I first came across Taiwan through its cinema. In the late 1990s, I began watching Taiwanese films. As they were always aired late at night, I watched them half-awake. They became fleeting visions—fragments of an unfamiliar place that lingered long after the screen went dark. Long before I ever set foot in Taiwan, these films shaped my imagination of the island. Many years later, when I finally had the chance to visit, I was struck by a quiet sense of recognition. Scenes once confined to the frame emerged in front of me: neon-lit nights recalling Millennium Mambo, tiled buildings layered with signage as in Taipei Story, and elevated highways cutting through the city like those in What Time Is It There? Taiwan reveals itself through contrasts, modernity and tradition woven together. Lush landscapes press against dense urban forms; narrow alleys stretch domestic life into the streets. Wandering these passages, a softly glowing Taoist temple may appear unexpectedly. At night, neon lights draw new patterns, while night markets fill the air with color and scent.

Luca Tommasi