Tsai Ming-liang discusses the personal influences behind The Hole, the continuous evolution of his work, and his upcoming films.

      The recent works of Tsai Ming-liang—starting around 2009’s Face or 2013’s Stray Dogs and extending at least to 2024’s Abiding Nowhere—are not solely focused on master-shots or minimal narratives; for audiences who appreciate his style, they can momentarily make other forms of cinema seem nearly incomprehensible. It’s then quite surprising to reflect on how Tsai was not always this strict.

      Revisiting The Hole, his 1998 feature, which is being released in North America on a new 35mm print this Friday at Film at Lincoln Center, reveals a style that, while foreshadowing his later films, still allows for a broader and certainly more musical expression. By its stunning final image, we find ourselves in a realm of outright sentimentality.

      One could approach The Hole without any prior knowledge of Tsai and, upon experiencing this ideal version, might suspect they have stumbled upon one of the final great films of the 20th century. The release by Big World Pictures is significant enough that the Taiwanese director took some time to discuss this earlier work, providing clear insights into its significance in his career. It’s no surprise, however, that Tsai is looking ahead: our conversation ends with tantalizing hints about his upcoming projects.

      The Film Stage: When was the last time you viewed The Hole?

      Tsai Ming-liang: That was last year, as there was a retrospective of my work in Austin. Because of that event, I had the wonderful opportunity to watch this specific print of The Hole, which made me very happy. There are actually two versions of The Hole: one is an edited TV version made for Arte, which is 20 minutes shorter than this complete version; the print is the full version of the film.

      I've seen all of your films, but most of them in the U.S. are available only for home viewing. Experiencing The Hole in a theater on a print was markedly different, much like my recent experience watching What Time Is It There? on 35mm. What are your thoughts on the distinction between home viewing and theater viewing—in terms of screen size, sound, and attention?

      I believe that watching films at home is very convenient, but I also feel that much is lost when viewing films in that setting rather than on a large screen. For me, the big screen really highlights the unique qualities of films, enabling viewers to appreciate the true details the filmmaker wants to convey. Additionally, sound requires that kind of environment—a large theater—to immerse oneself fully.

      Moreover, the complete darkness of a cinema is another aspect that cannot be replicated at home. All these factors contribute to a unique viewing experience and are vital to expressing a film's true impact in a theater. Therefore, I have been making efforts, especially in Taiwan and throughout Asia, to encourage audiences to return to theaters. I see this as a challenging task, but ultimately, it’s the best way to truly enjoy and appreciate the power of films: in a theater, rather than at home, regardless of how convenient that may be.

      I found myself rewatching some of your earlier works, like Rebels of the Neon God and Vive L’Amour, and was struck by their quicker pacing. There seem to be more shots in the first five minutes of Rebels than in your last five films combined. There’s also quite a bit of camera movement in Vive L’Amour—almost a dance-like quality. It appears that The River and The Hole transition towards a slower, more static style. What led to this shift?

      I believe this change relates to the fact that prior to creating Rebels of the Neon God and Vive L’Amour, I was involved in many television productions, making films intended for TV. This background influenced the style applied in those first two films. The kind of storytelling in those pieces required a very clear narrative and smooth camera movements, which guided my approach during their creation.

      However, I later aimed to ensure each film I made would bring something new, showcasing evident variations from one to the next. This included considering elements like the absence of music, crafting a clear narrative structure, and focusing on storytelling through distinct camera angles. I hoped to eventually incorporate musical aspects into my films as well. Overall, my intent has been to connect more closely with audiences through each new project while also delivering something fresh with every film.

      I understand you had an initial concept for The Hole that you set aside upon finding the locations. This is surprising, as the film possesses a notably strong narrative. Do you recall the process of discovering the story through shooting? Could you elaborate on how the film took shape this way?

      The Hole originated as a commissioned piece for a French team that sought multiple perspectives on the year 2000, exploring the transition into the new century. Reflecting on this kind of shift, I was drawn to crafting non-stop rainy atmospheres and situations since I believed a century turn should evoke a cool