A hundred flowers bloom in Chinese cinema

Editor's Note: The Beijing Film Forum was organized by the China Film Association and the Beijing Federation of Literary and Art Circles on Aug 8 during the 38th Hundred Flowers Awards in Beijing. The forum brought together filmmakers, industry professionals and scholars to discuss the value, evolution and future of cinema. Below are reflections from four participants, as reported by Li Wei of China Daily.

Cinema shapes the way we feel

While a film's plot may quickly fade from our memory, certain moments linger forever — an evocative glance, a poignant dialogue or a solitary figure walking away can stay with us for years, sometimes returning unexpectedly when we encounter feelings we cannot quite name. In this sense, cinema does more than tell stories. It shapes how we feel and understand the world.

This process unfolds in three steps: seeing ourselves, feeling for others and becoming a "we".

First, cinema provides a language for feelings that are difficult to express. For example, the conversations, silences and companionship between the women characters in Her Story allow audiences to recognize the emotions from their own lives.

Similarly, Dear You, with its Chaoshan dialect and family histories that crossed the South China Sea, speaks of waiting, regret and longing that many families can understand.

The influence of cinema on an era's sensibility often begins with such moments of recognition.

Then cinema takes us beyond our own experience. Each of us can live only one life, but a film allows us to live a borrowed life.

In Big World, audiences follow a young man whose disability is just one aspect of his identity.

In Nobody, seemingly insignificant creatures struggle with frustration and unfulfilled hopes, mirroring the struggles that many adults recognize in themselves.

In Dead to Rights, history acquires human faces through the fears, hesitation and courage of ordinary people.

Empathizing with others does not necessarily mean agreeing with them. It is to pause before judging and try to understand the other person's perspective.

This is the essence of cinema's people-centered nature. "The people" are not an abstraction. They are individuals with names, faces, disappointments and dreams. The more unfamiliar lives an era is willing to understand, the wider its emotional world becomes.

The lives we borrow from movies

The world of films is vast enough to encompass grand historical stories and ordinary lives, tragedies and comedies, art films and blockbusters.

Some movies may fail at the box office only to be rediscovered years later, while others that once dominated public discussion might eventually disappear.

Time is an audience of its own, and sometimes the most patient one.

Cinema has the rare ability to blend reality and imagination. It can preserve the details of everyday life and capture the changes of an era, but can also transform reality into dreams, poetry and possibilities. A film can entertain one day and offer consolation or social reflection the next.

I realized this personally when I met a struggling entrepreneur who was inspired by American Dreams in China, a film I wrote.

I didn't reveal that I was its screenwriter, unsure if the film had helped or misled him. But the encounter made it clear that a film can change the way a person imagines his own future.

It can encourage someone who feels trapped to believe that another life is possible.

This is why I am optimistic about the future of cinema, even in the AI age. Technology will certainly change the tools, the processes and even the forms of cinema, but each step will also present new human choices, expressions and possibilities.

Cinema continues to change.

What doesn't is our need to see ourselves, understand others and imagine a life beyond the one we know.

That is why, after all these years, I still ask myself the same question: How could we not love cinema?

What should a film investor really invest in?

Technology, especially artificial intelligence, has made this more urgent. AI will change filmmaking, lowering production costs and giving more people access to sophisticated creative tools.

I see this as an opportunity rather than a threat. If technology makes filmmaking easier, the truly scarce resource will be the ability to produce something meaningful.

AI can expand imagination but cannot replace the human experiences that give stories emotional truth. The more technology changes the tools of filmmaking, the more important it becomes for filmmakers to say something distinctive.

A film's value should not be measured only by box office returns. Successful films can create new possibilities in tourism, cultural products, live experiences and other forms of consumption.

One creative work can generate value many times over, connecting the screen with the wider economy and with people's everyday lives.

This is why I remain optimistic about the future of cinema. Audiences are becoming more discerning, and different kinds of films find their own audiences. The market need not be a race where only the biggest thrive.

As a film investor, I seek stories with enduring power, not just the next hit. The most valuable film may not be today's top grosser, but the one people will still discuss tomorrow.

A filmmaker should never lose touch with the audience

Last summer, my film The Lychee Road was released in China. It tells the story of a Tang Dynasty (618-907) official tasked with delivering fresh Lingnan lychees to Chang'an, a journey that seems impossible because lychees spoil within days. The film offers a simple solution: keep the lychee on the branch.

I believe filmmakers have their own branch — the audience.

I did not come to filmmaking from a film school. With a degree in engineering management, I began my career making online videos, learning from viewer comments. If viewers said a joke did not work, I changed it. If they responded to an idea, I explored it further. This way, I learned a fundamental lesson: creators should first be viewers.

This is where the future of Chinese cinema lies. Films do not become meaningful because filmmakers make them or awards recognize them.

They become part of a culture when audiences respond, debate, remember and integrate them into their lives.

To stay fresh, filmmakers must stay connected with audiences.

Forgetting that we are audiences ourselves risks losing the very branch that sustains our work.

The views don't necessarily reflect those of China Daily.