We’re so used to seeing virtual reality depicted nefariously in films like The Matrix, Virtuousity (a forgotten ’90s classic) and The Lawnmower Man, it’s genuinely surprising to see something that treats VR in a potentially positive way. In Flora Lau’s Luz, which premiered at the Sundance Film Festival this week, there’s no major downside to VR, it’s just another way for humans to connect. And in the case of the film’s two lonely leads, art gallery worker Ren (Sandrine Pinna) and pseudo-gangster Wei (Xiaodong Guo), VR serves as a life raft of human connection, something that could help them find peace in a world where they both feel adrift.
Set in modern-day Chongqing (a city so neon-filled and futuristic it seems more sci-fi than real) and Paris, the characters in Luz live alongside technology familiar to us. Smartphones and OnlyFans-esque livestreams featuring young girls are commonplace. But the virtual reality hardware in the film — including ski mask-like goggles, pointed finger sensors that resemble a witch’s nails — is both a step ahead, and slightly behind, where we are today. Luz, both the name of the film and the VR world people visit, is a fascinating artifact of the immersive reality space from several years ago. That was before we knew finger tracking could be the main input mode in a VR/AR headset like Apple’s Vision Pro.
Ren and Wei experience the VR world of Luz as an escape from their real-world troubles, though that ultimately proves futile. Ren tries to connect with her stepmother Sabine (the legendary Isabelle Huppert), an emotionally distant Paris gallery owner who is avoiding any help for a potentially fatal illness. Wei, meanwhile, is trying to reconnect with his estranged daughter Fa, who he can only see anonymously via that aforementioned livestream.
The lead’s storylines intersect during an in-game hunting expedition for a mysterious neon deer, which appears to be the closest thing to “winning” Luz. Wei and Ren reluctantly bond, and eventually they start to find ways to heal their emotional wounds. It’s an intriguing concept, though we don’t spend enough time with both characters hanging out in VR to truly sell their relationship.
Luz doesn’t attempt to deliver a fully CG VR world like Ready Player One (thank god), instead we see a hyper-stylized version of the real world with an abundance of neon lights, floating particles and characters dressed as if they’re about to head to Comic-Con. Obviously, it’s an easier way to convey VR, but the film is also portraying a version of the technology that’s practically identical to the real world. If VR were truly so immersive, why even bother with real life connections? (Stylistically, it reminds me of Ghost in the Shell director Mamoru Oshii’s forgotten Polish sci-fi film, Avalon, which also explored how people can redefine themselves in a VR simulation.)
While Lau goes to great lengths to craft gorgeous VR imagery, what the film really needs is more time for its two leads to sit down and talk to each other, instead of having us infer emotion as they stare off into the distance. At just an hour and forty two minutes, there’s plenty of room for more character exploration. But at least we get some intriguing conversations between Ren and Sabine, with Huppert being her typically charming self. (Perhaps the most unbelievable aspect of the film is that Sabine, a hip presence in the visual arts scene, hadn’t tried VR until Ren convinced her. We’ve been seeing artists adopt VR for installations since 2016, so it’s far from a new concept.)
Luz is close to being a great film, with its strong performances and confidently composed cinematography. But through either restraint or weak screenwriting, we don’t always have a sense of how the leads relate to the world, or even what they think of each other. The overall approach feels too cold and distant for a film that’s ultimately about rediscovering human connection.
#Sundance #premiere #Luz #explores #find #connection #real #world
