Censors, Subtitles & Subcultures: How Montreal Artists Are Inspired by Chinese Underground Film

This article explores how Montreal’s do-it-yourself film and visual arts communities have been influenced by underground Chinese filmmaking and censorship-defying art. It makes comparisons between Montreal artists pushing the envelope in a more permissive setting and Chinese independent filmmakers operating under surveillance. However, it’s not always as simple as one might imagine for Montreal art collectives and venues to link with global resources in order to obtain restricted or difficult-to-find work.

Experimental and avant-garde art have long flourished in Montreal. The city thrives on creative tension, from daring Concordia film projects to grungy Mile End pop-ups. However, in recent years, the subversive realm of underground Chinese filmmaking has started to permeate the city’s visual arts and independent film communities, providing an unexpected source of inspiration.

Despite the strict regulations governing China’s mainstream media, a new generation of artists and filmmakers working just outside the system has produced a corpus of work that’s unvarnished, passionate, and frequently dangerous. Many of their performances, movies, and visual stories exist on the fringes; they are screened at underground festivals, transferred via hard drives, or streamed through global networks that provide more unrestricted access across borders, such as China-dedicated CyberGhost VPN.

From Surveillance to Symbolism

The political risk isn’t the only thing that sets these pictures apart. It’s their incredibly relatable depictions of urban ruin, family, identity, and alienation. An increasing number of Montreal-based filmmakers and artists have been influenced by directors such as Hu Bo (creator of the 2018 standalone movie “An Elephant Sitting Still”) and Zhao Liang (founder of the 2015 documentary film “Behemoth,” which focused on the environment). Their work, which is frequently restricted at home, is discussed in late-night cinema clubs near Parc-Ex or mentioned in McGill experimental film curricula.

A group of gifted and driven independent Chinese filmmakers had spent the whole decade pursuing their filmmaking goals before the pandemic. They’ve developed into a distinctive element of the Canadian film industry. Supported by EyeSteelFilm and GreenGround Productions, two Montreal studios, the young filmmakers’ films feature Chinese-related themes and have garnered numerous Canadian and international accolades. This highlights a theme that unites these two cultures: the tension between control and invention, and how the constraints of the group’s lives as depicted in their films can spur innovation.

Tech Borders and Cultural Bridges

Despite having comparatively easy access to resources, many Montreal artists nevertheless struggle with digital obstacles, such as geo-restrictions, lost archives, or removed content from international platforms. It has become a form of artistic investigation to access material that has been removed or restricted.

Some rely on digital archives housed in Asia or Europe, while others exchange tools to get over geographical restrictions. These bridges have political as well as utilitarian purposes. They show support for artists who are truly at risk and establish ties that reach from the back streets of Beijing to the lofts of Saint-Henri.

Bootlegged Asian short films, many of which have never been screened in their home countries, were recently played in a shadow showing at Montreal’s Cinéma Moderne. There was no publicity for the event. There were several people in the room.

Spaces of Resistance

The relationship between censorship and art isn’t new in Montreal, especially for racist, queer, or migratory artists. However, observing how Chinese filmmakers employ metaphor and negative space to imply criticism without mentioning specific individuals provides another approach.  

These strategies—removing direct reference, increasing emotion, and relying on the audience to read between the lines—are being used by zine-based organizations like Feminist Media Studio and local collectives like Studio Safar.

What’s Next?

Through hybrid events and digital cross-pollination, Montreal is emerging as a hub in an expanding network of artistic resistance. Even though some of the pieces are still unavailable in China, their spirit—defiant, lovely, and delicate—finds a home here.

International reviewers and curators like Shelly Kraicer offer reviews and background information on films that don’t often make it to the mainstream for individuals who are interested in exploring this realm. His work provides access to lesser-known filmmakers who are often overlooked in the discourse surrounding popular cinema. This doesn’t apply to those Chinese filmmakers who found a way of making their name in Quebec, like director Xioadan He.

It has nothing to do with appropriation. It’s about paying attention, picking up knowledge, and using their struggle to influence our freedom.

Conclusion

Creative voices find ways to get across gaps created by the construction of walls in some regions of the world. Those echoes aren’t just heard in Montreal; they are transformed.