2023
Golden Horse Awards
最佳動畫短片
最佳動畫短片
金獎
《夏夢迴》這部短片在短短十五分鐘裡，把都市人的壓力、迷惘和想逃離的心情表現得非常直接。片中的風暴、黑暗和變形的畫面，其實都像我們在面對人生問題時的內心狀態——越想找答案，越覺得自己被困住、喘不過氣。那條被裝在塑膠袋裡的金魚，是整部作品裡最讓我印象深刻的象徵。牠明明屬於自由的水域，卻只能在小小的空間裡不停游動，像極了我們被生活、責任、期望包圍的樣子，看似自由，實際上哪裡都去不了。整部動畫沒有講很多話，但情緒很重，讓人想到自己那些被壓力擠到快變形的時刻。可是作品也不是一味地悲觀，它其實在提醒我們：無論生活再怎麼讓人窒息，心裡一定還留著一塊沒有被磨掉的、最原本的自己。看完後，我會開始問自己：「我現在的生活，是我真正想要的嗎？」這部片像是一面鏡子，讓人重新看見自己的疲累，也看見自己其實還想要更自由、更真實地活著。
金魚原來也能變回原本的樣子，還真的馬上去查了，真的是人為干預下的結果，只要進入野外，原來的祖先型態就會現身了>< 畫面是被壓住的，色調像困住，就連夏天抽菸都美而憂傷，但水流動的時候，光出現的時候，那些困住的東西就鬆開了。 會突然想起： 其實你以前不是這樣的，你有某種原本的樣子，金魚可以變回去，是因為牠不是本來就長那樣的，牠是被人選出來、養出來、變成我們覺得「可愛」的樣子。 但只要離開了那些框架，牠是會慢慢變回去的 有時候我以為好說話的那個樣子是自己，但其實可能也只是被馴化後的版本而已QQ
黃曉傑、陳嘉言《夏夢迴》2023金馬獎最佳動畫短片。一部關於金魚的動畫，一則香港人的預言。香港人就是塑膠袋裡面的金魚，一袋袋掛在店門口展示、販售。儘管如此，仍然渴望著夏日陽光下的小河，一場毁壞一切的大洪水，或者至少奮力跳出水族箱的魚缸，而後在馬路上缺氧、乾枯而死。最近一個文學界的小事件，說香港年輕人被馴化。想想一堆台灣人被馴化，有的不自覺，有的心甘情願，不知為什麼台灣人可以理所當然地說香港人馴化。
No matter where you are, not just in Taiwan, international movie fans can easily watch too! The first wave of films from emerging creators are now live in our international section. Featuring top selections from prestigious film festivals like Golden Horse Awards and Golden Harvest Awards, as well as many highly anticipated emerging works for you to explore anytime, anywhere!
Giloo presents award-winning festival favorites, buzzworthy films, and thought-provoking documentaries, bringing together diverse themes and compelling stories. Step into the Spotlight Screening selection and discover films that have captured attention, sparked discussion, and are well worth revisiting.
Wherever you are, in Taiwan or abroad, you can watch with ease! Discover acclaimed films from the Cannes, Venice, and Golden Horse film festivals, plus a lineup of highly anticipated works from emerging filmmakers waiting for you to explore. Start watching anytime — no borders, no limits.
Summer arrives, the ghost gates open, and spirits stir restlessly. In this bewitching month, let our curated selection of fantastical animations guide you into the liminal spaces of the underworld. Is it monsters that truly scare us, or is the human more terrifying than any ghost? Let's keep watching to find out—
When the familiar surface of reality begins to crack, another set of rules governing time, space, and life quietly comes into motion. Through lines, textures, and sound, animation creates universes that have never existed, allowing unfamiliar creatures and strange landscapes to emerge from the imagination. As we pass through these cracks, we encounter not only other worlds, but also another side of reality yet to be discovered.
Before the day comes when reality and illusion tip out of balance, we swim within transparent bounds. Through the refraction of glass, we see only a warped reality—at times imagining ourselves the hand in control, yet in truth only the mouth awaiting its feed. In this vast fishbowl we call the world, bubbling away, who among us is any freer than the others? The moment the goldfish appears in the video： The Last Man on Earth（00:30） Monsoon Blue（00:36） Keep Out（00:14） Set Sail（01:07） Gold Fish（00:03）
Who says animation is only for kids? As we fall out of childhood and into adulthood, reality and imagination start weaving the world we live in—blurring, tangling, never quite clear. From the identity struggles of Hong Kong’s queer community, to the quiet battles of the working class, to the existential weight carried by city dwellers—these complex, three-dimensional selves are often flattened into frames we can’t say aloud or capture on film. And beyond each frame lies reality, projecting itself back at us—whispering softly, shouting underneath.
Once upon a time, there were stories in the landscapes. A mother’s quiet anxiety stretched across the winter plains of Inner Mongolia; a boy grew up in the windswept fishing villages of Taiwan; two scruffy children plotted their passage to adulthood in a withered cornfield; an artist-filmmaker captured the homesickness of the Burmese Chinese community on Huaxin Street, New Taipei; and a goldfish fable unfolded within the narrow, suffocating streets of Hong Kong. In these films, landscapes are more than mere cinematic settings; they are rich with symbolism and reflect the inner worlds of the characters.
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.
When dreams return in fragments, when memories slip away, when the past comes rushing in, when the storm circles back—take a few minutes, just drift for a few minutes. The everyday can transcend time and space; abstract animation and imagery capture colors we cannot speak aloud, like elephants hidden in a castle, a head holding onto its last strand of hair, someone lost in a midsummer dream, or a fierce cyclone swirling outside. We all need—and deserve—these few minutes.