In the summer of 2025, Edward Yang's masterpiece 'Yi Yi' returns to the big screen in a 4K restoration, which is not only a technical sublimation of a film but also a gentle retrospect of time. Twenty-five years after its release in 2000, this posthumous work, like a dust-covered painting, has been delicately restored by digital hands, reappearing on the big screen. Nearly two decades after Yang's passing, his images linger like ghosts in contemporary cinema, reminding us that life is an endless 'Yi Yi', from birth to death, from joy to sorrow, in an endless cycle. In this digital age, the re-release of 'Yi Yi' is not just a nostalgic call but also a profound questioning of the urban soul today.

The film revolves around a middle-class family of three generations in Taipei, unfolding a delicate life picture. Father NJ (played by Wu Nien-jen) is a software engineer, his wife Min-min (played by Elaine Jin) is a housewife, their teenage daughter Ting-ting (played by Kelly Lee), and their young son Yang-yang (played by Jonathan Chang) captures the innocence of the world from a child's perspective. The story begins with a wedding but takes a turn with the grandmother's stroke and coma, triggering inner storms for each family member. Yang does not rush to lay out dramatic conflicts but, like a silent observer, lets the camera flow slowly, capturing the fragments and absurdities of daily life. The joy of the wedding and the silence of the hospital intertwine, the sweetness of love and the pain of betrayal coexist, all of which seem to be a microcosm of urban life in Taipei: skyscrapers stand tall, yet they cannot hide the loneliness of the human heart.

Yang's literary style reaches its peak in 'Yi Yi'. He excels in using long shots, like unblinking eyes, gazing at the characters' inner struggles. For example, in the scene where NJ reunites with his old love in Tokyo, the camera quietly captures the neon lights of the rainy night and the turmoil within, saying more than words could about the regret of 'what if'. The music design is minimalist yet precise, with Peng Kai-li's score like a gentle breeze, and the occasional piano notes sketching the rhythm of life. Yang-yang's camera becomes the film's metaphor, as he always films the back of people's heads, saying, 'Dad, I can only see half of the world.' This childlike remark reveals the film's core theme: we can never see the whole of life, but in trying to piece it together, we comprehend the absurdity and beauty of existence. Yang critiques the alienation of modern society, where family members are isolated, communication becomes a formality, yet in crisis, they seek the possibility of rebirth.

The advent of the 4K restoration breathes new life into the film. The original film stock was digitally scanned, enhancing the image quality to unprecedented clarity, with each frame as transparent as crystal. The streets of Taipei, the details of the apartment, the wrinkles and tears on the characters' faces are all magnified, enhancing the audience's immersion. Especially in night scenes, the reflections of neon lights and the refraction of rainwater add rich layers, as if pulling the audience back to Taipei at the turn of the millennium. The restoration is not just a technical upgrade but also a tribute to Yang's visual aesthetics. His shots often capture characters through glass windows or reflective surfaces, symbolizing the alienation and introspection of urbanites; in the 4K version, this reflective effect is more three-dimensional, allowing the audience to feel the layered psychological depth. Compared to the original, this re-release is like a visual feast, allowing a new generation of film fans to rediscover this masterpiece hailed by the BBC as 'one of the greatest films of the 21st century'.

The actors' performances are another highlight of 'Yi Yi'. Wu Nien-jen's portrayal of NJ is gentle yet stormy inside, his drifting eyes conveying the powerlessness and quest of a middle-aged man. Elaine Jin's Min-min is a suppressed volcano, erupting at the grandmother's bedside, releasing long-accumulated exhaustion and awakening. Young actor Jonathan Chang's natural performance is the icing on the cake, his innocent perspective like a clear stream, washing away the hypocrisy of adults. Yang's casting is always precise, not seeking star power but letting actors blend into their roles, achieving the pinnacle of this realist film.

The re-release of 'Yi Yi' in today's fast-paced film industry is like a dose of sobering agent. It reminds us that cinema is not just entertainment but a mirror of life. Yang once said, 'Film is to let us see what we cannot see.' On the screen of the 4K restoration, we see not just the ukiyo-e of Taipei but the trajectory of our own lives. Whether it's the first viewing or a revisit, this three-hour film is worth going to the cinema to experience quietly. The 'Yi Yi' of life, from a wedding to a funeral, from a family to the whole society, Yang depicts the eternal cycle with a gentle touch. In 2025, this film remains vibrant, inviting us to gaze together at the unseen half of the world.

In the summer of 2025, Edward Yang's masterpiece 'Yi Yi' returns to the big screen in a 4K restoration, which is not only a technical sublimation of a film but also a gentle retrospect of time. Twenty-five years after its release in 2000, this posthumous work is like a dust-covered painting, delicately restored by digital hands to reappear on the big screen. Nearly two decades after Yang's passing, his images linger like ghosts in contemporary cinema, reminding us that life is an endless 'Yi Yi', from birth to death, from joy to sorrow, in an endless cycle. In this digital age, the re-release of 'Yi Yi' is not just a nostalgic call but also a profound inquiry into the soul of the contemporary urban life.

The film revolves around a middle-class family of three generations in Taipei, unfolding a delicate life picture. Father NJ (played by Wu Nien-jen) is a software engineer, his wife Min-min (played by Elaine Jin) is a housewife, their teenage daughter Ting-ting (played by Kelly Lee), and their young son Yang-yang (played by Jonathan Chang) captures the innocence of the world from a child's perspective. The story begins with a wedding but takes a turn with the grandmother's stroke-induced coma, triggering inner storms among family members. Yang does not rush to lay out dramatic conflicts but, like a silent observer, lets the camera flow slowly, capturing the fragments and absurdities of daily life. The joy of the wedding and the silence of the hospital intertwine, the sweetness of love and the pain of betrayal coexist, all of which seem to be a microcosm of urban life in Taipei: skyscrapers stand tall, yet they cannot hide the loneliness of the human heart.

Yang's literary style reaches its peak in 'Yi Yi'. He excels in using long shots, like unblinking eyes, gazing at the characters' inner struggles. For example, in the scene where NJ reunites with his old love in Tokyo, the camera quietly captures the neon lights of the rainy night and the turmoil within, saying more than words could about the regret of 'what if'. The music design is minimalist yet precise, with Peng Kai-li's score like a gentle breeze, and the occasional piano notes sketching the rhythm of life. Yang-yang's camera becomes the film's metaphor, as he always films the back of people's heads, saying, 'Dad, I can only see half of the world.' This childlike remark reveals the film's core theme: we can never see the whole of life, but in trying to piece it together, we comprehend the absurdity and beauty of existence. Yang critiques the alienation of modern society, where family members are isolated, communication becomes a formality, yet in crisis, they seek the possibility of rebirth.

The release of the 4K restoration breathes new life into the film. The original film stock was digitally scanned, enhancing the image quality to unprecedented clarity, with each frame as transparent as crystal. The streets of Taipei, the details of the apartment, the wrinkles and tears on the characters' faces are all magnified, enhancing the audience's immersion. Especially in night scenes, the reflection of neon lights and the refraction of rainwater add rich layers, as if pulling the audience back to Taipei at the turn of the millennium. The restoration is not just a technical upgrade but also a tribute to Yang's visual aesthetics. His shots often capture characters through glass windows or reflective surfaces, symbolizing the alienation and introspection of urbanites; in the 4K version, this reflective effect is more three-dimensional, allowing the audience to feel the layered psychological depth. Compared to the original, this re-release is like a visual feast, allowing a new generation of film fans to rediscover this masterpiece hailed by the BBC as 'one of the greatest films of the 21st century'.

The actors' performances are another highlight of 'Yi Yi'. Wu Nien-jen's portrayal of NJ is gentle yet stormy inside, his wandering eyes conveying the powerlessness and quest of a middle-aged man. Elaine Jin's Min-min is a suppressed volcano, erupting at the grandmother's bedside, releasing long-accumulated exhaustion and awakening. Young actor Jonathan Chang's natural performance is the finishing touch, his innocent perspective like a clear stream, washing away the hypocrisy of adults. Yang's casting is always precise, not seeking star power but letting actors blend into their roles, achieving the pinnacle of this realism.

The re-release of 'Yi Yi' in today's fast-paced film industry is like a dose of sobering agent. It reminds us that cinema is not just entertainment but a mirror of life. Yang once said, 'Film is to let us see what we cannot see.' On the screen of the 4K restoration, we see not just the ukiyo-e of Taipei but the trajectory of our own lives. Whether it's the first viewing or a revisit, this three-hour film is worth going to the cinema to experience quietly. The 'Yi Yi' of life, from a wedding to a funeral, from a family to the whole society, Yang depicts the eternal cycle with a gentle touch. In 2025, this film remains vibrant, inviting us to gaze together at the unseen other half of the world.