‘Resurrection’ Review: Let Bi Gans Be Bi Gans [A] Cannes

Following the unexpected successes, both critical and commercial (in its native China at least), of 2018’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night, Bi Gan returns with an even more spectacular and artistically ambitious epic, Resurrection, which also marks his first time in the Cannes Film Festival main competition. It’s no doubt the most challenging entry on the Croisette this year – the first 20 minutes or so are entirely devoid of spoken dialogue – yet brave souls who stick it out will eventually discover its internal logic and be richly rewarded.  

The film is actually about us, the cinephiles, who live through many incarnations over the course of our viewing histories; but naturally Bi doesn’t relay our journey in an orthodox way. Fantasmer (pop idol Jackson Yee from Oscar-nominated Better Days) is our surrogate, whom we meet first as a monstrous creature from Silent Era horror (and by that we don’t mean the A Quiet Place franchise), who is, as told through the intertitles, obsessed with illusions.  

Bi and co-writer Zhai Xiaohui split the narrative into five sections (as opposed to Long Day’s Journey Into Night’s two), each a set piece representing a unique period genre in theme, storytelling, performance, and aesthetics. As you’ve figured, we’re in the Nosferatu (Murnau – not Herzog and most definitely not Eggers) age. Though presented in color, Bi otherwise hews to all the hallmarks: Academy ratio, intertitles (in English, not Chinese – go figure), stop-motion, fog machines, Liu Qiang and Tu Nan’s stage-like sets, etc. The Big Other (Shu Qi from The Transporter and, yes, all those Hou Hsiao-hsien films) apparently has the unusual ability to perceive Fantasmer’s visions, and literally carves his back open to find he has a projector’s spool and motor for internal organs. 

German Expressionism is up next – think Fritz Lang. We’re in Scope now and characters have finally broken their silence after a few walkouts. Against this steampunk backdrop is a murder mystery; a detective complete with fedora and trench coat investigates the demise of a theremin player who is allegedly a Japanese spy. Liu and Tu’s grand designs are even more eye-popping here, especially inside the train station with a roof of broken glass panels. 

Following is a simple Buddhist parable, in which the Spirit of Bitterness (Chen Youngzhong) is unleashed in human form as the Fantasmer in this life copes with a toothache while inside a deserted temple in a snowstorm. It’s about stones, a moss-covered pond, and . . . destiny? 

Then we’re in the Fifth Generation, marked by filmmakers like Zhang Yimou. We get the first ray of sunshine within the context of the film, and Song Jingsong’s cinematography here glows with a warm golden hue. It’s about a swindler taking under his wing a girl (Guo Mucheng) abandoned by her debt-ridden dad, and teaching her card tricks. They successfully scam a wealthy old man (Zhang Zhijian), not knowing he actually has plans for them to help solve a puzzle.  

For those who are still with it despite not knowing where it’s taking us, we’ve finally arrived at the Bi phase: a Y2K vampire tale told through one continuous shot, now in Golden ratio, from a Gaspar Noé-esque red-lit night all the way to daybreak, as ill-fated lovers run the gauntlet through rain-soaked back alleys to a brothel, a 24/7 record store, a seedy karaoke joint, and ultimately the shore for their getaway. The girl (Li Gengxi) calls herself Tai Zhaomei, after a 1980s Taiwanese folk singer – potentially a symbol or an in-joke, I can’t tell which. There’s also the sight gag of an Interview With the Vampire (1994) movie poster spotted on the street.  

This pièce de résistance long night’s journey into day is obviously a logistic and technical feat that requires meticulous planning, blocking, and timing of all the fireworks, stunt work, practical effects, et al. But most impressive is the P.O.V. shifts in the middle of all this. Yeah, it’s as gimmicky as that 3D one-take from Long Day’s Journey Into Night, but it’s freaking awesome and has to be seen to be believed. 

Though the chapters are seemingly unconnected, Bi and Yee sustain confidently and assuredly throughout. In theory, Resurrection is not unlike Wong Kar-wai’s 2046 (2004), only that Bi’s vision is so grand, so bold and so off-the-charts bonkers that no one will ever mistakenly conflate the two. I get that this is not everyone’s cup of tea, but here’s hoping Resurrection will find the audience it richly deserves. 

Grade: A

This review is from the 2025 Cannes Film Festival where Resurrection premiered In Competition.