The Directors’ Fortnight, a parallel program within the Cannes Film Festival, has long been one of the world’s most respected platforms for innovative and independent cinema. Established in 1969 by the French Directors Guild, the section is renowned for spotlighting distinctive cinematic voices and has hosted landmark films by auteurs such as Martin Scorsese and Werner Herzog. Its curatorial emphasis on artistic freedom and distinctive cinematic voices has made it a key platform for filmmakers who challenge conventional storytelling.
At the 2025 Directors’ Fortnight in Cannes, When the Geese Flew made a powerful impression, in no small part thanks to the evocative cinematography of Zhejian Michael Cong. The film was praised by critics for its emotional clarity and lyrical restraint. Amber Wilkinson of Eye for Film called it “an accomplished short with the heart and soul of an American indie,” highlighting how the camera stays close to the protagonist’s shifting emotions. Stephen Saito of The Moveable Fest similarly noted that Cong’s lens “finds the beauty of Cyrus finding his wings,” emphasizing the film’s graceful emotional arc and understated power.
Directed by Arthur Gay, this quietly riveting short tells the story of Cyrus, a teenage boy desperately trying to recover his sister’s stolen dirt bike in a last attempt to keep her from leaving home. Under Cong’s lens, the film transcends narrative realism to evoke a raw, tactile emotional experience. Cong’s cinematography in When the Geese Flew stands out not only for its visual beauty, but for the profound intentionality behind every shot. From the outset of pre-production, Cong and the director made a decisive choice to shoot on 16mm Kodak film, opting specifically for the 7219 500T stock. This decision was not merely aesthetic; it was philosophical.
“The moment the camera starts rolling, everyone is aware that real film is passing through the gate, that every second costs money,” Cong reflects. “So, the entire cast and crew becomes so focused.”t
That sense of gravity is deeply felt throughout the film: each frame hums with an intensity and presence that digital formats often fail to capture.
The grain and sensitivity of the 500T stock proved crucial in visualizing the story’s emotional terrain. Set in a small town marked by quiet desperation and looming departure, the film’s atmosphere needed to feel simultaneously intimate and unflinching. Cong’s cinematography answers that challenge with grace. The lighting transitions, moving seamlessly between interiors and stark exteriors, are executed with a deft touch, while the textured grain imparts a kind of brutal lyricism to the visuals. The world Cong renders is at once grounded and fragile, mirroring the film’s central themes of adolescence, loss, and the painful act of letting go.
Critics also pointed to the film’s deep sense of place, with Twizel, New Zealand serving as a quiet yet potent character. The barren seascapes and stark interiors do not merely serve as backdrops, but echo the protagonist’s inner desolation, further blurring the line between fiction and lived reality.
This was Arthur’s first time shooting on film, and Cong’s experience and calm confidence proved essential. “Time and again, I reassured him: ‘Have some faith,’” Cong recalls. The sentiment of faith is more than just a backstage anecdote. It’s a creative ethos that defines Cong’s body of work. Trained initially as a cinematographer and later as a director at Columbia University, Cong brings a rare dual fluency in image and emotion. His approach is not about spectacle, but about resonance: capturing those fleeting, unscripted moments when something real breaks through.
Indeed, When the Geese Flew fits seamlessly into Cong’s critically recognized filmography, which includes celebrated shorts like Windy Days and Stranded, and his directorial debut Midnight Sun, a quiet but unflinching meditation on masculinity and vulnerability. Across these works, Cong returns again and again to the immersive, emotionally honest visual language that has become his hallmark. His cinematography is not just technically accomplished—it is guided by an intuitive understanding of how to shape rhythm, tone, and silence into something deeply human.
To see Cong’s work recognized on a global stage like Cannes is both fitting and overdue. When the Geese Flew is not only a technical achievement but also an artistic statement—a reminder that faith in one’s tools, collaborators, and instincts can lead to extraordinary cinema. The film’s resonance lies not in overt drama, but in its ability to transform intimate human experiences into universal emotion. In a festival season filled with bold voices, Zhejian Michael Cong’s vision stood out for its quiet power, lyrical precision, and unwavering integrity—marking him as a filmmaker whose voice resonates far beyond national or stylistic boundaries.