Thirteen static shots tell a story of human communication.

September 24th, 2016, North Avenue Beach, Chicago. It was a sunny day. According to the weather report, the temperature was 75°F, with the barometer reading 30 inches high and the wind speed of 13 miles per hour. The time was 2:27 pm, I was standing by the Michigan Lake. In my hand there was a waterproof camera that weighs 2.6 ounces. I pressed the record button on the camera and threw it into the lake. The camera sank into the lake immediately and embarked on a mysterious journey. During the journey, it was elevated, pressed, panned, rotated, and spun by the water. The camera explored the space like a disembodied consciousness, and the moving image it captured was turned into an abstract painting improvised by Mother Nature. Eleven minutes later, the wave delivered the camera back onto the beach with one single long take. This eleven minutes long take later became Liquid Image.

Thirteen dinners of a Chinese migrant worker's family over the course of fourteen months. The film portrays a series of random occurrences. Joys, frustrations and the struggle for survival. The meals unfold in real-time through thirteen static, long takes. Each take captures with vivid detail the reality of the relationships between the different family members. As the seasons unfold, so does time and the echoes for better working conditions penetrate the frame. Issues such as the one-child-policy and the possibilities for better wages weigh heavily on the minds of the three-generation family.

Thirteen dinners of a Chinese migrant worker's family over the course of fourteen months. The film portrays a series of random occurrences. Joys, frustrations and the struggle for survival. The meals unfold in real-time through thirteen static, long takes. Each take captures with vivid detail the reality of the relationships between the different family members. As the seasons unfold, so does time and the echoes for better working conditions penetrate the frame. Issues such as the one-child-policy and the possibilities for better wages weigh heavily on the minds of the three-generation family.

Like many, throughout 2020 Chinese-born, US-based filmmaker Zhengfan Yang (Where Are You Going, IFFR 2016) looked closer at his immediate surroundings. From his apartment complex in Chicago, the filmmaker records ostensibly quotidian scenes: people walking, window cleaners, street sweepers; life viewed from inside a bubble.

Hong Kong as seen through a cab window. Inhabitants discuss their lives, problems and dreams as they are driven to their destination through the chaotic streets of Hong Kong.

The hotel room as a place where everyone is a stranger. A place that is yours for just a moment. A temporarily intimate space entered by a maid in order to clean it while, if possible, not leaving a trace of her visit. Each episode of Stranger is set in such a place, and each is captured in one long take. Weaving together a series of episodic stories – some humorous and absurd, some poignant and mysterious – that all unfold within a seemingly confined space, Stranger explores the idea of home while being away from it, and sheds light on the distinctive yet universal experiences of isolation and loneliness.

A blissful night is unexpectedly interrupted by a sound from downstairs. Different reactions are triggered as well as the relentless indifference.

A blissful night is unexpectedly interrupted by a sound from downstairs. Different reactions are triggered as well as the relentless indifference.

A blissful night is unexpectedly interrupted by a sound from downstairs. Different reactions are triggered as well as the relentless indifference.