By Yun-hua Chen.
During the pandemic, Li Haihai and I discovered a shared fascination with portraying a female figure navigating life inside and outside of marriage.”
Beibei—a daughter, a wife, a mother—finds herself at a crossroads when she loses her steady job and faces the uncertainties of the pandemic. In her daily life, she challenges these predefined roles, defies their constraints, and seeks something for herself. She meets lovers, breaks up with them, buys an apartment in her mother’s hometown in the south, and borrows money for the down payment. As she speaks directly to the camera, allowing it into her most intimate spaces, the boundaries between Beibei as a real woman and Beibei as a film character blur. Is this docufiction, documentary-styled fiction, fictionalized documentary, or mockumentary?
Alan Zhang’s film not only crosses multiple boundaries but also raises profound questions about where these boundaries lie. Unflinching, feminist, and deeply humane, Zhang discusses her impressive debut feature about a woman who insists on defining her own life in a society that continually seeks to define it for her.
The film’s initial concept was developed during the pandemic in collaboration with co-writer and lead actress Li Haihai. How did your discussions gradually shape the film’s vision? Did the restrictions during the pandemic influence your thinking about the film?
In the first year of the pandemic, I moved from Beijing to Hebei, near the Beijing-Hebei border. There, I reconnected with friends I had known for years, including Li Haihai, the lead actress and co-writer of This Woman. She had always worked in the film industry and harbored a deep passion for filmmaking.
By the second year of the pandemic, I found myself in a state of both physical and mental confinement due to factors like childbirth, the pandemic, and geographical limitations. I also experienced significant creative anxiety. During this period, Li Haihai and I had frequent discussions covering a wide range of topics: our current lives, future possibilities, whether we could make a film, and if so, what kind of film. We were particularly interested in themes like the condition of women within marriage, parent-child relationships, and intimate partnerships.
Through these conversations, we discovered a shared fascination with portraying a female figure navigating life inside and outside of marriage. We were motivated by this idea and trusted each other deeply. She believed in my creative abilities and my camera, and I trusted that she would shine in front of it. Based on our initial discussions, we drafted an outline with the help of our producer Liao Yong and literary consultant Man Ning, gradually shaping the shooting structure and the film that audiences see today.
The pandemic serves as a historical backdrop in the film. As for the lockdown measures, they didn’t directly hinder us. Our shooting process was agile and flexible, with a very small crew—often just the lead actress and me. Even in public spaces, including checkpoints heading toward the capital, I was able to quickly capture the footage I needed.
This Woman blurs many boundaries: documentary and fiction, reality and artifice, character and real life. Toward the end, Beibei has an intriguing monologue about what’s real and what’s not. What are your thoughts on documentary, docudrama, and mockumentary as forms? What inspired you to adopt this style, and how did it shape your narrative approach?
I personally prefer imagery that is simple, authentic, and natural in texture. Producing and completing a documentary is not easy, especially when it’s character-driven. It requires the director and the lead cinematographer to have a clear understanding of the subjects, the environment, and the narrative focus. They must be able to respond flexibly, swiftly, and accurately in various situations—whether unpredictable, private, or public—making decisive choices with a consistent visual aesthetic. Only then can a documentary meet the basic standard of quality.
Having been the subject of documentaries myself, I often feel a sense of regret on behalf of documentary filmmakers—remarkable moments frequently go uncaptured. Docudramas or documentary-style fiction films help to fill this gap because the narrative structure is determined by the creators. You film what you need, when you need it. This is the key difference between a film with fictional narratives and a pure documentary. As for mockumentaries, they are essentially fiction films presented in a documentary style—the difference lies only in the form of expression.
When we decided on a docudrama approach for This Woman, it was partly an aesthetic choice because this style suited the film. It also helped us save costs while allowing for quick and flexible production. Among many considerations, we found a mode of expression that worked best for us.
Throughout your artistic career, you’ve explored themes like identity, motherhood, and gender roles. How does This Woman expand or challenge your previous work in terms of feminist activism and visual storytelling? How do you see film within your broader artistic practice?
Film is a universal medium that transcends time and space. It allows for the integration of multiple art forms—language, character development, storytelling, performance, direction, cinematography, editing, and production design—all woven together to convey the creator’s ideas, messages, and aesthetic vision.
Because it’s such a comprehensive art form, it also demands more from its creators. It’s hard to excel in every aspect. As a newcomer to filmmaking, I’m still learning. Compared to painting or writing, film is far more challenging for me.
Blending fact and fiction, this isn’t an easy film to edit. Can you talk about the editing process? How did you find the balance between reality and performance, and between different timelines and spaces?
Because we had a clear outline and shot mostly according to plan, the editing process went smoothly overall. After the initial sequential cut, I felt the narrative flow was somewhat flat. On a recommendation, we brought in editor Zhang Zhongchen, who has worked on over a dozen feature films and has extensive experience.
With his fresh perspective, we restructured the film’s timeline and adjusted some details. These changes significantly improved the film.
The film reveals the complexities of contemporary Chinese womanhood—defying traditional gender roles while still navigating within them. There’s an effort to redefine norms, reflect on generational differences, and challenge ingrained thinking. Starting with Beibei’s journey, can you talk about the struggles and courage of modern Chinese women?
We are a generation caught in the cracks, swept up in the tides of change, standing on the frontline where old and new ideas collide. This inevitably creates tensions across various aspects of society.
When it comes to how women perceive themselves, identify themselves, define themselves, and live authentically, they must contend with traditional systems that have historically disciplined and confined them. This process inevitably leads to wounds—not just for women but potentially for others as well. These are serious matters worth repeated reflection and discussion. Confronting these issues head-on is an act of courage.
While public discourse seems increasingly focused on women’s issues, structural pressures—especially around marriage and motherhood—persist. In This Woman, there’s an interesting exploration of how women sometimes perpetuate these pressures on each other. Between the utopian ideal of “girls help girls” and the harsh realities of intergenerational expectations, how can we foster deeper mutual understanding?
True understanding will come when heterosexual marriage no longer exploits women. It will come when society fully supports mothers and provides comprehensive protection for women who’ve given birth. It will come when, in a more modern and civilized future, people—regardless of age or gender—respect each other as individuals capable of living independently. In any intimate relationship, true understanding will exist when people can maintain their sense of self without trying to control or suppress the other.
The film challenges monogamy and female sexuality—topics still considered taboo in Chinese society. Did you face personal or cultural obstacles while telling this story?
I didn’t face personal or cultural obstacles. I’ve been engaged in women’s rights advocacy for a long time. As a committed feminist, highlighting and representing women’s experiences is part of my mission.
Were there specific styles or directors that influenced This Woman?
I was simply working within the limits of my abilities at the time, trying to present and express topics that interest us. It just so happened that the film took on this unique visual form. I admire many directors’ early, low-budget works—like Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s Clouds of May and Christopher Nolan’s Following.
The film revolves around the performance of identity—whether as wife, mother, or lover—and the deliberate refusal of such roles. This is expressed through the minutiae of daily life, reminiscent of Jeanne Dielman. Can you talk about the role of mundane, everyday details in This Woman?
The essence of authentic, naturalistic imagery lies in the representation of daily life. These everyday moments were essential to This Woman, so we deliberately included them. Through this portrayal, we also offer a critique: women should not be confined solely to roles defined by their gender, marriage, or family. They deserve the possibility of self-actualization beyond these boundaries.
As a bold, experimental film, what challenges did you face in securing funding and distribution?
Without any secured funding, we shot this film on a low budget. Due to censorship issues, it’s challenging to distribute and screen the film domestically. We hope our sales agent can help bring This Woman to more audiences around the world.
Yun-hua Chen is an independent film scholar and critic and associate editor of Film International Online. Currently, she serves on the board of the German Film Critics Association.