2003
Golden Horse Awards
最佳紀錄片
最佳紀錄片
電影和紀錄片，從來都不只是娛樂。相較於純粹的觀者，願意投身其中的熱情，更需要豐厚的理念支撐。Giloo 邀請到甫以《該死的阿修羅》入圍台北電影獎最佳男配角的莫子儀擔任本月焦點人物。長年關注紀實作品的他，除了飽覽群片，更曾親自演出「他們在島嶼寫作」系列作品。疫情期間仍心繫劇場的莫子儀，在五月的 Live session《夢遊的人》順利落幕後暫時卸下重擔，並接受了 Giloo 的文字訪談，和我們聊聊他眼中的紀錄片，以及影響最深遠的那些作品。
There’s something deeply captivating about the light and shadow of a bygone era. Classic and vintage films carry the spirit of 1980s and 1990s Taipei—woven with memories, youth, and the passage of time. Through these images, you’ll catch glimpses of everyday life and the sense of freedom that belonged to that time.
This curated film list centers around the Time Travel Taiwan Series, featuring 13 Taiwanese documentary filmmakers who reinterpret officially archived footage through creative reimagining. By transforming historical images into new narratives, they breathe fresh life into decades past. Audiences are invited to step into a time tunnel — to explore Taiwan’s historical landscapes and witness the sparks ignited by cross-generational dialogue through these experimental visual works.
Finding Stillness in Uncertain Times: 10 Curated Films from Our Resident Artists During the pandemic, we’ve found more quiet moments to truly appreciate the beauty of everyday life. Resident artists from the National Theater & Concert Hall have each handpicked a film that resonates deeply with them—inviting you to slow down and reflect during this period of working from home. ▍Huang Yu-Ching: “With limited movement, we are asked to listen more closely to the inner voice of our bodies. Want to watch two snails slowly form a connection? There’s no better time for something this soothing.” ▍Wang Chao-Chien: “The pandemic has made us all more aware of distance—the distance of time, the distance between becoming and performing a role, and the strange moments that define legendary bands. These films help us sit with those feelings and reflect.” ▍Chien Chieh: “They are storytellers, writers, dancers, filmmakers. Documentaries capture an era or linger on a single figure, guiding us closer to ourselves.”
What Did Taiwan’s First Pop Songs Sound Like? How did a group of young people returning to the countryside turn an old tobacco-curing shed into the birthplace of a classic album? How did one small indie record label become the cradle of Taiwan’s biggest rock bands? In collaboration with Blow (吹音樂), Taiwan’s leading independent music media outlet, we've selected 9 films exploring the roots and evolution of Taiwan’s music scene—alongside a powerful documentary on Rolling Stone, the iconic U.S. music magazine born in an era of rebellion. From the golden age of modern Taiwanese pop to the rise of underground and alternative bands, these films span nearly a century of music history. For fans stuck at home and missing the thrill of live gigs, let these moving images bring you back to a time when legends were just getting started.
Because we have bodies—we dance. For all the fleeting emotions that language cannot carry, for the sighs that slip between chest and lips, for the searing songs that burn holes in our tongues, when words and sound fall short, the human body rises—our hands begin to speak, our feet begin to move. In the early 20th century, the phonograph arrived in Taiwan from Japan. Records traveled by train to Yilan. In Shanghai, Tokyo, and Taipei, stylish men and women danced the foxtrot. Desires became modern, love became free—by the riverside, in spring dreams, we declared: We are civilized women. Taiwan had entered the age of dance. But dancing isn’t always freedom. Japanese dancer Genjyu Hanayagi woke a sleeping dog with her body. She hadn’t yet shed the kimono—the garment shaped by a feudal system that once bound women. But the kimono would never devour her. As long as she danced, she could swallow discrimination whole. Argentinian tango queen María Nieves put on her flowing dress and danced her way out of poverty, out of the milonga halls, onto Broadway. It took her half a century to reclaim her steps—through deadly embraces and long gazes, through love and hate, intimacy and estrangement. Only when the music stopped did she find her freedom. When women aren’t dancing, is the body a work of art? A doll? The women photographed by the bad boy Helmut Newton dance even in stillness. He stares through the viewfinder—at them, at himself. Their gazes meet, a tango of vision. To gaze is to reclaim space for the body. Snails need no eyes to stake their claim in the world. They dance a love never known before—pure, entangled, silent. They lick the edges of dusk and morning, drawing desire in trails of slime. I love watching dance—sometimes I dance wildly myself. In these five documentaries, in their movements, I feel it again: the body being born. And with it, connection.
The Women Make Waves International Film Festival in Taiwan is Asia’s first issue-based film festival focusing on women. Since its founding 29 years ago, it has been dedicated not only to promoting women's work in cinema but also to introducing Taiwanese audiences to films rich in gender discourse and humanistic vision. Giloo presents a curated selection of award-winning and officially selected films from the festival — both fiction and documentary — inviting you to revisit and celebrate these powerful works.
For those of us who love music, beyond immersing ourselves in listening and appreciation—have we ever wondered what sounds and music have gone through in their journey of development? From modern-day film sound designers to distant Cuban musicians, we trace the evolution of music back to the origins of Taiwan’s pop music in the 1930s—before it was abruptly silenced by war. We continue through the political upheavals of the 1950s, and finally return to the most intimate sound we all encounter: conversations with our family. (Photo courtesy of: Taiwan Beats)
Movement arises from the everyday—originating from the body. The relationship between body and daily life influences our emotions, perceptions, and connections with others. Through the lens of documentaries and the eyes of an observer, we revisit the messages often overlooked in our fast-paced lives. These films explore how the body shapes our sense of being, inviting us to reflect on different ways of living. "Memory of the Body – The Rhythm of Life Film Festival", co-curated by Cloud Gate Dance School and Giloo, invites you to rediscover the rhythm between body and life. Awaken your senses and reconnect with the essence of living.
It all started as a joke: “Will people say this is too Taiwanese?” After all, we’re the ones always afraid of being boring or too slow— and yet here we are, gritting our teeth and programming a lineup of gloriously slow cinema. But some stories can’t be skipped. Some lessons, no matter how painful, you just have to get through. Taiwan’s inner angst is like a deep bruise beneath the skin—long-settled and hard to press out. Sometimes, you just need a hot young masseur to work it loose. Whether you end up loving, hating, or feeling nothing at all about Taiwan, we invite you to revisit its joy, rage, sorrow, and everything in between. This film festival is like a sketchy pair of hands passing you crib notes under the table—an attempt to loosen what refuses to unclench, to summarize the unsummarizable.