CINEOS Premiere

What Time Is It There?

A grieving watch-seller in Taipei starts resetting every clock he can find to Paris time, chasing a woman he barely met — a film that turns longing itself into the substance you breathe.

It speaks almost entirely through stillness, long static takes, and the body's ordinary functions, trusting you to infer the whole weight of grief and desire from what is withheld. Nothing is ever performed loudly enough to build toward a release, so the pressure of loneliness never discharges — it settles in the chest as a slow residue instead of the eyes. The images of the son urinating into a bag, the mother setting a place for the dead, a woman asleep in a park lodge with the persistence of a recurring dream you cannot summarise or shake.