In Philip K. Dick’s novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, bounty hunter Rick Deckard asks, “Do androids dream too?” In
Just like the one tested in
There are also serene ironies, like the scene where a sheep collapses immediately after a comically dynamic family dance scene. The fact that the deep undercurrent of daily life, which seems peaceful and lyrical, also flows with an ominous feeling, is an important sense that After Yang presents early. It’s also interesting work as a political metaphor for how future society will intelligently erase dystopian reality. Meanwhile, a robot that long remembers and mourns the humans who lost it often comes up against unique editing techniques. Kogonada’s imagination of the human-machine memory method induces observation and exploration instead of immersion in multiple scenes where the same moment is repeated from different perspectives. The somewhat rough grammar that is possible because the director edited it himself is the definite personality that makes the afterimage of
“Can I be honest? I’m doing well. Even if there is nothing at the end. (Android Yang’s thoughts on Lao Tzu’s saying: “It’s the end for the caterpillar, but the beginning for the butterfly.”)
Singer Lily Shushu, created by director Shunji Iwai, was revived 20 years later by techno sapiens wearing T-shirts honoring her in After Sheep.
“Music maven. Introvert. Bacon evangelist. Extreme writer. Internet aficionado. Travel scholar. Lifelong problem solver.”