翻开，然后呢
One night in Shanghai, Wang Jun tries to pick up a crying girl outside a bar—but maybe he’s just lost, tired, and mistaking someone else’s game plan for his own.
Using a mockumentary approach, the director constructs a subjectively driven narrative with a raw, cinéma vérité quality, portraying a young man in his early twenties as he navigates desire, competition, and interactions with women — appearing repressed and at a loss. The switching between black-and-white handheld shots gradually reveals the protagonist’s deep longing for genuine connection. Set against a soundtrack laced with comedic tones and moments of ambient silence filled by city traffic, he finally takes a step forward — through with a Huabei credit payment. His awkward lines with the woman in the room tightens the uneaseness, hovering on the edge of undelivered victory. Despite the low-budget production, the film does not compromise on performance or pacing. Through shaky close-up shots, the director circles back to the film’s title at the end, posing the question once more to the audience: Retraction, and then what?
