Let the Wind Carry Me
In Character
The Shepherds
The Chinese Mayor
Time Splits in the River
Miracle
Small Oyster Rock in Kezailiao
The Wages of Resistance：Narita Stories
In Memory of The Chinatown
The Fall of Icarus：Narita Stories
Rui-Ming Band
KJ: Music and Life
Flight of the Red Balloon
Let the Wind Carry Me
In Character
The Chinese Mayor
The Wages of Resistance：Narita Stories
Wild Tides
Master Sheng Yen
Chen Uen
Small Oyster Rock in Kezailiao
The Hostess
The Walkers
Su Beng, the Revolutionist
The Edge of Night
The Rocking Sky
Spring: The Story of Hsu Chin-Yu
The Shepherds
Do Not Go Gentle in Taipei
In Memory of The Chinatown
As human beings, we are social animals, yet hopelessly alone. In states of solitude, each of us often encounters our own power animal.
This title quotes Tarcy Su’s 1998 song “The Whole World in Chaos.” In this playlist, we encounter all kinds of collapse: so many cars, so many chases, so much longing that goes unanswered. But if we refuse to embrace chaos itself, how can we ever build our own inner order within it? Wishing everyone a joyful viewing experience, and good health in both body and mind.
Oh, the allure of looking back and reminiscing for better days gone by… Nostalgia develops in us sentimental creatures for a multitude of reasons, be it dissatisfaction of the present, an impending doom for the future, or the painful realisation of past mistakes. The most poignant form of nostalgia materialises when the present has passed the point of no return. Force majeure and the ones that got away. Films on the list captured distinct era in the personal or societal past, that shine light on our inescapable present, for better or worse. Might we become better beings when we come out from the other side. “If we should weep when clowns put on their show, If we should stumble when musicians play, Time will say nothing but I told you so.” If I Could Tell You - W.H. Auden
Dream in Silence
The Edge of Night
KJ: Music and Life
Grandma's Hairpin
Before the Box Gets Emptied
The Sea Within
Su Beng, the Revolutionist
For women, to live as full human beings in this world has never been easy. In these stories, women are placed within multiple roles: daughters-in-law, mothers, job seekers, and migrant brides within transnational contexts. Between bodily experience, childbirth, and the question of staying or leaving, they struggle between trauma recovery and life choices, while also being seen and expected within structures of power. They are expected to embody contradictory ideals: to be both desirable bodies and symbols of purity; to conform to norms while pursuing ideals. Within structures shaped by violence, sexual harassment, and entrenched misogyny, they continue to resist within bodies that are constantly constrained, seeking possibilities of freedom and rebirth. Their lives unfold like flowers in bloom. The Blood of a Hen and The River of White Porcelain may respond, through image, to the complexity of these predicaments, and open up alternative ways of seeing and understanding women’s experiences.
“If a person stays in a place long enough, part of their soul will remain there.” These words, spoken by the protagonist of my documentary, not only profoundly shaped the way I see my hometown and the places where I grew up, but also became a kind of revelation. I used to fear that these places would become unfamiliar, or even disappear entirely. Yet this sentence taught me how to look gently at disappearance and loss. The films in this program gaze upon living, breathing lives, observing how each person leaves a part of their soul in the places where they have lived, wandered, or stayed.
Cyclone
In Memory of The Chinatown
Between the Stars and Waves
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.
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
