Mu xing zhi guang: A dusty, moody relic

Is it worth your time?

Look, Mu xing zhi guang is a bit of a weird bird. If you’re the kind of person who enjoys staring at grainy black-and-white frames and wondering why everyone looks so sad, you’ll dig it. If you’re looking for a thrill ride, stay away. It’s got a heavy, slow heartbeat.

The whole thing feels like a stage play that forgot to leave the theater. The lighting has this weird, flat quality, like they were afraid of shadows. Or maybe they just ran out of lamps.

Small things I noticed

• The lead actress, Yanyan Chen, has this one look she does when she’s listening to someone talk—like she’s trying to memorize a shopping list.
• There’s a scene near the middle involving a tea set that lasts way, way too long. I think I counted four separate pours.
• The background extras in the street scenes clearly had no idea where they were supposed to be walking. They just kind of drift in and out of frame like ghosts.

There’s this moment where Yan Jin is supposed to be having an emotional breakdown, but the camera just cuts to a very still, very boring shot of a plant in the corner. It’s deeply odd. It feels like the director just gave up on the drama and decided the houseplant was the real star.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Mu xing zhi guang (1933) through its definitive frames.

It definitely reminds me of the pacing in The Golden Cocoon, though that one had a bit more snap to the dialogue. This movie? It just kind of wanders around, checking its watch, waiting for the end credits to roll.

Also, the sound design is… well, it’s mostly just hiss. You really have to lean in to catch half the lines. My ears are still tired from trying to filter out the static.

Is it a masterpiece? No. Is it a disaster? Also no. It’s just a film that exists, occupying space, being polite, and occasionally boring the living daylights out of you. Sometimes that’s exactly what you need on a rainy Tuesday, right? 🌧️