A filmmaker attempting a career reset following an ill-received feature of larger scope often offers a fascinating study in artistic rejuvenation, be it David Lynch’s Blue Velvet or M. Night Shyamalan’s The Visit. Following his lovely debut Columbus and strange, stirring sci-fi tale After Yang, Kogonada entered the big-budget filmmaking arena with A Big Bold Beautiful Journey, a misguided romantic fantasy that, despite having its heart in the right place, failed to connect with audiences and critics alike. In an attempt to create something more spontaneous and free from complex studio logistics, he ventured to Hong Kong with just a few of his closest collaborators to shoot a new film off the cuff and in secret. 

Not a return to form so much as a diversion into purely instinct-based experimentation, the resulting zi feels different from anything he’s made before, a free-flowing fount of passions and fears examining both the past slipping away and an uncertain future, while also doubling as a poetic city symphony. While not fully engaging on a narrative level, the project at least demonstrates Kogonada hasn’t lost his filmmaking mojo, crafting a movie that may seem more personal to him than most viewers.

Its rather shapeless story concerns Zi (Michelle Mao), a young woman roaming across the metropolis of Hong Kong while harboring both a mysterious guilt and premonitions that she might be diagnosed with a fatal tumor. She’s an accomplished violinist who may not be able to embark on an upcoming tour depending on the answer. She visits the graves of her parents, lamenting she’s starting to forget their faces, blaming herself for not looking at them more when they were still alive. Hitting a low point, she takes a break on concrete steps, consoling herself with her own tears. Sporting a wig that may make Wong Kar-wai proud, L (Haley Lu Richardson) happens upon Zi and instantly forms a connection as the two begin a venture. An old flame soon turns up in the form of Min (Jin Ha) and questions of unresolved romance and unusual bonds start to flourish.

What follows is a tale less concerned with narrative ambitions and more a rhythmic, sensory, non-linear experience; instinctively edited by Kogonada, it pulls together the images and sounds of a bustling city with a sense for pleasure. Music factors in the film’s most memorable sequences, whether it be Ryuichi Sakamoto’s tranquil piano, renditions of Alanis Morissette’s “Hand in My Pocket” and John Denver’s “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” or a perfectly framed scene of Zi displaying her violin prowess. Benjamin Loeb’s loose, grainy cinematography of a woman and cityscape in turmoil aids Kogonada’s small-scale aims of evoking a specific sense of feeling. This is not a film asking much from its actors, and the improvisational-ish nature of most sequences can make an opaque emotional experience for a viewer to parse. Yet there’s a certain beauty for how Kogonada has assembled disparate shots that will linger in one’s mind.

“This is why I love Hong Kong. City dancing with nature. The push and pull of it,” a character exclaims early in the film, with a hobby of recording sounds of the city brought up later. One gets the sense zi, with its barely-there script, functions as Kogonada’s personal travelogue more than a fully formed feature. One may say these qualities apply to his other work, but the methodical consideration of form present in at least his first two features does not apply here. If this spontaneous cinematic rendezvous is what the director needed to prove he still has the creative juices to get behind the camera and embark on another project, that’s a worthwhile enough reason to exist.

zi premiered at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival.

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