Resurrection is Beautiful, Baffling, and Brutally Slow

By Staff Writer Leland Yu

Known for his surreal, dreamlike films that prioritize mood and imagination over conventional storytelling, Director Bi Gan continues that approach with Resurrection. Moving beyond the rural, fog-shrouded landscapes of his previous works like Kaili Blues, Gan’s new project ventures into the realm of science fiction while maintaining his signature poetic style and exploration of time and memory. 

Released in the U.S. on December 12, 2025, the film follows a world where humanity has traded the ability to dream with immortality. Starring Shu Qi and Jackson Yee, the film immerses viewers in a hypnotic, nightmarish world that can either be transfixing or perplexing, depending on the viewer. An outcast (Jackson Yee) navigates a world of illusions and visions as he drifts in between memories and reimagined realities, exploring the themes of desire and mortality, mortality, and resilience. With cinematography by Jingsong Dong and a haunting score by M83, Gan crafts a film that is visually striking and conceptually ambitious, yet often prioritizing atmosphere over clarity, leaving its themes and ideas underdeveloped and its narrative difficult to grasp.

Rather than relying on a fast-paced plot or humorous mood, Resurrection builds its experience through its surreal atmosphere, symbolism, and slow, deliberate storytelling. There was not a single moment of lighthearted atmosphere. In fact, not a single smile was seen throughout the entire two hours and forty minutes. The lack of teeth flattened the atmosphere from scene to scene, feeling monotonous throughout the entire film. Though each chapter layers dreamlike imagery and fragmented moments that slowly build up the story’s themes, it’s often without a clear narrative direction. While this approach reinforces Gan’s poetic vision, it also demands a lot of patience from viewers. Instead of feeling guided through the story with a clear and structured plot, the audience is left to navigate and interpret the film’s abstract structure by themselves, which can make the viewers immersed in the sense of being willing to piece the intellectual puzzle together or immersed in bewilderment. And while this ambiguity seems intentional, the film often crosses the line from thoughtful complexity into genuine confusion. 

Still, despite the  film’s abstract directorial approach, the acting is a major strength for Resurrection. Yee delivers a compelling performance, making his outcast character intriguing, even with the film’s abstract nature. His portrayal of the different chapters, each focusing on a human sense, is spot on, his performances changing with every character and chapter. Instead of using heavy dialogue, the film communicates through silence and presence of characters, though that same silence may sometimes cause the viewers to be silent from sleep. Especially with Jingsong’s cinematography, the film focuses on long takes, dim lighting, and drifting camera movements to mirror the film’s feeling of disorientation. 

 Resurrection is not a film that allows viewers to simply plop down on their couch with a bowl of popcorn and scroll through their phone, while expecting to understand the whole plot. It resists easy interpretation, fully committing to Gan’s reputation of creating films that require a massive amount of brain cells to understand. Even though the film demands much patience and active engagement, those willing to surrender the feeling of watching a movie for relaxation may find a quite enjoyable time analyzing the thought-provoking film. Ultimately, Resurrection is less of a traditional sci-fi film, but rather a slow, atmospheric exploration of memory, desire, and mortality, lingering until the very last frame fades to black.

Grade: C+