Have you ever heard the phrase, “Only a director this good can make a film this bad?” I first heard it from Roger Ebert, and I’m pretty sure he was quoting one of his favorites. That’s not important. What is important is that Resurrection is a mess of such perfection that it could only come from a great director. I have no doubt there are people who find the perfection in Resurrection. All I can say is they are all much smarter than I am.
The premise of this near three-hour slog is that future humans have discovered the secret to eternal life: not dreaming. Great googily moogily, this is your premise. I guess in all the “Trump is a monster” rhetoric, I’ve forgotten the issues that truly plague some in our society, like the fact that dreaming is at odds with health? I mean, what kind of statement are you making when you invent a society where dreaming is eliminated? Your idea of fascism and my idea of fascism are not on the same page.
Anyhoo, this society of the ridiculous future has a handful of “Deliriants,” secret dreamers. One such fellow (Jackson Yee) hides in movies to dream. Hey, I dream in movies, too. In fact, I wish I had dreamt through all 160 minutes of this one. Big Mother (Shu Qi) hunts the Deliriants, she will chase this dreamer through, I dunno, five (?) different eras of increasingly “What’s going on here?”
I’d describe it to you, but to do that, someone would have to describe it to me. Point is this Orwellian future eventually devolves into a film about con artists, which, again, makes no sense to me … but I hadn’t understood much from the get go, so this part could have been brilliant, and I’d never know it. This film is told in several 
different eras, and based on the cinematography and era-relevant camera play of the time, it is quite clear that writer director Bi Gan is a highly skilled artist. And the fact that this film is very long and very confusing brings me right back to the first statement I made here.
I don’t get to use the word “dungheap” near enough for all the films I see, but Resurrection certainly invokes such. Resurrection is the ultimate art film: pretentious, slow, and a unique, unmitigated dungheap, reeking of the odor of one who finds art in bowel movements. This film won the Prix Spécial at Cannes, because of course it did. Me and Cannes will just never be on the same page, either. You want three hours of boredom, confusion, but some excellent filmmaking techniques? Check this shit out.
In future, long life eschews dreams
Which creates sets of divergent teams
For some, there is hope
For fascists, some rope
For me, wish I’d skipped this, it seems
Not Rated, 160 Minutes
Director: Bi Gan (let bygones, be …)
Writer: Bi Gan
Genre: Films I hope the director understood, at least
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Cannes
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Me
