Henry O'Brien
Chinese director Jia Zhangke remains a fascinating figure within world cinema. He’s a filmmaker who consistently returns to similar stories, themes and structures. And yet, the Shanxi province native continuously finds different avenues to represent his obsessions both narratively and stylistically. Much like Oliver Stone with his Vietnam War trilogy (Platoon, Born on the Fourth of July, JFK), Zhangke can’t stop analyzing his favorite topic: China’s growth into a global superpower.
With Caught by the Tides, a film that premiered at Cannes in 2024 and now opens theatrically in Chicago, Zhangke delves into his core fascinations, yet surprises and stuns his most ardent fans. The film is one of his best yet at dissecting and understanding how his home country has evolved in the 21st century and what that means for its citizens. Thus, Caught by the Tides is one of the best movies of 2025. Zhangke masterfully achieves this by mixing in various dated cameras, footage from drones and even outtakes from his older movies.
Like his previous two works—Mountains May Depart and Ash Is Purest White—Caught by the Tides is an elliptical love story that spans from 2001 to the pandemic era. His latest film details Qiao Qiao (Zhao Tao, Zhangke’s longtime collaborator and partner) and Guao Bin (Li Zhubin) in a romantic odyssey that sees the two reunite after decades apart. Qiao Qiao works as a singer, model and club girl, all the while holding a relationship with Bin, who is her boss. When she looks for Bin across the country, the two eventually break up before meeting up again during the COVID-19 pandemic.
All the while, China develops around them. We see scenes of Chinese citizens celebrating the news that the 2008 Summer Olympics would come to Beijing and of the country’s rapidly developing robotics industry in the 2020s. And for added measure, Zhangke again concerns himself with the displaced citizens living in the Yangtze River area who must move due to the development of the Three Gorges Dam.
But in an act of cinematic boldness and reflexivity, Zhangke incorporates old footage from his previous films like Unknown Pleasures, Still Life and Ash Is Purest White. The most readily apparent outtakes come from Still Life, the 2006 film that tells the story of two people (Tao and Han Sanming) in the Yangtze River town, Fengjie, looking for their spouses. Time passes not only for these characters but for Zhangke himself.
Using his old works to define his new ones feels as if Zhangke is warring against time itself. The pace of Caught by the Tides feels free-flowing, as each time period moves swiftly and smoothly. There’s not an equal amount of minutes divvied up between the time periods; the transitions just happen when they happen. This is especially the case with the outtakes, where Zhangke uses them to push up against any form of rigid time constraint. Zhangke shows how the cinematic worlds of his older films can expand far beyond what the viewer sees on the screen.
Zhangke employs this philosophy in his narratives as well. Countless podcasts and articles have been dedicated to the idea that the 21st century is “the Chinese century.” China has the second-largest GDP and the largest navy of any country, and it dominates various industries like electric automation. But Zhangke’s depictions of characters like Qiao Qiao and Bin display how a plethora of China’s citizens still struggle to make ends meet. Furthermore, the weight of this socialist market economy can still force people into the margins.
The world crashes down on the two main characters, and Zhangke’s decision to use different types of cameras perfectly represents this. As Zhangke jumps between Sony DSR-PD150, Sony Betacam, Sony HDV, Arricam LT 35mm and Arri Alexa 35 cameras, the time periods melt together; no matter the year, Qiao Qiao and Bin struggle. Zhangke gives their plight a documentarian’s gaze, understanding that these fictional characters’ plight reflects the reality for many among China’s one billion residents.
Tao, who has made a legendary career out of keeping her characters grounded to the earth at the most granular level (this is particularly the case in Mountains May Depart and Ash Is Purest White), once again understands the boiling rage and disappointment that resides underneath Qiao Qiao’s exterior. As Qiao Qiao tracks down Bin across the country, the looks that Tao gave in Still Life radiate with the same power nearly two decades later. As Tao’s career has gone on with Zhangke, she reflects a sense of bitterness, as if she finds her own internal ways to fight against the time’s unending trudge forward.
Both Qiao Qiao and Bin seem like they have to weather the storm of time and history. Whether the tides become too high or too low, they seem like they are stuck in the middle of them (just as the movie’s title states). There’s no better way to describe Zhangke’s fascinations. Whether it be past or present, Zhangke wants to be in the middle of the metaphorical tides.
