Chinese auteur Jia Zhang-Ke’s latest film Caught by the Tides is a lot like his earlier films; not tonally or structurally, but somewhat more literally. A blending of past and present into a meta concoction that carries equally narrative and documentary qualities, Caught by the Tides isn’t a film for those unfamiliar with Zhang-Ke’s previous works. While it tells an effective love story that spans decades, those without a deeper appreciation for the filmmaker and his closest collaborators will find themselves at a distinct disadvantage when approaching Caught by the Tides. But for the familiar, and most importantly for Zhang-Ke himself, this is a forward thinking, contemplative, and ingenious stylistic exercise. It’s far from his best, but certainly one of his most interesting works.
The story here is a loose one that’s up to interpretation for the most part: a woman (Zhao Tao) is searching for the lost love of her life (Li Zhubin). If these characters and scenarios seem familiar right out of the gate, that’s because Caught by the Tides is largely comprised of repurposed footage from the past 23 years of Zhang-Ke’s career, one where Tao (his real life wife) and Zhubin have been common threads. Tao, who will occasionally sing, but never speaks, plays a character that has popped up in several prior Zhang-Ke films, from 2003’s Unknown Pleasures to 2018’s Ash is Purest White.
For Caught by the Tides, Zhang-Ke combs through his career and cobbles together a story that speaks to the nature of change, both in people and the world around them. As such, the through-line often plays a bit like a clip show until the final third, where most of the new footage lies. Zhang-Ke began assembling Caught by the Tides during the pandemic, and the whole project feels at times like a creative person doing their best to stay sharp under unprecedented conditions. On a narrative level, this doesn’t work as well as any of Zhang-Ke’s other films, but the plot isn’t the point here.

From its opening blast to its bittersweet conclusion, Zhang-Ke creates an ode to past ways of life that refuse to go away entirely, no matter how much the world and its people change. The roots remain long after the plants sustained by them have disappeared, and reminders of the past haunt the characters at every turn, informing and confounding their lives. The Chinese settings, soundtrack choices (of which Zhang-Ke has always been a master), and socioeconomic trappings lend the film a documentary quality, like watching a story unfold inside of amber. Zhang-Ke pines for days when camaraderie and togetherness were more prevalent, and carefully watches the rise of capitalism within China (most notably with the staging of a glorified beer ad disguised as Olympics boosterism and again with a killer Tik-Tok joke).
Methods of communication change, and so too do the ways people seek out their entertainment. In addition to the obvious changes in aspect ratios throughout Caught by the Tides, one can most easily follow along with Zhang-Ke via his cultural touchstones, which are presented in both their original format and in a style closer to the kinds of films the director has been making in this latter half of his career. Unlike his early films which took place largely in the moment and a smaller, more finite period of time, Caught by the Tides unfolds in a manner closer to Ash is Purest White and Mountains May Depart, spanning years. Performers age, technology and tastes change, but in Zhang-Ke’s examination of Chinese culture thorough the lens of a pining love story, the filmmaker lays bare a culture where decay and rot are left out in the open instead of repaired because to make something new would be seen as somehow inauthentic.
That’s a pretty great joke and perceptive observation for the overall state of cinema today. Zhang-Ke openly admits that there’s nothing particularly new about his latest from a nuts and bolts perspective, but the form is what’s most interesting here. It’s abstract in its storytelling, but the intent is clear for those versed in his style of filmmaking. It almost doesn’t come together, with the final stages feeling more like a demarcation point for another, more original project than everything that came before it. One wishes they could see where this story could’ve gone if allowed to stand on its own and away from the obvious influence of Zhang-Ke’s other works. But overall, the effort and thought that Zhang-Ke puts into Caught by the Tides worth keeping up with and reflecting upon alongside its creator. It’s not in any way for the unfamiliar, but as a compendium of footnotes on a life in cinema, Caught by the Tides is fascinating.
Caught by the Tides opens in Toronto at TIFF Lightbox, Montreal at Cinéma de Musèe and Cinèmatheque Québecois, and VIFF Centre in Vancouver on Friday, May 9, 2025. It expands to additional Canadian cities in the following weeks.
