The theme of this program is hookup films — stories of young men and women in the city, some by chance, others by design. Each work carries a strong sense of space: homes, subways, laundromats, saunas — online and offline, full of contemporary texture. Sex is the desire to live; when facing death, I feel small, and each night becomes a luxury. At some point, I stopped saying “forever” and began saying “the rest of my life,” though what remains may be only tonight. In one scene, he asks, “Why do you make films?” She answers, “Because I like it.” Because I like it — that’s how simple the reason is for this generation.
Everything changes; the only constant is change itself. Young people who encounter life-altering upheavals face life and death, joy and sorrow. At life’s turning points, the choices they make reveal who these protagonists truly are. Within these stories, we may see reflections of ourselves—or find lives far removed from our own. Yet they always help us understand one another, allowing us, over ten to a few dozen minutes, to experience, grow, and comfort each other together. In a world of ever-shifting circumstances, perhaps cinema is a faithful companion that walks alongside us.
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 Poison Cat
Dayang Bersiong - The Sinful Cook
The Walkers
One to Ten
Lately I have been exploring ways to steal time, so I started keeping a daily journal and writing more songs. I also find myself exchanging my own time more often, half an hour, an hour, sometimes two, to trade for the time captured, extended, and created through images. In this way, the time of others becomes my own. I am grateful to these works for raising many questions. For example, as Kara Jackson sings, “why does the earth give us people to love?” I still do not have an answer.
And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
One Summer's Day
Sometimes, you’re drawn back to the scene by an unseen force—treading carefully, almost fearfully. The crime scenes where bloodstains have long been washed away, the streets where fervent slogans have faded, and the lives forever frozen in a single moment of history—all compel creators to pick up the pen, to lift the camera, and to tell their stories in countless ways. Rooted in reality, the act of creation becomes a delicate balance. Is it a faithful record, an excavation of truth? A transformation of reality? Or a search for meaning in the present? Imagination may run wild, but what is the thread that keeps pulling him back—again and again—to the real?
March: The Southern South
Noname Square
Taste of Wild Tomato
Nine Shots
And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
“As the saying goes, in martial arts, speed is everything.” To me, short animation is more than a space for experimentation and self-training—it’s where ideas are rapidly tested within limited duration, using refined visuals and sound to cut straight to the essence of storytelling. One night, I watched several shorts in a row—dreamlike and surreal, blending the absurd with realism, tenderness, and wit. Though brief and diverse in style, they leave a lasting emotional and intellectual resonance. They convinced me that short animation is a contemporary craft of speed, precision, and impact—striking straight to the core.
Bloody Dairy
Night Bus
Minus Plus Multiply
Noname Square
Perhaps it’s because I grew up in a crowded, complex city that I’ve always been drawn to films set in urban landscapes. The dense weave of skyscrapers and winding streets has a certain allure, holding countless souls and stories within. I like to quietly observe these passing lives—moments of movement, waiting, and everyday fragments. It’s not just about seeing the world, but about finding, within these intersecting paths, a version of myself I once knew.
A Long Ride
In Memory of The Chinatown
Monsoon Blue
Big Day
Before the Box Gets Emptied
"I love you, yet hate you!" Your countenance, your gestures, your radiance—like lightning and flint sparks—are a red balloon that drifts farther the more it is called, a mottled soul writhing in electric illusion, a silhouette branded into white snow, an evil flower blooming from rotting flesh, beautiful as a painted landscape. I have decided to pursue you through light and shadow, to discover what made you make that decision.
Happy Hour I
Happy HourⅡ
Layover
Flight of the Red Balloon
The Hostess
The women who appear in the films above are compelling. They are independent and strong, yet at the same time carry a deep sense of thoughtfulness within them. Through them, I learn an attitude toward living life.
Feature films may be getting longer these days, but the charm of short films and short collections is still going strong. Whether fiction or documentary, they build their own worlds in a short and sweet way. Nice and easy, nice and happy — you can enjoy them in a good mood, and if a few tears come along, that’s fine too.
Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy
At The Bench
Can You Hear Me?
Do Not Go Gentle in Taipei
