Chinese filmmaker Ji Qiuyu approaches the world with gentleness. Her documentary The Homeless captures the lives of those existing on the margins of society, people who have drifted between belonging and isolation, freedom and invisibility. Rather than portraying homelessness as a tragedy, Ji observes it as a complex human condition.

Shot with a compassionate eye, The Homeless follows individuals who have, at different points, turned away from society’s structures to create their own fragile sense of freedom. Ji’s observational approach focuses on moments of truth that reveal strength and vulnerability. In doing so, she “tells” us to look beyond labels, to see not the statistics of homelessness, but the human stories within it. The result is an empathetic film that challenges viewers to rethink what it means to belong.

Following the ALULA Film Festival, Ji joined us for a thoughtful conversation about The Homeless, her creative journey, and everything in between.

View of the Arts: In a society that values stability and family responsibility, what moved you to focus on individuals who live entirely outside those systems?

JI Qiuyu: It was by chance that I came across this group of people. In fact, it is precisely because we ourselves exist within a stable social structure that we become curious about such “instability.” We are fascinated by their individual stories—how they entered this wandering lifestyle and how they navigate their self-identity within a social context that emphasizes belonging. Perhaps this stark contrast can help ordinary viewers gain a deeper understanding of the meaning behind things we often take for granted.

VOA: When you encountered stories like his, what emotions or reflections shaped the way you told them on screen? Was there a moment during research or filming that changed how you understood “citizenship” or belonging?

JI Qiuyu: When I first encountered this story, I had already decided to adopt an observational approach. As the filming progressed, I was more convinced. This was a world completely strange to me, and I hoped my lens could objectively capture their authentic stories, free from the influence of my own superficial understanding and preconceptions. My role was to fully immerse myself in observing and documenting. And as we gradually developed a deeper emotional connection, I found myself having to make a conscious effort to restrain my impulse to “participate.”

During filming, there were indeed moments that made me consider the real meaning of belonging. One such moment involved a person who didn’t make it into the final cut — someone who voluntarily left his comfortable, well-off life and began living under a bridge overpass. From then on, nothing in the world had anything to do with him anymore; he was utterly free. While observing his state of being, it struck me in that moment: perhaps the pursuit of belonging outward can be itself a kind of burden? 

Was Xiaolong truly seeking to return to the family? I think he just wanted to find someone who loved him. Maybe it wasn’t about belonging at all, but rather his need for human connection and the feeling of being needed.

VOA: Chinese culture often emphasises collective harmony, yet your film highlights individuals who fall through the cracks of that ideal. How do you reconcile this contrast – between cultural values of social order and the uncomfortable truths your film reveals about exclusion and invisibility?

JI Qiuyu: I did not attempt to reconcile these two. Collective harmony is a noble concept, but to me, discussing the state of the collective without grounding it in specific individuals is meaningless.

VOA: Your direction is unflinching but never exploitative. How did you balance realism with respect – especially when depicting trauma and poverty – so that the characters’ humanity remained at the centre, rather than their suffering?

JI Qiuyu: When I first started filming Xiaolong, I wanted to capture him scavenging for food on the street, as I thought it would be a powerful scene to depict their living conditions. But when I made the request, he said, “Can we not film that? I feel a bit embarrassed.” I immediately agreed. I believe that respecting their wishes is the most important part of the filming process. When working with subjects who may have difficulty expressing themselves, I repeatedly reassure them: “If you feel uncomfortable being filmed, please let me know.”

As for the aspect of hardship, honestly, they seem to find quite a bit of happiness within their own world. What I hope to show everyone is their authentic human state, not to portray them merely as symbols of hardship.

VOA: In one sense, The Homeless is about survival; in another, it is about choice – the decision of some to stay outside society even when given a chance to return. What does freedom mean to you in this context? Do you see it as an act of resistance, despair, or something in between?

JI Qiuyu: The state of freedom manifests itself in these people in a complex way. 

Perhaps it begins as a passive outcome, under pressures from society, family, and the self. They transition from being forced into homelessness to willingly embracing it, and eventually even actively choosing it. They become immersed in this completely unrestrained way of life. This psychological shift may stem from the trauma of repeated failed attempts to reintegrate into society, as well as a fear of complex interpersonal relationships. By living on the margin, they find a life rhythm that is, for them, predictable and controllable – even though this “freedom” is a heavy one.

VOA: Homelessness, as you depict it, is not only a Chinese issue but a universal one. Yet, your film feels distinctly rooted in China’s social realities – the hukou system, migration, and the pursuit of dignity within modern urban life. What message or reflection do you hope the audience will take away from The Homeless?

JI Qiuyu: I simply hope the audience can look past the negative labels we too readily attach without truly understanding them, and instead see each individual’s story. I want viewers to empathize with their struggles, to recognize their vulnerabilities and the subtle resilience they possess. As for more profound reflections, different audiences will naturally form their own interpretations. I would be glad to see viewers enrich the narrative with their diverse perspectives, completing this film through their engagement.

Written and interviewed by Maggie Gogler

Featured image courtesy of JI Qiuyu

_{View of the Arts is an online publication dedicated to films, music, and the arts, with a strong focus on the Asian entertainment industry. With rich content already available to our readers, we aim to expand our reach and grow alongside our audience by delving deeper into emerging platforms such as K-pop and Asian music more broadly. At the same time, we remain committed to exploring the vibrant and ever-evolving global landscape of film, music, and the arts, celebrating the immense talent and creativity that define these industries worldwide.}