Shao Pan delivers an ultimatum to the bias of contextualism through a sophisticated portrait of grief, culture, and revenge within the Jianghu world in Nangong Cheng, this year’s one-of-a-kind IFFR Tiger Competition entry.
Whenever we hear ancestral tales passed down through generations, a mystical element permeates them. Within those tales, shared across cultures, strength is retold through multiple layers—sometimes shapeshifted into warriors, sometimes folded tightly into a box buried deep beneath the ground. Director Shao Pan opens such a spellbinding box, a quintessential Pandora’s box of complex curiosities whose unique charm is sure to amaze.
Nangong Cheng is dying from an infected wound, a physical decay that has long prevented him from truly living. He finds little happiness within his own bubble and tries to lead a mundane life, yet somehow harbors a few guarded secrets. He then meets a stranger named Zhuang, who is also dying—from a heart disease born of grief. Since his wife’s murder, this pain has slowly devoured any peace he once had. The reason for meeting Cheng? He is the only person who can cure Zhuang, being a traditional martial healer. But it’s not as easy as it seems. Answering a wake-up call, Cheng embarks on a new mission that begins as a justified hunt and rapidly spirals into a web of discoveries.
The connection between Cheng and Zhuang creates a sense of leveled suffering, where mercy and strength engage in a yin-yang exchange, each working to restore the other. What becomes clearer, however, is how the screenplay focuses on the internal, emotional trauma of illness—a trauma shared by both men as it nudges them toward the end of life and death. With an artsy, cinematographically rich style, Pan portrays a reality-defying trauma, trapping his characters in torment. It feels as if Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s sensibilities were fused with cultural mystery and adventure.
True to its cultural heart, Pan builds his film using the very bricks and mortar of Jianghu, carefully transplanting its world into modernity and weaving its core values into every frame. This is less a simple film than an act of preservation, in which Pan innovatively wraps Jianghu history into a flawless package. Every layer of the culture, from the epidermal to the mythological, is intertwined as a testament of respect and continuity. Imaginatively speaking, it is as if Pan welcomes us into his directorial home with a mighty sword laid upon the red carpet—inviting us in, yet reminding us to remain vigilant toward the legacy being preserved.
Let’s be clear: a film created by a single individual—Shao Pan acting as actor, director, editor, producer, composer, and sound designer—is undeniably a personal portrait and a project of profound significance. As our gaze sinks deeper into this portrait, its sophistication blossoms, revealing multiple dimensions of humane precision. The pacing is meticulously calibrated, moving us, exciting us, stirring emotion, and shocking us to the core. Like a rebellious magnet, the film’s juggling of alternatives pulls our emotions in conflicting directions, simultaneously steering curiosity, care, and resonance—a momentum achieved through Pan’s exacting direction.
The film’s core aim is to intrigue, pushing viewers to question, reflect, wonder, and ultimately change. It poses a central question: why is today’s community soaked like a sponge, eager to align with a modernism that has turned old communal cultures to dust? Who determines these changes, and why is contextualism treated so unfairly in the decision-making process? Pan expands this critique into the broader realms of corruption, injustice, and blunted empathy, asking: when did we cease to be righteous? When did we trade principled lives for comfortable ones by accepting injustice?
Nangong Cheng is IFFR’s one-of-a-kind entry in this year’s Tiger Competition—a film that defies categorization, featuring an almost one-man show that channels the Jianghu world directly into the viewer’s veins through its meticulous artistry. Against the gray backdrop of normalized corruption, Shao Pan unleashes the vivid, uncompromising universe of Jianghu. Its ancient mystics and moral codes act as a clarifying light, exposing the ethical compromises of the present. With a runtime of over three hours, Nangong Cheng keeps us on edge through its slow burn, breathing fire through martial arts and the legendary magic embedded within its world. As Cheng states in the film, “life is more complicated than science”—a reminder that sophistication holds profound value, and that every cause carries a reason, if we choose to trust it.
The International Film Festival Rotterdam is running on 29 Jan – 8 Feb 2026.
