“What We Carry, Carries Us.”
What haunts us is not only death, but aging. Pei-Hua is drawn like a blurred sketch—gray, undefined, embodying the quiet experience of a woman growing older.Mothers often remain fixed in place, becoming a point of reference for their daughters’ journeys. Each of us carries a “carry-on”—unfinished burdens or lessons meant to be faced in this life. When we finally leave, do these carry-ons remain? In the film, a fire becomes a ritual of release, a way of saying goodbye. Life is rarely pure joy or sorrow, and The Carry-On is no exception.
What haunts us is not only death, but aging. Pei-Hua is drawn like a blurred sketch—gray, undefined, embodying the quiet experience of a woman growing older.Mothers often remain fixed in place, becoming a point of reference for their daughters’ journeys. Each of us carries a “carry-on”—unfinished burdens or lessons meant to be faced in this life. When we finally leave, do these carry-ons remain? In the film, a fire becomes a ritual of release, a way of saying goodbye. Life is rarely pure joy or sorrow, and The Carry-On is no exception.
DirectorHsu Li-wen
