What makes somebody a filmmaker?

How are they different from, say, a YouTuber?

Not to look down on YouTubers – a skilled content creator can definitely be a filmmaker. But in a world where we are so used to watching somebody’s life up close, their routines and their relationships, all their thoughts in speeches to camera, a film like Naedean makes you think: could this have been a YouTube ‘vlog’? 

Well, why not? The platform is just a medium. But it would definitely be a YouTube video created by a good storyteller, not just an influencer trying to sell you a lifestyle. 

The difference probably lies within the heart of the narrative. NaedeaN is an 80-minute personal documentary written by, directed by, and starring An Chen. In this very intimate film, shot by themselves with a small camera, An uses themselves as a subject to be studied. Who are they? 

The narrative, as we were saying, is powerful and well-built here; An Chen carries us along their inward journey, which begins with a breakup. Ironically, An is looking for their own narrative, and it is precisely this honest search that makes the film so compelling. When it comes to gender, identity in general, and art, they want to find a way to narrate themselves; as they tell their mother, if they don’t define themselves, somebody else will do it for them. 

NaedeaN is interesting because it delivers an utterly powerful testimony. Not only does An turn the camera inwards, but they also shamelessly point it around their life. They put their own body at the service of art. 

The scene of their 30th birthday, where they come out as non-binary to their family, is extremely powerful, real, and honest. For the sake of art and for their own archives, An Chen has something that cannot be repeated or replicated: the recording of the meal where they had that first conversation with their parents. 

When pointing the camera at them, An’s family turns into characters: the strict mother who doesn’t understand, the father who tries to give them tough love, and the brother who acts as comic relief and wants to support them but doesn’t interfere. They are real, flawed characters that try to understand each other – or at least love each other without achieving to sympathise with each other. 

An’s search for themselves is the main question throughout the whole film. We witness their process and their doubts. We can see them changing their hair many times; in the most dramatic haircut, they shave their head for their 30th birthday, horrifying their mother. But An feels liberated; hair is an identity they put on, and without it, they are just themselves. 

In the film, hair also works as a narrative resource, because it is through the different hairstyles that we can track the timeline, through An’s different ‘eras’. 

Self-aware, An asks themselves the questions we might have for them. Who are they? What is Naedean? Why do they film themselves? 

We can kind of glimpse the answer to this last one: an artist looks for themselves in art, and processes life through creativity. Artistic work can be a way to understand and digest everything that happens to them. And by devoting their own body to it, sacrificing their privacy, they can make a difference in somebody else’s life, someone they don’t even know. 

So I guess that is what makes somebody a filmmaker: the power to generate emotion through their work. To build something that works beyond them. And An Chen managed to do this in this small, imperfect, personal film.