Directed and co-written by Taiwanese filmmaker Midi Z (The Road to Mandalay), Nina Wu provides an unforgiving look at the film industry through a feminist lens. Protagonist Nina Wu (played by Wu Ke-xi, who wrote the screenplay with Midi Z) has dreams of making it big as an actress in Taipei. When she finally lands a leading role, she must be subservient and unquestioningly devoted both to her part and to the film’s tyrannical director (Ming-Shuai Shih).
Moving to Taipei, Nina leaves behind her hometown, small theatre company, and lover Kiki (Vivian Sung). After several roles in short films, she is pressured by her agent to audition for a lead role in a highly-anticipated espionage film. The catch: the role calls for nudity and explicit sex scenes. Although it is clear that Nina is uncomfortable with these requirements, she auditions. This is only the first of many decisions to show Nina will do whatever it takes to make it as an actress.
“They’re not only destroying my body, they’re destroying my soul!” The utterance of this line is the viewer’s first glimpse into Nina’s talent. When she gets the role, she is pushed to the breaking point by the director; and as this mantra is repeated by her character, it begins to take on new meaning for Nina in her own life. When trauma resurfaces for the actress in the form of an unsettling woman (Hsia Yu-chiao), Nina is left holding onto her sanity by a tenuous thread.
This layered psychodrama blurs the line between reality and fiction, a style appropriate for the film as it draws upon some of screenwriter Wu’s personal experiences. As layer by layer is pulled back, one thing becomes exceedingly clear: It is men who pull the strings in this industry, while women are pitted against one another. In a twisted convention, women are forced to be complicit in the exploitation of other women.
Nina Wu drives its message home forcefully, without care for how difficult it may be for viewers to receive. There is no tidy resolution, nor should there be for a film whose goal is to sucker-punch its audience with their own present reality. Evocative, unsettling, and raw, this is a worthy addition for LGBTQ, Women-centered, or Foreign Language shelves. Highly recommended.