Berlinale Review: The Botanist Presents Sun-Drenched Scenery and Coming-of-Age Fascinations

      Few things alleviate the harshness of winter like a sun-drenched film. Pair that with languid days and youthful romance, and you might even forget the frigid temperatures outside. Snow was softly falling around the Zoo Palast before yesterday’s early afternoon screening of *The Botanist*, the debut feature from writer-director Jing Yi, which offers a poignant slice of summer nostalgia. The film takes place in the rolling hills of the Xinjiang valley, where Jing grew up, yet it is not an autobiographical work: it centers on a young Kazakh boy named Arsin (Yesl Jahseleh) and his bond with a Han girl named Meiyu (Ren Zihan). At one point, as they lie down to soak up the sun, with a parasol overhead and sunglasses on, you can almost feel the warmth on your skin.

      *The Botanist* had its premiere this weekend in the Generations section—an excellent venue for a debut, although I believe Jing’s film, with its elements of surrealism and striking visuals, could have easily fit into one of the festival’s more prestigious categories. Jing presents the dreamlike narrative as a memory from Arsin’s uncle Bek, who the boy searches for throughout the film, appearing as an elderly man at both the beginning and the end. This intricate point of view allows Jing to incorporate some delightful unconventionalities (including a black horse that recites poetry) while remaining anchored in Arsin’s reality. The atmospheric feeling is enhanced by the breathtaking landscape, frequently captured from lower angles (I was amused to learn that the director of photography, Fannong Li, has a degree in landscape design), showcasing his actors against a stunning backdrop of golden savannah and clear blue skies. It’s easy to become absorbed in it.

      The narrative mainly tracks Arsin, an inquisitive boy whose passion for botany symbolizes his nomadic Kazakh heritage and serves as a lens through which he perceives the world. (At one moment, he expresses in voiceover a desire to become a thistle to endure a tough situation, only to reject the idea because it could harm someone else.) While collecting samples for his notebook filled with notes and flora, he encounters Meiyu, and the two quickly become close companions. Meiyu works at a small local bazaar, where her slightly older brother is not pleased with their cross-community friendship. Another complication is their lack of a common language, yet this permits Jing to evolve their relationship through playful exploration, which soon blossoms into a form of love.

      As a debut feature, *The Botanist* boasts impressive backing: it was produced by Shan Zoulong, recognized for collaborations with Bi Gan on *Kaili Blues* and *Long Day’s Journey into Night*, with Gan also serving as a mentor during the early writing stages of *The Botanist*. At times, Jing’s creativity seems poised to overshadow the narrative, but more often than not, the director keeps the story grounded by allowing the broader world to filter in. For years, Chinese cinema has been attuned to this specific tension, and *The Botanist* provides a fresh viewpoint.

      *The Botanist* premiered at the 2025 Berlinale.