by propane heating.
Such rustic living may seem at odds with Tan’s glamorous public persona, but deliberate choices after careful consideration are also part of her personality. “I have long gestation periods. But the decision‐making is ultimately clear ... Once Kheng sets her mind on something, she has to see it through,” she says.
This theme of deliberate pacing has been a recurrent one throughout her life, with her late entry into Hollywood being a recent example. “I only came to work in North America in my late 50s. I’m a real proponent of being a late developer. When you take things on at an older age, you tend to be more level‐headed,” she says. And far from the notion that society has long perpetuated about opportunities for women over 40, Tan’s career is nowhere near winding down. Her breakthrough in Hollywood is not her swan song, but an affirmation of her long‐held conviction: that there is untold grace in late blooming.

Above Tan wears a Marchesa gown, available at enVie de Pois
In the past five years, she has steadily raised her international profile. “When I think about my life now in regard to work, [I think of it as] BCRA and ACRA: before and after Crazy Rich Asians. My whole lifestyle changed,” she says. Since portraying Kerry Chu, protagonist Rachel Chu’s mum, in the hit film, Tan has been a fixture on international screens, with roles in Grey’s Anatomy and Magnum PI, as well as the UK’s Channel 4 TV miniseries Chimerica and Netflix’s Medical Police. She was also a series regular in three seasons of Kung Fu, The CW’s modern‐day adaptation of the 1970s martial arts series of the same name. Reflecting on her Hollywood journey so far, Tan says: “I had very few expectations, but it’s been lovely. Experiencing brand‐new things at an older age is a wonderful, life‐giving thing.”
Prior to Hollywood, Tan had already garnered recognition among both Singaporean and international audiences with her portrayal of Margaret in the local sitcom Phua Chu Kang Pte Ltd and as the Empress Dowager in Netflix’s Marco Polo. She also made her mark in landmark plays staged by home‐grown theatre companies, such as Beauty World, Descendants of the Eunuch Admiral and Cooling Off Day.
Asked about her preferred medium, Tan shares that she is especially fond of television, as the audience forms a unique bond with the cast. She says: “I recently said yes to a wedding invitation and the mother of the bridegroom said, ‘Oh yay, Margaret [from Phua Chu Kang] is coming.’ I did the show when I was in my 30s and I’m 60 now. With TV audiences, it’s a long‐term relationship. That’s how I want to be remembered—not for my personal life.”
This need for privacy is clear when we speak to her. In our conversation, she refrains from discussing her ex‐husband, fellow actor Lim Yu‐Beng, and her current partner. Additionally, she expresses concern over how other media outlets have published details about her new partner without her input or consent. Despite this reserve, her affection is evident when the topic turns to her daughter Shi‐An, who, like her parents, has taken to acting as a career.
Beyond acting, Tan is also a distinguished television and stage producer, known for her work on the iconic live cabaret act the Dim Sum Dollies as well as Mediacorp’s television series 9 Lives and Do Not Disturb. On the international stage, she produced the theatre piece No 7 for Penang’s George Town Festival in 2011 and led the festival’s Sin‐Pen Colony showcase in 2014.

Above Tan wears a gown by
Isabel Sanchis and a Mikimoto high jewellery necklace
Tan’s path to where she is now was far from linear. Unlike many of her peers, she only considered a career in acting later in life. Her love for the craft was first ignited when she took a theatre elective while studying for her science degree at Indiana University Bloomington in the US. When she returned to Singapore, she worked in corporate affairs and marketing for local retailers FJ Benjamin and CK Tang, juggling theatre gigs after hours. Tan was invested in her day job. “It was by no means something that I took on to feed my artistic career,” she says. “I was split in halves with corporate Kheng and artiste Kheng. I devoted as much of myself to [each].” By the time she decided to pursue acting seriously, she was already in her thirties. “I was not ready to leave [the] corporate [world] or let go of discovering the arts. I said to myself: ‘Kheng, kill yourself loving them as much as possible.’”
She describes that stage of life as her “dying a happy dance”. Despite demanding production schedules and sleeping only three to four hours a night, she fully embraced the chaos. “I’d wake up the next day, put on my corporate make‐up and clothes, and then go to work. I burnt the candle at both ends and shot from all the cannons. It was a life where every single minute of the day was devoted to something intentional,” she says.
With her personal life taking a back seat, she plunged headlong into her twin pursuits. “I was a late developer in regard to boyfriends—I was single for a long time until my late twenties. As a single young adult, with curiosities that had nothing to do with a person or romance, I could jump off the cliff with my compulsions,” she says. “I fell in love with acting very quickly.” It is a time she looks back on fondly: “That feeling of being a young person in love with what she’s doing. Waking up every morning with all your synapses exploding and jumping into the day, and going to sleep dog‐tired. It was such a visceral life.”
The turning point was when she performed in Lao Jiu, a theatre production by home‐grown company Theatreworks, at Australia’s Perth Festival in 1994. “When I returned, I felt that something had changed inside me. It wasn’t that I no longer loved my corporate job; it was more about my curiosity at what it would be like to indulge in [my passion full‐time],” she says. That was when she decided to be a full‐time actor. “Making the leap wasn’t difficult at all. Once I take something on, I tend to submerge.”
Although Kung Fu came to a close this May after three seasons, Tan remains busy with other exciting commitments. She recently revealed her role in the independent romantic comedy Worth the Wait, which has an all‐Asian ensemble cast, including Lana Condor, Ross Butler and Sung Kang. She is taking on her first stint as executive producer in North America as well, working with webcomics portal Keenspot and film and television production company Zero Gravity Management to turn the Kung Fu Legume comic books into an animation series.

Above Tan wears a Loro Piana ensemble, Gentle Monster sunglasses,
Van Cleef & Arpels high jewellery earring, bracelet and Christian Louboutin heels
This year, Tan also lent her voice to projects by Singapore production company Robot Playground Media and streaming service Paramount Plus, such as the latter’s animated film The Tiger’s Apprentice, which is set to be released early next year and also features the voices of heavy hitters such as Michelle Yeoh, Henry Golding and Sherry Cola.
The months‐long writers’ and actors’ strikes had left Tan in what she describes as “a limbo state” for some time—which she shares was not necessarily a negative experience. “I’m slowly learning about the different energies in me. I have an opportunity to figure out what I want to do, and it’s not solely about work,” she says, adding that she sees her life as a continual process of “crystallisation”, a term she uses to describe the ongoing journey of becoming a more authentic version of herself. “Bouncing between environments is how I tell myself that I’m the same person no matter where I go. That crystallisation of myself is something I want to continue to do until I die.”
Tan strikes us as someone who has found a sense of liberation that comes with embracing one’s golden years. The anxieties she faced as a younger woman have faded into the background—“All that worry about the rubbishy things during the rubbishy years are gone,” she says—and her insatiable curiosity also keeps her energised. “I’m curious about a lot of things. I’m restless. I can’t sit still. When I want to do something, I’ll do it.”
It is not only the wisdom and self‐acceptance that can come with age that have led to this sense of certainty about her life choices: Tan says that having her daughter also changed her significantly. “Her birth had a profound effect on my career. I became more relaxed. It worked for me as an actor because I wasn’t so precious or kan cheong (uptight) about it anymore,” she says. “The milestones are not about fame or Hollywood; they are the big things that have allowed me to become a better artiste.”
With a slew of projects and an enthusiastic embracing of her maturity, we can only imagine that Tan will continue to grow her career with the same vigour and introspection that have always marked her journey. Her craft serves as both her steadfast pillar and her solace through the shifting seasons of life. “My relationship with the arts, and with myself as an artiste and actor, is so fully formed,” she says. “It’s one of the strongest, most productive, healthiest and long‐lasting relationships that I’ve developed. It’s so delightful, nurturing and good for me. I run to it like [I would to a] good friend whenever I’m down, lost or looking for answers.”
Credits
Photography: Darren Gabriel Leow
Photography Assistant: Rex Teo
Styling: Adriel Chiun
Stylist's Assistant: Cleo Tang
Hair: Leong using Kevin Murphy
Make-Up: Dollei Seah at Make-up Entourage using Chanel Beauty
Location: Esplanade – Theatres On The Bay, National Kitchen By Violet Oon, Sin Huat Eating House




