The documentary seeks to use film as a medium to preserve and share the lives and legacies of prominent Chinese-language writers. Guided by each director’s unique cinematic language, these films transform literary masters into cinematic texts—introducing their voices to new generations of readers. The project goes beyond archival preservation. It aims to reveal how these authors and their works continue to move and inspire, carrying powerful resonance through the shifting tides of history—ultimately becoming a literary and cultural heritage for future generations.
Philosophers have long used ideas like yin and yang or lightness and weight to explain the makeup of the world. Here, I’d like to offer my own theory: the world is made up of big trees and little squirrels. The big tree stands silent, steadily pointing toward the sky. The squirrel darts between the branches—lively, charming, constantly complaining, and just a little annoying. As for me, I’m more like a complicated machine. Beyond the forces of family background and social conditioning, my free will flickers—barely there, yet stubbornly refusing to give in. Pulled in both directions, my mind constantly sways between the tree and the squirrel. That’s why I’m often drawn to films with depth and gravity—stories grounded in the weight of personal histories and quiet resilience. And especially when I come across characters who are even more chaotic squirrels than I am—that feeling of comfort? So real. So good