TOUCH, ME, PLEASE!, 8min., USA
Directed by Xinran Wendy Tong
A 50-year-old woman with Parkinson’s disease, PEACOCK, applies to receive her first sexual service from Hand Angel NICKY. After Peacock’s sister leaves, they secretly meet at Peacock’s home for the first time to plan for the service…

Get to know the filmmaker:

1. What motivated you to make this film?

I was initially inspired by the documentary Still Tomorrow and the raw intensity of Yu Xiuhua’s writing, which expresses desire in a way that feels both vulnerable and unapologetic. That led me to think about how female desire—especially for marginalized bodies—is often silenced.
When I came across the “Hand Angel” organization in Taiwan, I realized this wasn’t only about sexuality, but about dignity, agency, and the right to intimacy. What struck me most was reading volunteers’ journals, where some described these encounters not as acts of charity, but as mutual experiences of connection and pleasure.

That complexity stayed with me. I wanted to make a film that resists pity, and instead explores intimacy as something shared, awkward, tender, and deeply human—especially for women whose desires are often overlooked.

2. From the idea to the finished product, how long did it take for you to make this film?

About five months of active work, though the overall timeline stretched longer due to pauses in between.

I spent around a month on writing and pre-production, followed by a two-day shoot. Post-production took the longest, as I kept refining the film over time. There were also delays due to scheduling conflicts, particularly with editing, which extended the process by several months. Later, I reconnected with a sound mixer and composer, which added another layer of development to the final version.

3. How would you describe your film in two words!?

Intimate. Unsettling.

4. What was the biggest obstacle you faced in completing this film?

One of the biggest challenges was shaping the characters. Although it’s a short film, the characters carry complex inner worlds and layered backstories. Translating that depth into performance within a limited runtime required a lot of precision and trust. I was very fortunate to work with two incredible actors, Wendy Zhuo and Mingjie Zhai, who brought a deep understanding to their roles. Their sensitivity and commitment made it possible to convey that complexity in a subtle and authentic way.

5. What were your initial reactions when watching the audience talking about your film in the feedback video?

My favorite stage is working with actors, especially during rehearsals. I really enjoy the process of discussing the script with them, exploring motivations, and shaping the emotional rhythm of each scene together. It’s often in these conversations that new layers of the characters begin to emerge.

Table reads are particularly meaningful to me. Hearing the script spoken aloud for the first time always changes how I understand it. The actors bring their own interpretations, sometimes revealing nuances I hadn’t fully realized while writing. That exchange feels very alive and collaborative.

For me, directing is less about controlling performance and more about creating a space where actors can explore, question, and build the characters from within. That process is always the most exciting part.

6. When did you realize that you wanted to make films?

It started during my undergraduate years, when I began filming small fragments of everyday life as a way to cope with emotional pressure. Recording and editing those moments helped me process what I was going through, and I realized that filmmaking could be both a creative outlet and a way of thinking.

My background is in documentary, and I’m deeply drawn to reality. But over time, I also became interested in narrative filmmaking. There are certain experiences and emotions that are difficult—or even impossible—to capture through documentary alone. Fiction gives me another space to reconstruct and reimagine those realities in a more expressive way.

7. What film have you seen the most in your life?

Probably Hachi: A Dog’s Story. I’ve watched it many times, and it still moves me every time. I’ve always had a deep love for animals, and there’s something about the film’s simplicity and emotional honesty that really stays with me.

In a way, it also connects to my long-term dream—I would love to make films about animals or even wildlife documentaries in the future.

8. What other elements of the festival experience can we and other festivals implement to satisfy you and help you further your filmmaking career?

Hito Steyerl. I’m deeply inspired by the way she approaches images—not just as visual objects, but as entities that circulate, degrade, and carry political and economic power.

Her work challenges ideas of image “quality” and authorship, which resonates strongly with my own interests. I’m especially drawn to how she blends essay, documentary, and fiction into hybrid forms that feel both critical and poetic.

In fact, my current film Image Exile, which is now in post-production, is directly inspired by these ideas. It explores low-resolution images, memory, and the politics of visual restoration. I think collaborating with her would be an opportunity to further push how I think about images—not just as representation, but as something that can construct, distort, or even resist reality.

9. How has your experience been working on FilmFreeway?

It’s been very smooth and accessible. It lowers the barrier for independent filmmakers to reach a wide range of festivals.

10. What is your favorite meal?

Hot pot. It’s less about the food itself and more about the shared experience.

11. What is next for you? A new film?

I’m currently working on my thesis film, a hybrid documentary titled Image Exile. The project explores low-resolution images, memory, and the politics of visual restoration. It’s a continuation of my ongoing interest in how images carry emotional and cultural meaning beyond their surface quality.

The film follows a collector who preserves forgotten or discarded low-resolution footage, while confronting the growing dominance of AI-driven image restoration. As technologies attempt to “improve” images through interpolation and enhancement, I’m interested in what gets lost in that process—especially the emotional texture, ambiguity, and historical traces embedded in imperfect images.

Formally, the project blends documentary, fiction, and essay elements. It moves between archival materials, staged scenes, and speculative narratives to question ideas of authenticity, memory, and visual truth. I’m currently in post-production.