Una película inacabada

Watched @Vancouver, CA.

This is a mockumentary-style film. During the first third, the constantly shaking camera almost made me nauseous. However, after the halfway point, the film gradually finds its rhythm and becomes increasingly engaging.

For such a major public health event, it was astonishing how quickly the pandemic vanished from public discourse after the lockdowns were lifted-no one talked about it, no one reflected on it, as if it had all been just a dream. Especially in mainland China, discussing the pandemic became a taboo, even though it had been the very center of life for three whole years.

As I watched the film, those buried memories suddenly came back to life. I was struck by the realization that I had once lived through it all so vividly. This chapter of history should not be forgotten - it is the path we have walked to get here.

Throughout the film, I was deeply moved more than once, with tears welling up in my eyes. As someone who lived through the pandemic, I didn't need the film to show me what happened next-I already knew. But when someone holds up those moments for you to see again, they still hit you hard. At the end of the film, the theater echoed with applause-both for the film, and for all of us.

Thank you to the director and the cast for their courage in making this film. I know very well the immense pressure they faced-this film will not be released, or even allowed to be mentioned, in mainland China. Yet still, someone far from home was moved by it, enough to seek out this platform and write an English review-for the path we've walked, and for the sake of conscience.

This work is so true that even triggered my traumatic memories from covid. I couldn't help but cry. Sitting in the completely dark cinema, I heard sobbing from somewhere near and far, echoing with mine. I realized that pain can even be a form of connection. The sick painful experience we shared allows us recognize each other just by our red and puffy eyes.

When lights turned up, applause erupted, walking out from the cinema, I put the tissue I cried on into jacket pocket and felt some relief and comfort. The pain that had never been allowed to spill out finally got understood... Because of the censorship, we don't have much our own Covid narratives, those produced by civil society rather government. But thankfully we have Lou Ye.

I CANNOT STOP CRYING. The film is only not longer than 2 hours but that really is a mere documentary of the very start and the followed 3 years of worse than hell we've actually been thru. We may have moved on now but THAT 3 YEARS of pure oppression and suffering is not to be forgiven and forgotten. The girl that cried for her mom following the ambulance carrying her mom's body to cremation without being allowed to see her one last time. The girl locked in the building whose mom jumped out of the window was just lying right outside, and she was not allowed to come out. The fire, the people who cannot escape for the building was locked with chains. And the fact that you are not even allowed to talk about any of it.

To European or U. S. audiences, you might don't like the shooting method, the plot is kind of messy, the screen is not clear.

But if you understand the censorship in China, or search about it before watching this movie, especially get some knowledge about Li Wenliang, Urumqi Fire in 2022, White Paper Revolution, then you will understand this film is about memory. During the film crew dancing in the hallway on the Chinese New Year, that is the human subconscious eagerness to freedom; the phone videos show people rebelling the policemen, that indicates citizens of China rebel Chinese Community Party.

When you know that this film is completely wiped out in the digital world of People's Republic of China, this is a Chinese director directed Chinese film about China during COVID which is prohibited to publish and watch only in China, and this is the true end of this film. This is the reason why I give it 9 stars!

I had long heard of this film and rushed to see it as soon as it screened in London. As the film says, how tragic it is to finish a movie that can't be shown. But during a masterclass, the director said he simply forgot-forgot that filming here wasn't allowed, forgot about censorship. He just filmed what they wanted to film, and only afterward did they think about how to solve the problems.

"All your life, you search for a reason to love the land beneath your feet. But what does the greatness defined by others mean to you?" What moved me the most were the real documentary footage and the ending theme. Turns out, I haven't forgotten anything after all. While the film's value lies more in its social reality than in its artistic form, I'm grateful to see directors like Lou Ye still documenting what truly happens in China.