4th, 5th Part Comparison of the heroine before and after turning the mirror, Before: Enter the emotion (start acting) After: Start to get into the play, the music starts to change to make the audience believe, the story of being ‘Pick-Up Artist’ begins, mainly natural Emotion: tragic feeling The contrast between the audience and the protagonist, the audience knows, but the protagonist is acting.
Tips: The melody is borrowed from 1st, the strings effect is added in 4th, 5th, so that the audience feels familiar, less drums After the drums, you can start tying people
1st part, door closed during ‘Room Cleaning’2nd part, the actor is stealing, found the green ring finally3rd part, 2 main characters first appear together in a room (under same space), and discuss with Bold Action they are going to do4th part, the actress is calling the black cab driver (drum kit part)5th part, the actress is gazing the mirror and noticed the actor (her boyfriend) then6th part, mirror transition, the actress and the actor are simulating a robbery7th part, the actress is seducing the black cab driver8th part, the black cab driver is resisting the main the couple, and the pistol fell off then
Guðnadóttir’s score is characterized by deep, sorrowful string lines that mirror the protagonist’s isolation and slow unraveling. The cello, often used alone, becomes a vessel for unspoken psychological trauma.
While our film is set in a very different cultural context, the emotional isolation and suppressed frustration in Joker parallels the conditions of many Chinese working-class youth. I adopted a similar approach—using strings not as romantic instruments but as tools to express psychological heaviness.
Trainspotting, Soundtract
The soundtrack of Trainspotting embodies youthful defiance and existential emptiness. “Born Slippy” in particular captures the duality of euphoria and desperation that underpins the characters’ drug use and aimless rebellion.
I structured part of my soundtrack around a rising techno rhythm that never climaxes. This reflects the “gambling” lifestyle where the win is always just out of reach. Like the characters in Trainspotting, my characters pursue a kind of freedom that is always on the horizon, never fully real.
Aphex Twin & Caterina Barbieri
Aphex Twin’s fragmented, unpredictable compositions and Barbieri’s hypnotic modular sequences both challenge traditional musical form. Their work often feels like a brain thinking out loud, fluctuating between order and chaos.
Their approaches helped me develop a non-linear, emotionally ambiguous sound language for my film. Where the narrative logic of the story fractures (due to the dream twist), I let the sound become unstable—sometimes beautiful, sometimes jarring.
From Barbieri, I borrowed long-evolving synth patterns that create trance-like immersion. From Aphex Twin, I took the courage to let my sounds glitch, break, or “misbehave”—mirroring the characters’ unstable sense of agency and control.
Michael Bull contends that, given the predominance of visual epistemologies in urban experience, it is unsurprising that the first consumer cultural icon of the twenty-first century is the Apple iPod, a sound-based technology. This book examines how we utilize sound to shape crucial aspects of our everyday lives, using the Apple iPod as an example. The author contends that the Apple iPod serves as an urban Sherpa for many users, aligning itself with the mobile array of technologies we routinely use in our daily lives.
The book illustrates the transformation of urban spaces occurring right before our ears, due to our use of mobile devices that are primarily sound-based.
Sound Moves: iPod Culture and Urban Experience, Michael Bull
Audiophile Culture & Exclusivity: The fetishization of high-end gear (vinyl, tube amps, lossless audio).
Spatial Audio & Immersive Experiences: Apple Music’s Dolby Atmos vs. experimental sound art installations.
Sound Sculptures as Status Symbols: Artists like Harry Bertoia or Pan Sonic creating sound objects for elite collectors.
‘Holly+’, Holly Herndon
Holly Herndon Launches DAO-Controlled Vocal Deepfake Platform ‘Holly+’, an online instrument that channels audio files through a digital model of her own voice.
Upload a file, and a glitched-out version of Herndon will sing it back to you. In a statement, Herndon has described the project as a kind of vocal deepfake.
‘Bourdieu’s Distinction’, Pierre Bourdieu
In the course of everyday life we constantly choose between what we find aesthetically pleasing, and what we consider tacky, merely trendy, or ugly. Taste is not pure. Bourdieu demonstrates that our different aesthetic choices are all distinctions – that is, choices made in opposition to those made by other classes.
Imaginary Soundscapes: Works that exist only as descriptions (e.g., Yoko Ono’s “Secret Piece”). ? Sound is a vibration in Physics.
“Art is not a special thing. Anyone can do it. Making art does not have to be so unusual. What I mean is that middle-aged men and housewives, your neighbors can also do it…. If everybody were to become an artist, what we call “Art” would disappear. I think it would be fine if this were to happen and [what I have envisioned] becomes a reality.”Yoko Ono
The Absurd & Satirical Sound Art
Anti-Functional Audio: Sound art that deliberately fails (e.g., broken instruments, feedback loops as protest).
In designing the sonic environment for our short film—a surreal, darkly comedic story where a young couple cheats a taxi driver only to reveal it was all a dream—I was drawn to references that captured psychological instability, urban alienation, and the emotional weight of class anxiety. These reference points not only shaped the texture and structure of my sound design but also deepened my understanding of how sound can embody themes of aimlessness, deception, and fantasy. By weaving together techno synthesisers and strings, I aimed to reflect the inner worlds of China’s working-class youth living under pressure, stuck between survival and delusion.
Uncut Gems, Daniel Lopatin
Lopatin’s score is a masterclass in building tension through synthetic textures. It avoids traditional emotional cues and instead uses looping, layered synths that create a sense of breathless forward motion. The music never gives the listener relief—mirroring the protagonist’s gambling addiction and desperate lifestyle.
This chaotic, claustrophobic aesthetic resonated with our film’s themes of risk, obsession, and fantasy as escapism. I borrowed Lopatin’s technique of using layered arpeggios and pulsing synthesisers to reflect how my characters mentally spiral through the idea of “one big score” that will fix everything.
Lopatin’s ability to sonically reflect urban pressure and mental breakdown inspired me to move away from emotional melodies and instead embrace disorientation and overload as narrative tools. I used fast, repetitive synth motifs that grow increasingly unstable as the characters’ dream develops—suggesting their reality is slipping.
Enter the Void, Thomas Bangalter et al.
Gaspar Noé’s film stands out for its fluid transitions between consciousness, hallucination, and memory—achieved in part by deeply immersive, often disorienting sound design. The soundtrack uses slow, sweeping bass tones and heavily processed ambient textures to dissolve spatial boundaries.
This approach inspired the sound design for the dream-reality blurring in my film. Rather than marking the dream with obvious cues, I subtly introduced reverb-heavy textures and irregular tempo shifts that destabilize the perception of time and space.
I used low-frequency drones, reversed synth tails, and granular processing—techniques I observed in Enter the Void—to reflect a dream state that doesn’t feel magical, but rather uncanny and unresolved. This parallels how my characters’ fantasy is seductive but ultimately ungrounded.
The filming process for our short film was both challenging and rewarding. Our production was relatively small-scale, but it required careful planning, coordination, and adaptability—especially since we were working with limited equipment and time constraints. The story, which takes place mostly in and around a taxi, demanded creative problem-solving in terms of location, lighting, and shot composition.
We began with several pre-production meetings to storyboard the scenes and finalize the script. Wentao, the director, was responsible for shot planning and character direction, while I contributed ideas related to how sound would interact with visual elements. We discussed pacing, transitions, and the emotional tone of key scenes to make sure the cinematography would leave space for sound to play a meaningful role later in post-production.
One of the most logistically difficult parts of the shoot was the taxi scene, which formed the core of the narrative. Filming inside a moving car brought technical limitations, such as camera placement and ambient noise, but also inspired some interesting framing choices. We used both handheld and fixed camera angles to create a sense of tension and unease, aligning with the film’s darkly humorous tone. Since much of the story is set within this confined space, we experimented with close-ups and off-screen dialogue to build psychological pressure.
Although Wentao led the cinematography and direction, our collaboration extended into small but important decisions during the shoot. For example, in transitional scenes where characters shift from dialogue to silent thought, I offered input about how these moments could be enhanced through quiet or ambient sound, helping us decide when to hold a shot longer or leave a space for audio to carry the emotion.
Overall, the filming process required a lot of flexibility. Some scenes were restructured on the spot to adjust for lighting conditions, actor availability, or continuity errors. These improvisations were sometimes frustrating but ultimately improved the natural flow of the narrative. It was a valuable reminder that film is not a fixed plan but a living process that evolves through collaboration and experimentation.
Throughout the film, we paid close attention to light and shadow as storytelling tools. Many interior scenes are shot in low light, often with a single directional source like a desk lamp or passing streetlight. This intentional dimness evokes a sense of urban loneliness and economic instability—paralleling the themes of the film. Shadows cast across the characters’ faces create moments of concealment and ambiguity, reinforcing the idea that they are constantly negotiating between deception and self-deception. In one particularly effective shot, the protagonist’s face is half-lit, suggesting a tension between moral uncertainty and psychological vulnerability.
Framing and composition were also central to the visual language of the film. We often positioned the camera at oblique angles or from slightly distanced perspectives, intentionally avoiding overly polished or symmetrical shots. This gave the film a raw, observational quality that mirrors the unglamorous reality of the characters’ lives. In contrast, dream-like moments—such as the ring-search sequence—featured slower camera movements and a more centralized framing, creating a slightly surreal atmosphere. This shift in visual tone subtly cues the audience into the dream-state without using obvious visual effects.
We also made deliberate use of negative space in our shots. Empty areas in the frame, such as blank walls or out-of-focus backgrounds, serve to emphasise the characters’ emotional isolation. This was especially effective in scenes where dialogue was sparse; the emptiness around the actors echoed the silence in their internal world. The urban setting, while minimally shown, is always felt—through confined interiors, cramped environments, and the suggestion of a city just outside the frame.
Overall, the visual design of the film worked in harmony with the sound to create a coherent emotional and thematic experience. Rather than relying on overt dramatic visuals, we chose to suggest emotion through subtle framing, lighting, and reflective surfaces. These choices helped immerse the viewer in the uncertain, anxious world the characters inhabit—where every action, whether real or imagined, is driven by hope, survival, and illusion.
Frank Ocean’s ‘household name’ album Blonde had a major emotional impact on the film. When developing the characters Huang Jia and Si Hai, we imagined them as summer lovers doomed to separate, unaware at that moment of the deep and lasting connection they shared. The album also inspired my approach to the sound design, incorporating the strings and electronic synths we wanted to experiment with in this film.
visual
The recurring themes of love and seduction in Wong Kar-wai’s films inspired our creation. His scene selection, shooting style and art design have a certain reference effect on this film. For example, we chose to use the scene in the hotel corridor as the opening to establish an atmosphere of alienation and ambiguity, and the intimate relationship between Huang Jia and Si Hai as the main theme of the film’s fantasy.
ideology
The initial concept of writing this script was inspired by Camus’s absurdism. I wanted to bring this absurdism into the plight of the young generation of Chinese working class.
