

「越境身體」的五部影片藉由三種迥異有別的影像類型,輝映著某種足以僭越各種邊界甚至交互滲透的身體形態:一,紀實影片的蓄勢身體(《台北抽搐》、《神明事務所》、《默默行》);二,劇情影片的失能身體(《綠洲》);三,錄像藝術的重演身體(《女性的復仇》)。

The body is a vessel—its contents, unspeakable. Encased and bordered, the body is never entirely one’s own. It is governed—by nations, by societies, by ideologies. A body may be incomplete from birth. It may only reveal itself in a fleeting moment. It may only feel whole when it sings. Its darkness becomes whole when it finally takes revenge. Five distinct films illuminate the tension between the body's inner desires and outer image. In Oasis, a woman with cerebral palsy dances and sings with an Indian elephant—if only in a dream. In Silent Steps, Ah-Chung tosses aside his crutch, holding up an entire theater with just his hands. In Miracle, a spirit medium’s quivering, closed-eyed body breaks into another dimension. In TPE-Tics, Huang Da-Wang owns his body only while singing onstage. In The Women’s Revenge, a woman in an eye patch strikes back inside a slaughterhouse, leaving male bodies in blood and shreds. Silent or twitching, imprisoned or forbidden—only when the body crosses a border does it become truly, differently embodied.
“Unexpected Taiwanese Cinema” takes its title from a regular column by writer Zhang Yi-xuan, published in Fa: A Journal of Film Appreciation. Issue #190 of the magazine centers on films made with archival footage, opening a conversation on archival collage cinema. A special feature titled Private Films by Women explores how the idea that “the personal is political” is practiced through documentary. In her column of the same name, Zhang Yi-xuan also reflects on the film Looking for Chiang Ching-kuo, examining its unique place in the Taiwanese cinematic landscape—how it opens up the past instead of merely returning to it, and how such an approach keeps critical thinking through images alive. Both “archives” and “documentation” point us toward the past. But unless the past is re-examined and redefined, memory cannot truly exist. This collaborative program between Fa and Giloo invites viewers to engage with Taiwanese cinema that defies expectations—films that challenge, refract, and reimagine the nation's film history through both viewing and writing. Together, we hope to uncover new cinematic possibilities waiting within Taiwan’s ever-evolving image archive.

A sharp, compact poem often speaks louder than a lengthy speech! Giloo presents a curated collection of small but powerful documentaries—short films that, within a limited runtime, deliver layered, resonant stories. Experience the elegance of cinematic brevity, and see how precision in visual storytelling can leave a lasting impression.

During Taiwan’s Level 3 Alert, the idea of a “normal life” felt impossibly distant. While many responded with anxiety, fear, and blame, others quietly held onto their values and beliefs—trying to preserve what it means to be a “normal person.” This curated selection features five films from China, the United States, the former Soviet Union, Hong Kong, and Taiwan—each portraying a life caught between individual freedom and overwhelming systems: totalitarian regimes or capitalist monopolies. Some are artists, some are not. Some succeed, others don’t. Most drift through a world where “success” has no real meaning. And yet, despite immense, shadowy powers and marginal existences, it is the modest desire to live as a “normal person” that sustains our will to move forward. In the end, mutual understanding remains our greatest force of momentum.
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.
In Anton Chekhov’s The Seagull, dreams, work, and love intertwine. Life is a constant pursuit of purpose—despite the frustration, the failures, and the sense of helplessness that may await. Yet we keep struggling, relentlessly. Absurd? Perhaps. A comedy? Undeniably. And that, too, is life. The characters on stage may not be as mad as the world we live in, yet their stories mirror our own. In the illusion of theater, we often glimpse the truest reflections of ourselves