Big Fish & Begonia

My Rating: [ 6.5 — Good ]

• Chinese Title: 大鱼海棠
• Pinyin: Dàyú Hǎitáng
• English Title: Big Fish & Begonia
• Format: Animated Fantasy Drama Film
• Directors: Liang Xuan (梁旋), Zhang Chun (张春)
• Writers: Liang Xuan, Zhang Chun
• Studio: B&T Studio
• Release Date: July 8, 2016
• Runtime: 105 minutes
• Genres: Fantasy, Drama, Adventure, Romance
• Music: Kiyoshi Yoshida
• Theme Song: “Big Fish” (大鱼) by Zhou Shen
• Original Language: Mandarin Chinese
• Country: China

Big Fish & Begonia is a visually striking fantasy film that works best when viewed less as a tightly structured narrative and more as an emotional myth. The story follows Chun, a girl from a hidden spiritual world who visits the human realm as part of a coming-of-age ritual. During her journey, a human boy named Kun sacrifices himself to save her, and from that point onward the film becomes centered around Chun’s obsessive determination to bring him back to life, regardless of the consequences to herself or the world around her.

That emotional fixation is what carried most of the film for me. Chun’s actions are irrational, selfish, and destructive, but the movie commits so completely to her desperation that it becomes difficult not to understand her perspective even when the consequences keep escalating. What I found especially effective was the way the story gradually turns her personal grief into something much larger. By trying to return Kun to the human world, she is not simply breaking a rule; she is disrupting the balance of an entire realm that operates according to forces she barely understands herself.

The strongest emotional element in the film, however, was probably Qiu. His relationship with Chun adds a layer of tragedy that the movie would feel incomplete without. Much of his role revolves around quietly supporting someone who ultimately cannot return his feelings in the same way. His sacrifices become increasingly painful precisely because the film never dramatizes them excessively. There is something frustrating but believable about the way he continues to stand beside Chun despite knowing where her heart truly lies.

I also appreciated the role of Chun’s grandfather. In many stories of this type, older characters mainly exist to lecture the protagonist or attempt to stop them from making reckless decisions. Here, his attitude feels far more compassionate and human. Rather than trying to completely suppress Chun’s desires, he understands that she has already committed herself emotionally long before the larger conflict begins. His support gives some of the quieter scenes a warmth that helps balance out the heavier and more tragic aspects of the story.

The broader conflict surrounding Kun’s return was another aspect I enjoyed. Once the consequences of Chun’s actions begin affecting the spiritual world itself, the movie takes on an almost mythological scale. Floods, destruction, and the anger of the world around her all create the sense that nature itself is resisting what she is trying to do. Even though the film’s internal rules can sometimes feel vague, the emotional weight behind that opposition still comes across clearly. The story consistently frames her decision as something capable of destabilizing the entire order of existence, which gives the climax much of its intensity.

Visually, the film is probably strongest in its world-building and animation. The spiritual realm feels heavily inspired by Chinese mythology and folklore, and nearly every environment has a dreamlike quality to it. Giant trees, red skies, ocean currents flowing through the heavens, and massive sea creatures all combine to create an atmosphere that feels memorable even when the narrative itself occasionally struggles with pacing or clarity. Many scenes feel designed less around realism and more around emotional imagery, which suits the tone of the story well.

The ending is not really subtle about setting up a continuation. Rather than feeling fully self-contained, the final scenes are clearly structured to lead directly into the next part of the story. Normally that kind of ending can feel unsatisfying, but here it mostly left me wanting more because I had grown attached to both the world and the characters by that point. Knowing that a second film has already been announced makes the ending easier to appreciate in retrospect, even if the wait has been frustrating. From what has been stated so far, the sequel is expected sometime near the end of this year or early next year, so for now all that is left is waiting.

Overall, Big Fish & Begonia is not a perfect film, and parts of its storytelling can feel messy or overly abstract at times. Still, its emotional sincerity, strong visual identity, tragic character dynamics, and imaginative world-building made it memorable for me despite its flaws. Even with some uneven storytelling, it is the kind of film that lingers in your mind afterward more because of how it feels than because of how precisely everything is explained.