Today we’d like to introduce you to Weiqi Cai.
Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
I started my journey in storytelling long before I ever touched a camera. As a child, I was drawn to visual narratives—comics, animation, and films—because they offered ways of seeing the world that felt larger, deeper, and more emotionally honest than ordinary life. That early fascination eventually led me to study animation in college. Through animation, I learned the fundamentals of visual language: character, rhythm, acting, and world-building. But during my studies, I discovered that what truly moved me was live-action filmmaking. It felt closer to human complexity, and I became increasingly drawn to it.
Transitioning into film wasn’t easy. I had no background in film production, so I taught myself by reading filmmaking books, watching films repeatedly, and shooting small projects whenever I could. For a long time, I didn’t dare tell anyone I dreamed of becoming a director—it felt like a sacred title, something I wasn’t worthy of yet.
A turning point came unexpectedly when I fell seriously ill during my postgraduate studies. While waiting for medical results, I asked myself what I would do if the news was bad. The answer was immediate and instinctive: I would go home, spend time with my family, buy a camera, and start filming the people and stories I cared about. That moment showed me how essential filmmaking was to me—something I would choose even when facing fear and uncertainty. Fortunately, I recovered, but the clarity from that experience stayed with me.
Since then, I’ve devoted myself fully to filmmaking. I moved to the U.S. to study film more deeply and began creating short projects that pushed my craft and confidence. My films have explored themes of memory, identity, grief, and imagination, and some have been selected by international festivals, including Oscar-qualifying events.
Today, I continue working as an independent director focused on visually driven, emotionally intimate stories. Each project feels like another step toward understanding the world—and sharing that understanding with others.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
It definitely hasn’t been a smooth road. I don’t think filmmaking ever is. The journey is full of uncertainty, and every step requires a mixture of persistence, humility, and acceptance.
One of the biggest challenges early on was simply believing that I had the right to pursue directing. Coming from an animation background with no formal film training, I often felt unqualified. I had to teach myself everything—how to work with actors, how to design scenes, how to collaborate with each department. Every production felt like a test of whether I truly belonged in this world.
Another ongoing struggle has been the emotional and psychological pressure. As a director, you’re responsible for the vision, the team, the performances, and the final coherence of the film. When problems arise on set—as they inevitably do—everyone looks to you for solutions. That constant demand for clarity can be overwhelming, especially when you’re still learning and growing.
Financing has also been a major obstacle. Independent filmmaking requires a delicate balance between creative ambition and financial reality. Securing resources for each project—especially feature-length work—is incredibly difficult, particularly in the current economic climate and as an Asian director navigating a global industry. I often support myself through commercial work while using whatever time and funding I can gather to make my own films.
Despite these struggles, each obstacle has shaped me. Every failed attempt, each delay, and every period of uncertainty has forced me to sharpen my craft, rethink my approach, and stay passionate about why I create films in the first place. The road hasn’t been smooth, but it has been meaningful—and it continues to guide me toward the filmmaker I want to become.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I’m a film director who specializes in visually driven, emotionally intimate storytelling. My work often explores memory, identity, and the fragile space between reality and imagination. I’m drawn to characters who live at the margins—psychologically, culturally, or socially—and I try to understand the world through their eyes.
What excites me most about filmmaking is the ability to translate internal experiences into cinematic language. Whether through fragmented memory structures, subjective camera perspectives, or carefully composed imagery, I try to create films that feel like emotional landscapes rather than straightforward narratives. I want audiences to sense the world the way my characters do—to question what is real, what is imagined, and what lies in between.
In terms of craft, I’m known for blending stylized visual storytelling with grounded human emotion. I often experiment with multiple layers of image—such as DV textures, hallucination perspectives, or time-dislocated memories—to blur boundaries and challenge the viewer’s perception. At the same time, I prioritize authenticity in performance and emotional truth; I believe the heart of a film always comes from the characters.
One project I’m particularly proud of is End of Summer, a short film inspired by the distance and grief I felt when my grandmother passed away. It was my first time working with child actors, complex visual effects, and a larger production team, and that film went on to screen at international festivals, including Oscar-qualifying and Canadian Screen Awards–nominated events. It taught me that personal stories—no matter how small—can resonate widely when told sincerely.
What sets me apart, I think, is my hybrid sensibility: I come from an animation background, which gives me a strong foundation in visual rhythm, composition, and imagination, but I direct with an instinct for intimate realism. I try to balance the poetic with the raw, the surreal with the deeply human. My goal is to create films that linger—images and emotions that stay with the audience long after the credits finish.
If you had to, what characteristic of yours would you give the most credit to?
I think the quality that defines my work the most—and has shaped any success I’ve had—is a deep inner sensitivity to images, emotions, and the invisible forces that shape human experience. I approach filmmaking not just as storytelling, but as a way of understanding the world. That sensitivity allows me to notice small emotional tremors, fragments of memory, or fleeting contradictions that later become the foundation of my films.
Another essential quality is my insistence on maintaining a personal vision. As an auteur, I’m drawn to cinematic languages that blur boundaries—between reality and imagination, memory and present, the conscious and the subconscious. Holding onto that distinct perspective, even when resources are limited or external pressures push me toward safer choices, has been crucial. It means each project reflects an inner logic and emotional truth that I cannot compromise.
Lastly, I rely heavily on my ability to translate internal experience into visual form. Much of my work begins with sensations rather than plots—textures, sounds, or a specific visual rhythm. This instinctive process guides the way I design imagery, work with actors, and structure narrative time. It’s what allows my films to feel intimate, subjective, and emotionally layered.
In short, I move through the world with a director’s way of seeing—intuitive, patient, and deeply attuned to the inner lives of people. That worldview, more than anything else, is what shapes my identity as a filmmaker.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://weiqicai.webflow.io/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/weechee_cai/
