2014
Golden Horse Awards
最佳紀錄片提名
Directed by 陳芯宜
最佳紀錄片提名
台灣競賽單元｜國際競賽單元｜觀眾票選獎
每次看到阿飽，小小的眼睛含笑，脂粉未施的圓臉旁覆著厚黑齊眉的頭髮。她說話前總要先頓一頓，想好了才出口，有時托著腮，從她斜斜上揚的黑眼珠可以知道她正在思考，或者搜尋記憶畫面。記得兩年前在華光社區，一個阻止強拆的清晨，阿飽與其他所⋯⋯
Giloo presents award-winning festival favorites, buzzworthy films, and thought-provoking documentaries, bringing together diverse themes and compelling stories. Step into the Spotlight Screening selection and discover films that have captured attention, sparked discussion, and are well worth revisiting.
What is Taiwan? What does Taiwan have? Our imagination of Taiwan’s future depends on how we choose to read Taiwan. The Taiwanese documentaries selected by Giloo aim to offer a multifaceted and in-depth perspective—allowing us to empathize with the struggles and efforts of the Taiwanese people, uncover the richness of this land, confront its challenges, and analyze the issues that shape life on this island.
"Every part of the body has its own memory. All the trauma we’ve experienced is stored in our bodies."—Marina Abramović While curating this special Giloo playlist—limited to just five films—I slowly discovered what I truly care about. I’ve always felt that people are fragile. Everyone carries moments of sadness, loneliness, and pain. After much inner struggle, I chose five films that have accompanied me through some of the most significant times in my life. Each time I press play, the tears come naturally. I deeply believe in the healing power of cinema—its ability to connect people from vastly different walks of life through shared emotions. We are never truly alone. And I hope, through these films, we can all find a little strength and courage to shift our reality, even just a bit.
Gotham City has its Bat-Signal to summon Batman in times of need. In moments of our own despair, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we, too, could summon someone? With that feeling in mind, I’ve selected five biographical documentaries worth watching again and again. Their subjects come from vastly different walks of life—a Zen master, a dancer, a legal scholar, a writer, and a musician. Each has chosen their own path, carrying their own questions and insights into the world. We, the viewers, are profoundly fortunate. Within a span of around 120 minutes, we get a front-row seat to their moments of difficulty—watching a master retune an out-of-key instrument, or wrestle with an unsolvable problem. We become privileged passengers, momentarily drawing close to another person’s life. And perhaps, after the credits roll, we, too, feel washed clean. The next morning, we wake with a little more clarity, ready to begin again.
The surreal often emerges from everyday life. The rituals, urban legends, and folk beliefs in this selection may appear as distant as myths, yet they are deeply embedded in our daily experience, touching the most potent emotions and sense of awe within us. I have always believed that the surreal is not the strangeness of the external world, but an enlargement of what lies within. Between the mysterious and the mundane, the landscapes of Asia give rise to their own authentic and singular tales. These films move through the cracks between reality and myth, illuminating the subtle, ineffable connections between people and the world, between faith and the void.
The contemporary world is accelerating; battling with time and efficiency has become a daily routine for most. But the faster we go, the blurrier some things become, to the point of being unheard or unseen. Thus, within the span of a single film, through several deeply contemplative "gazes," it's possible to discover that "slowing down" is, in fact, a very, very, very beautiful thing. By immersing ourselves in this slow spirit through cinema, some things finally become clear, and then, they can be heard and seen.
