We were lucky to catch up with Yihong Exa Huang recently and have shared our conversation below.

Yihong, appreciate you joining us today. What did your parents do right and how has that impacted you in your life and career?

I grew up in Xiamen, a small island city on the southeast coast of China, in an ordinary working-class family. Life there was peaceful and tranquil. My parents were the first generation of intellectuals in our family, and they deeply understood the importance of exploring the world and learning. They often encouraged me to go out, see more, and learn about people who were different from me.

I remember that when times were tough financially, my mother still borrowed money to buy me my first keyboard and loaded the highest-tier library card for me. Life on the island could feel monotonous for teenagers, with few cultural activities to engage in. But I managed to read a lot and, through music, connected with many artists who happened to stop by the island.

Those years shaped much of my attitude toward learning and my openness to life. The influence my parents had on me during that time has been profound and enduring.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

I studied filmmaking in Taiwan and, after graduating from university, gradually moved to Beijing and Shanghai for work and life. During this time, I directed a few short films while also working as a producer at a Hollywood post-production company. Later, I joined Vice, transitioning into full-time creative work. At Vice, I directed films while also producing content for media and brands, focusing on subcultural topics and planning related projects. In addition, I wrote cultural analysis pieces, organized underground music raves, and ran a radio program. Most of my films center around subcultural spaces and individuals.

Young people growing up in an era of information overload often face a disconnect with the physical world, compelling them to carve out their own spaces. Many of these spaces are rooted in an ethos of “anti-consumerism.” Yet, to sustain a media platform or produce a film, one inevitably has to find a way to operate sustainably and gain external support.

How, then, can the idea of anti-consumerism be reconciled with the inherently consumptive nature of media platform? This question underpins much of the work we do: finding neutral and open ways to bridge different worlds, introducing diverse communities, and encouraging audiences to shed preconceived notions and approach understanding from a fresh perspective.

As a creator, my hope is for the subcultures and phenomena portrayed in my stories to receive genuine support and understanding, reaching broader audiences. For readers and brands, most are initially drawn by the external aesthetics or visual style. But through these projects, I aspire to inspire more people to create their ideal selves while simultaneously providing tangible support to the communities represented.

This process has been an endless source of inspiration and material for my narrative filmmaking. I feel incredibly fortunate and grateful to have had such experiences in my life.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

Most of my learning experiences have been rooted in rigorous field research and structured story design as the foundation for creating a film. However, when I first started independently producing short films—especially when I encountered a team like VICE, known for its wild and unrestrained style—it took me some time to dismantle my theoretical framework. I gradually learned to start without overthinking, allowing solutions to emerge through the process. By interacting with the real world and real people, I discovered that the majority of narrative development could happen organically, which greatly helped me adopt a more inclusive and flexible production style.

There was a time when I led a team of forty people to follow and document a secluded community of young people living in the mountains. The simplicity of the local social structure made it difficult to promise specific content while simultaneously carrying out the shoot. Halfway up the mountain, it began to rain heavily, and our team was stuck under the trees, unable to move. Completing the shoot felt like an impossible task.

We started to reflect on our original intention: to capture a way of life that was free and left no burden on the environment. Did this mean that our filming approach should also adapt to align with that principle? Gradually, a conversation began under the rain. The protagonist opened up, sharing deeply personal memories and transitional moments in his life, accompanied by the quiet sound of the rain.

In the end, amidst the unexpected circumstances, we captured some of the most valuable material—what became the film’s pivotal scene. That serendipitous moment of connection and authenticity transformed the project into something far more meaningful than we initially envisioned.

Is there mission driving your creative journey?

The encouragement I’ve received throughout my life comes from people with stories to tell: those who are indecisive, those who believe in everything, those unafraid to take a different path, the naive, the sensitive, and the impulsive. These qualities have shown me the power of curiosity and the courage to break through barriers. Through my work, I hope to capture that pure belief and boldness, serving as a bridge for mutual understanding between people.

Film brings people together for a brief moment, allowing experiences and narratives to resonate with one another. But in the face of a rapidly changing and turbulent world, what can filmmakers truly do? What is the meaning of cinema?

Though a film may only last 90 minutes, and its production may take just one to three months, this seemingly fleeting period can hold profound significance for both the audience and the creators. It’s like falling in love with a person or a place—when we fully understand the choices others make and the situations they face, love begins to quietly connect us all.

Perhaps the best outcome is for everyone to express themselves as sincerely as possible through art. And the shared public memory we build together may ultimately become the true destination of this journey.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/d1g1h1h

Image Credits

Ya-chu Hsu
Qidong Yin
Madi Ju
Kaya Brannen