An Endurance Test or Boundary-Defying Cinema? Unpacking Bi Gan’s Resurrection
Introduction
It’s brutally unfair that Thierry Frémaux chose to screen Resurrection on day ten of the Cannes Film Festival. At this point, we analysts are clinging to our critical wits by a thread. To describe this film as impenetrable is a monumental understatement. It seems as if Bi Gan’s fourth film purposefully aims to confound our cinematic understanding, leaving us mired in a swamp of incomprehension and doubt.
The Opening: Playful Yet Misleading
The film begins with a deceptive charm, steeped in flamboyant silent cinema techniques. The dramatic piano chords and sepia-toned title cards, bursting with exclamations, evoke a Guy Maddin-esque nostalgia. Here, we enter a world where no one dreams anymore, except for the fantomes—creatures tethered to our forgotten pasts.
One woman, driven by curiosity, embarks on a quest to resurrect a fantome, seemingly in a bid to bridge the chasm between dreams and reality. The concept itself is intriguing; perhaps we should all try a fantastical chase at least once, right?
The Monster’s Introduction: A Bizarre Encounter
The creature, a peculiar cross between Nosferatu and Uncle Fester, first emerges at an opium bar with a tray of poppies. The woman, armed with her own distorted sense of beauty, compels him to confront his ugliness, forcing him to gaze into the mirror of her eye. It’s a daring act of vulnerability that sends him fleeing into shadows, ramping up the atmospheric drama reminiscent of German Expressionism.
What unfolds next is an encounter that transforms the narrative into film noir, where the monster faces unjust blame for a vicious act of self-defense. Here, plot intricacies begin to splinter, and the critical threads that might anchor us dissolve into confusion.
The Narrative Web: A Complex Tapestry
Gan skillfully intertwines various storytelling formats reminiscent of Mark Cousins’ The Story of Film and Jean-Luc Godard’s Histoire Du Cinema, yet without the comfort of narration. This absence leaves us untethered, pushing boundaries instead of providing a straightforward cinematic voyage.
Before we grasp the dynamics of the conflict, we are thrust into a scene featuring two men laboriously discussing a tooth that supposedly harbors the spirit of the other. As the viewer, you have to wonder: What does this mean? Where does this fit into the larger narrative?
Navigating Chaos: Intent vs. Oversight
The arcs within each micro-story prompt questions about whether their complexities are intentional or shortcomings. Bi Gan may indeed be challenging us to confront our desire to emotionally connect with characters—yet without identifiable intention, the act of criticism becomes a paradox.
As we spiral deeper into the narrative, we are whisked away to a neon-lit vampire tale, surrounded by characters that feel simultaneously familiar and alien. The camera’s intimacy raises a critical question: Are we supposed to recognize these figures from alternate timelines?
The Constant of Violence and Dissonance
Violence looms large throughout Resurrection. It is an ever-present theme, punctuated by smoke, rain, and unresolved narratives. As viewers, we instinctively seek order within this chaos, yet Gan seems determined to dismantle our instincts, leaving us with a cinematic experience that defies comfort.
Is this an exploration of a world stripped of dreams? Was this Bi Gan’s overarching point? As our minds whirl in search of coherence, one can’t help but ponder: Is this a groundbreaking, experimental film or merely a test of endurance? Could it be both?
Conclusion
Resurrection may walk a tenuous line between brilliance and bewilderment, sparking debate about the nature of cinema itself. Regardless of where you stand, one thing is clear: Gan’s work challenges the conventional cinematic experience, beckoning viewers to question not only what they see but why they seek to understand it.
As we step out of the theater, engulfed in thoughts and confusion, the film leaves us with lingering queries—a hallmark of art that truly tests our engagement.
Grade: C+
Resurrection premiered at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival and is currently seeking U.S. distribution. For more intriguing insights and reviews, explore IndieWire’s film reviews.
