113 Words for You Today

The inspiration for this film came from a quiet, almost invisible moment I once witnessed: a Chinese cook, squatting on the curbside during what must have been a short break from a long shift. He smoked silently, face blank and weary — the kind of expression I’ve come to recognize in many workers living far from home. Then, he made a phone call. Within seconds, his face lit up with joy. He smiled, laughed, became talkative — suddenly so full of life. It was as if a part of him had been reawakened.
That moment stayed with me.
As a Chinese animation director who has lived and worked in the U.S. for over ten years, I carry with me a strong awareness of what it means to exist between worlds — to speak in a second language, to navigate foreign systems, and to live with parts of yourself tucked away, saved for rare and meaningful moments of connection. I see that same quiet restraint in many immigrant workers — not because they lack feeling, but because they’ve learned to protect it.
In this film, I imagined a team of workers sent to a distant frozen planet, where speech is rationed to just 138 words per day. It’s a sci-fi setting, but at its core, it reflects a very human truth: the emotional economy of survival. The main character, Soo, chooses his words carefully. He works in silence, suppresses pain, and avoids asking for help — not because he’s cold or distant, but because he’s saving his words for someone who matters.
The film is a quiet tribute to those who seem emotionally distant on the surface — but beneath them are entire worlds of tenderness, sacrifice, and love, just waiting for the right moment to be spoken.