Blue Sun Palace

Tsang deepens the themes of her movie in unhurried doses, bringing to the surface the loneliness, isolation, and displacement of the remaining characters.

Instead of leaning into trauma or misery, the filmmaker gives us complex characters who nonetheless speak very little — everything happens in their expressions, the quick flash of a twitch across a cheek when the other isn’t looking.

[A] resolutely humane but fiercely unsentimental film.

Tsang chooses to forgo much attention to plot or character development, instead prioritizing mood, choosing to harness grief in its pure form.

Blue Sun Palace’s tale is filled with quiet spaces, and the way the texture of this quiet changes over the course of the film is a testament to its power.

“Palace” prioritizes mood over plot. Tsang allows her experienced actors plenty of breathing space to convey the melancholy of their existence in situations where dreams are more likely to be deferred than to come true.

Tsang’s approach is patient but not withholding, like a documentarian focused on the gradual accumulation of everyday details and what they reveal about the lives of her characters.

Blue Sun Palace is a deliberately paced drama which, while reflective of the difficulties grief can bring, also displays life's complicated layers.

This is ultimately about longing, loneliness, grief, and finding a place in a challenging environment. It is indeed also about the need to feel, yes touch, but not in obvious ways we might expect.

All the essential questions raised throughout revolve around the film’s form: the attractions of cinema here well and truly usurped any (emotional) attachment to cinema.