Unfinished Film

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.

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!

Just finished watching An Unfinished Film in the cinema. As a film that is prohibited from being screened in mainland China, it's actually quite restrained in its portrayal. The scene where the crew reunites and toasts as the song "Twilight" plays is both peaceful and poignant; the melody and lyrics feel so powerful.

When you think about it, what has Lou Ye captured in this film? Nothing more than documentation. The camera is honest, and the person holding it is not afraid of being blacklisted. A literally unfinished film, a banned old song-woven together, they fight against a memory that is fading and constantly redefined. Though the viewing experience was a bit traumatic, I don't regret it at all; I found it meaningful. Thank you, Lou Ye.

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.

This experimental film draws its essence from temporal dislocation-repurposing old movie footage and blending it with newly shot material to form a new narrative. The resulting intertwining of timelines creates a hazy, dreamlike atmosphere. Especially under the shadow of the pandemic, it pulls the audience into this suspended space where time and memory dissolve into one.

The frequent use of phone-shot footage embedded within the cinematic frame adds a layer of realism, though it also feels jarring-hovering somewhere between documentary and fiction. The dramatic tension reaches its peak under themes of lockdown and conflict, evoking a collective memory. Viewers are transported back to that surreal period.

Though the film may not reach a wide audience, it stands as a vital visual record of an extraordinary time. The dialogue often references things invisible to the audience, leaving them amused or confused-like the director's private jokes or self-mockery. Still, the existence of this film ensures that one day, someone will watch it. And that alone is enough.