written by: Bi Gan
produced by: Shan Zuolong, Yang Lele, and Charles Gillibert
directed by: Bi Gan
rated: not rated
runtime: 156 min.
U.S. release date: December 12, 2025

I’ve now seen two of Bi Gan’s films, and each time I wind up feeling perplexed, confused, and impressed. There’s nothing wrong with that. Art can be challenging. The Chinese writer/director’s last film was 2018’s “Long Day’s Journey into Night”, which was not an adaptation of Eugene O’Neill’s play but rather a haunting noir known for its final 59 minutes, which consists of one long take in 3D. It premiered at that year’s Cannes Film Festival, and his latest and third feature, “Resurrection”, an epic science fiction drama, also premiered at last year’s Cannes. Both films are studies in sensory with a focus on visuals over discernible narrative, offering a kind of dream logic.

Story concepts are present here, but they are mere palettes for Gan the artist. “Resurrection” consists of six chapters, each related to one of the six senses (as recognized by Buddhists): sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and mind. The entirety is a dreamy, ephemeral endurance test worth taking, as long as one isn’t bewildered. In fact, watching “Resurrection” might require taking some gummies beforehand.

The film opens with a setup told in silent-era title cards that states in some near-future or alternate reality, humanity has given up on dreams in exchange for immortality. Yet a minority of mankind isn’t going along with this anti-dreaming decree, choosing instead to continue to revel in imagination and fantasies, even though this significantly shortens their lifespans. Another title card compares people who don’t dream to “candles that do not burn” (which makes sense, since the flame is the dream, and dreams definitely flicker and fade, and eventually flame out). It’s a metaphor that Bi will return to throughout each chapter of “Resurrection.

The beings who continue to dream are inhuman-looking fantomes called “Deliriants”, who have no concept of time thanks to their constant dream state. They are outcasts sought out by “Other Ones”, and when we meet one particular Deliriant (played by Chinese popstar and actor Jackson Yee) in Chapter 1, a woman known as Miss Shu (Shu Qi) finds him in an opium den. She takes an interest in him and actually enters his consciousness using her ability to perceive illusions. That is, after she has him look at his reflection to see his hideous appearance. She eventually tries to help the poor creature and winds up looking into his heart, where she finds what appears to be an old projector. To ease the creature, Miss Shu inserts 35mm film into him, designed to comfort and lull him into a peaceful state.

The mood and visuals of this portion of the film evoke German Expressionist motifs, with sharp angles, shadows, and smoke. It’s a fascinating and curious opening that asks viewers to calibrate their hearts and minds.

From there, “Resurrection” transitions into what resembles a mid-20th-century film noir, and the creature is now a handsome young man named Qui Moyun (also played by Yee), who is surprised to find significant scratch marks across his torso. Qui has been accused of killing a man with a fountain pen and stealing a mysterious briefcase with special content. He is pursued by The Commander (Mark Chao), a detective who tortures Qui into revealing the suitcase’s location. There is a pursuit in a mirror shop (this segment also includes smoke and blue-tinged images with plenty of rain), and we eventually realize the suitcase isn’t just a suitcase. Reflections are shattered, and somehow Bach’s “Come, Sweet Death” is included, with perhaps a rewrite, and this vignette concludes with an ear-stabbing and a train ride that ends in flames. At this point, it’s clear we’re not meant to truly understand what’s happening, which will certainly confound some viewers.

The following story jumps 30 years, to a time when the Deliriant is now an art thief named Mongrel (yet again played by Yee), living in a Buddhist temple ruin and nursing a rotted tooth. He uses shrapnel to extract the tooth and is surprised that he has released the Spirit of Bitterness (Chen Yongzhong), which was nestled inside his tooth. The Spirit takes the form of Mongrel’s father, whom he had killed. The two antagonize each other’s relationship until they both perform a Buddhist ritual, which transforms the Spirit and transforms the Mongrel into a dog. This segment is akin to a fable that seems meant to convey some greater meaning, but whatever that may be is a real head-scratcher.

A couple of decades later, the Deliriant becomes Jia (Yee again), a con-artist who takes an orphan girl (Guo Mucheng) under his wing a la “Paper Moon” – abandoned by her father, who left a banknote with a mysterious riddle. As part of their routine, Jia teaches the girl a card trick in which she supposedly can identify a card by smell. This trick helps the two swindle a mob boss, and before Jia can tell the girl the answer to the riddle (there seems to be riddles in each of these segments), he is robbed and stabbed to death. The girl eventually deciphers the riddle for the mob boss using her sense of smell.

Fast-forward to a port city in New Year’s Eve 1999, when the Deliriant is now Apollo (that’s right, Yee) a young hoodlum who becomes smitten with a young singer named Tai Zhaomei (Li Gengxi). He claims he’s never kissed anyone, and she states she’s never bitten anyone. Wait, what? Yeah, you can imagine where this is going. When the two are separated, Tai is brought back to her boss, Mr. Luo (Huang Jue, “Long Days Journey into Night”), at a karaoke bar. Apollo breaks into the bar in an attempt to rescue Tai, but Luo’s henchmen severely beat him. As the couple sails away on a boat, Tai reveals that she is a vampire. They two embrace and kiss (a bloody one at that) as the sun rises over the water.

As “Resurrection” closes out, Miss Shu returns to collect the now deceased Deliriant. She dresses him in his monster skin, which includes a full custom mask and disfigured hand gloves, and she attempts to communicate with him using film reels. Gan’s ending is just as much of an enigma as his beginning. It’s not like we ever got to know much about who these characters are or why they do what they do, nor do we spend that much time with them.

In all of these chapters, the meaning of the title is confirmed. Actors are playing multiple characters, and it has nothing to do with a limited budget. It’s more of a study of one’s individuality and possibly what exactly is individualism, and who it matters to. Beyond including particular senses in each, there’s a repeated inclusion of: reflections, fire, candles (or wax), and the impact of time. While the way in which Gan approaches each story is impressive, especially his inclusion of a long one-take sequence in one of the latter chapters, you’d be hard-pressed to find any real heart and soul in these stories.

“Resurrection” consists of playful, peculiar, and often melancholy tales that merge dreams and 20th-century cinema. It works on a purely sonic and visual level, leaving its characters and storylines perhaps too open to interpretation.

RATING: **1/2