Star, a suicidal teen now too old for foster care, develops a candid rapport with An, a student from Shanghai who is assigned to watch her while she is in hospital. A nightly exchange of secrets, text messages and possessions quickly expands the boundaries of their relationship, altering their inner chemistry.
Gilded by a soundscape that interweaves work by emerging and pioneering electronic musicians, Queens of the Qing Dynasty is an offbeat ode to neurodiversity and genderqueer individuals who refuse to conform. Director Ashley McKenzie’s blend of formalism and gritty realism does not fail to surprise and treats the audience to flashes of visual and conceptual poetry. Her cast is entirely composed of first-time actors who convincingly convey how unique every individual is, both in how they see the world and how they relate to others. Ziyin Zheng in the role of An graciously embodies a mix of idiosyncrasy and frankness that makes them an ideal confidante for Star (Sarah Wal
Star, a suicidal teen now too old for foster care, develops a candid rapport with An, a student from Shanghai who is assigned to watch her while she is in hospital. A nightly exchange of secrets, text messages and possessions quickly expands the boundaries of their relationship, altering their inner chemistry.
Gilded by a soundscape that interweaves work by emerging and pioneering electronic musicians, Queens of the Qing Dynasty is an offbeat ode to neurodiversity and genderqueer individuals who refuse to conform. Director Ashley McKenzie’s blend of formalism and gritty realism does not fail to surprise and treats the audience to flashes of visual and conceptual poetry. Her cast is entirely composed of first-time actors who convincingly convey how unique every individual is, both in how they see the world and how they relate to others. Ziyin Zheng in the role of An graciously embodies a mix of idiosyncrasy and frankness that makes them an ideal confidante for Star (Sarah Wal
