Hennymahamo

Yang Shi-Nan is a 14-year-old boy who undergoes a metamorphosis without realising what is going on. It begins on a normal school day when he gets stomach cramps. After rushing to the toilet he notices that his urine is turning bloody red. Taken to a doctor he is diagnosed with “Disorders of Sex Development,” or intersex. Without consulting him, Shi-Nan’s parents decide to accept “sex reassignment surgery”, turning Shi-Nan into a female and changing her name to YANG Shi-Lan. The family moves to a new city to start a new life and it all seems to be going well as Shi-Lan blends in and even makes friends. It seems like the butterfly is about to break out of its chrysalis but can Yang Shi-Lan truly embrace her transformation?

Two years post heart transplant, Ah Xun remains unable to shake off the gloom cast over his renewed life. First, there is a house fire; then, an unprecedented pandemic breaks out. Retreating to his grandfather’s home, Ah Xun finds himself persistently haunted by a string of unfortunate events. He is faced with an ex lover’s return, an encounter with the mixed-race sibling neighbours, the harrowing news of his mother’s cancer, his sister’s nervous breakdown, a friend’s drug issues, and now, the news of his grandfather testing positive for the new disease.

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In Minnan, pineapple rhymes with ‘luck’ and is an auspicious symbol. Carrying a pineapple with him, a young man travels with his mentally handicapped younger brother from their hometown in the provinces to Taipei, where a relative works in a factory. There the brothers witness a scene of labour dispute. Will the pineapple bring them luck after all? After scripting Love Is a Gun (2023), winner of the Lion of the Future award at the Venice International Film Festival 2023, LIN Cheng-hsun presents this new short, a dramatisation of brotherly affection, through a sophisticated command of cinematic and narrative devices.

In a candlelit room, time stands still, faces glow with joy tinged by melancholy. In the blue haze of youth, love and regret entwine. As the fire fades, so does clarity... What remains of us when memory blurs into longing?