d'Review: Big World

d'Review: Big World (2024)

Summary: Big World is a Chinese film directed by Yang Lina. It tells the story of Liu Chunhe, a young man with cerebral palsy, played by Jackson Yee. The film follows Chunhe as he tries to live a full life—one where he can work, study, love, and be accepted for who he is. What makes this movie so powerful is how quietly it unfolds. It doesn’t scream for attention. It doesn’t try to entertain with action or fantasy. Instead, it shows the real world, where people like Chunhe exist and keep going, even when society looks away.

Jackson Yee’s performance is the heart of the film. He plays Chunhe with deep respect and honesty. There is no overacting or pity. You can see the effort in his movements, the tension in his face, and the quiet strength in his eyes. It never feels fake. He spent months preparing for the role, and it shows. His work proves that real acting is not just about memorizing lines—it’s about becoming the character completely.

The story is also about Chunhe’s relationships, especially with his family. His grandmother is the only person who truly believes in him. She gives him love and freedom. After she dies, Chunhe struggles with his mother, who wants to protect him but also controls him too much. Their relationship is hard to watch but feels real. The film never turns anyone into a villain. It just shows how hard life can be when people are different, and how even love can become a cage.

Visually, the film is calm and thoughtful. It uses soft light and quiet streets. There’s no loud music or fast editing. Everything is slow—like Chunhe’s walk, like his thoughts. This gives the audience time to see the small details: a hand trembling, a moment of eye contact, a smile that fades. Director Yang Lina lets the film breathe. She doesn’t try to fix or decorate Chunhe’s life. She just shows it.

Big World is not a perfect film. Some parts are slow. Some characters are not fully developed. But none of that takes away from its message. It’s a film about dignity. About trying. About holding on when the world wants to let you go. For me, the most powerful part of Big World is that it expands the meaning of what it means to be queer.

A Bigger Kind of Queerness

There’s a word that kept coming back to me while watching Big World: queer.

When most people hear that word, they think of LGBTQIA+ identities—people who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or part of any community that doesn’t fit into the traditional mold of gender or sexuality. That meaning is important and valid. But queerness, to me, is bigger than that. It also means being different. Being outside of the box. Not fitting into what society expects. And Big World helped me see that in a way I hadn’t before.

Liu Chunhe is not queer in the way people usually think. The film never says anything about his sexuality. There’s no coming-out moment, no romantic relationship that defines his identity. But he is still queer in the truest sense of the word—because his entire life is a refusal to be “normal.” He doesn’t walk like others. He doesn’t speak like others. He doesn’t learn like others. He doesn’t move at the speed the world wants him to. And yet, he is still here. He is still trying. He is still dreaming.

That, to me, is queerness in action.

Society often tries to make everyone fit into neat, clean boxes. You are either able-bodied or not. You are either fast or slow. Smart or not. Productive or not. And if you don’t fit, the world usually leaves you behind. But Chunhe doesn’t allow that. He keeps showing up. At job interviews, at college auditions, in classrooms, in friendships. Every time he is pushed down, he tries again. His existence pushes back against the idea that only certain kinds of people “deserve” a future.

That is what makes Big World so special. It doesn’t try to “fix” Chunhe. It doesn’t say, “Look at this disabled man who overcame everything and became a hero.” That would be too easy. Instead, it says: “Here is a person who is different. And he is allowed to just be.”

To me, that is a radical idea.

And it’s why I say this film expands the meaning of “queer.” Because queerness isn’t just about love. It’s about refusal. The refusal to disappear. The refusal to be quiet. The refusal to follow a rulebook that was never made for you. Chunhe is queer because his presence breaks the rules. He takes up space in a world that wants him to shrink.

Let’s look at how the film shows this.

Chunhe’s walk is queer. It is uneven, slow, and unsteady. But he walks anyway. Every step is a fight, and every journey takes longer than it should. But he does it. He gets to school. He walks into a job interview. He waits in lines. That walk is not just physical—it is a metaphor for how he moves through life: slowly, carefully, but always forward.

Chunhe’s dreams are queer. He wants to go to college. Not just to learn, but to be part of something bigger. He wants to write poetry. He wants to teach. He wants to contribute to the world. These dreams may seem simple, but for someone like Chunhe, they are acts of rebellion. Society doesn’t expect him to want these things. But he does.

Chunhe’s slowness is queer. In a world that values speed and productivity, he is slow. His speech is slow. His walk is slow. His thinking may be slow too, but it is careful, deep, and emotional. Big World doesn’t rush him. It invites us to slow down too—to match his pace, to feel his rhythm. This is an act of compassion and respect that most films never give.

And most importantly, this queerness is not pathologized. It is not treated like a problem that needs to be solved. There is no magical doctor, no surgery, no miracle cure. The film does not make Chunhe’s goal to “become normal.” It makes his goal to be himself. That, to me, is one of the most powerful things a film can do. To show difference not as something tragic, but as something beautiful and worthy of screen time.

This is why Big World is more than just a drama. It is a statement. A soft, quiet, but powerful message that difference is okay. That queerness is everywhere. Not just in sexuality or gender. But in movement, in pace, in thought, in desire, in ambition.

In a world that tries so hard to flatten us—to make everyone walk the same, talk the same, dream the same—Big World reminds us that it’s okay to live differently. That some of the most important stories come from the edges, not the center.

And Jackson Yee’s performance brings that queerness to life. He doesn’t make Chunhe a symbol. He makes him a person. A full, living, breathing human being who is stubborn, sweet, angry, tired, hopeful, poetic, and sometimes afraid. It’s one of the most honest performances I’ve seen in years.

So yes—Big World is a film about disability. But it’s also about queerness. Not in the limited, boxed-in sense. But in its original, expansive sense. The kind of queerness that says: I exist. I matter. Even if I am not like you.

And that, to me, is one of the most important things a story can say.