Neither Kogonada nor his characters can go home again in the aimless Zi

Filmmaker Kogonada and the characters he creates find themselves without a solid home base in the loosely plotted drama Zi. This comes after the release of his less successful film, A Big Bold Beautiful Journey. The Midwestern director, known for After Yang, seems to be signaling a return to more grounded material, perhaps recognizing the futility of his earlier endeavor.

But striving to define oneself through opposition rarely leads to success. Zi, with its three main characters (violinist Zi, ex-dancer Elle, and ex-fiancé Min) wandering through Hong Kong for a night, feels as if it has been pieced together hastily, much like many indie projects made by friends in a short time. While the film's production process was liberating for Kogonada and his team, it results in some scenes feeling more whimsical than grounded, despite Kogonada's aim to create poetic reality.

The movie's reliance on an ethereal aesthetic, with its handheld camerawork, jittery cuts, and photo-processing effects, reflects Kogonada's tendency toward poetic unreality. However, it also undermines any emotional depth he attempts to convey. Fans of Kogonada's earlier work might find Zi trying to achieve the elegant highs of Columbus's films, even casting Richardson as the chattiest character.

Zi's journey through a neurological clinic to a possible diagnosis of a brain tumor that allows her to see versions of herself in different times adds a surreal element, but the film's attempts to connect the characters' personal struggles often fall flat due to stiff performances, particularly from Richardson. While the film captures the bustling streets and stairways of Hong Kong, its fleeting focus and lack of substantial narrative make it more about fleeting moments of resonance than any deeper connection.

The musical trio's reliance on expressions of sound and movement over words, coupled with a heavy piano score, adds to the film's dreamy atmosphere but sometimes leaves the narrative feeling underdeveloped. Zi begins with the unsettling realization of seeing one's own body across the street, reflecting a split between "you" and a version of yourself that doesn't recognize the other.

This theme, left unexplored, results in a film that feels aimless, much like its characters, searching for something to hold onto amidst the cityscape and their own uncertainty.