圖片出處：原住民族電影學院 Indigenous Film Academy of Taiwan
終於看到突破用紀實性呈現台灣原住民族信仰議題的影像創作，因過往即便是劇情片或影集，觸碰到原有信仰等內容都還是會落入紀錄片的手法呈現，時常打亂劇情片的故事節奏，如今看到一部以劇情片的方式呈現當代信仰價值困境的電影非常興奮。
關於基督信仰原鄉部落在20世紀因為歷史因素大量的接受基督宗教，更被稱為「20世紀的神蹟」，而這樣的過程在不同地區、部落及群體都有所差異，並非主流敘事的單方面傳教及物資所呈現當代的結果，這部分從片中可以看到Yawi的孫子去世時請牧師到家裡慰問的重要意義，以及後續的基督教儀式，當然也看到其中一位家人在床邊放腳尾飯，應該是信仰台灣民間信仰，這段我非常有共鳴，我父親過世用基督教的儀式，但每天我們依舊照三餐準備飯食放在他的遺照前，甚至我姊姊出嫁，長輩要我用竹籤插塊豬肉放放在家門上，讓祂（我父親）知道這件事情並保佑一切順利，這樣拼貼及雜揉的情形其實常常在原住民族家庭發生。
整體節奏偏快，很喜歡小祖靈Yawi這演員在鏡頭下的肢體及表情，可以說是非常的自然，故事主軸主要是祂去看即將離世的孫子，對話中可以看到祖孫二人對於死後世界的需求不同，Yawi（早夭）希望能過彩虹橋並在廣闊的獵場狩獵，而祂的孫子因為基督信仰與牽掛，希望上天堂與妻子和父母見面，台詞中最重要的是「真正的泰雅人」，也叩問Yawi與祂的孫子「我們是泰雅人」嗎？而什麼是「真正的泰雅人」。
而什麼是「真正的泰雅人」或許才是這部電影的核心關懷，當代的原住民族的樣貌是否可以經過考驗過那彩虹橋呢？還是像Yawi的孫子沒有紋面並信仰基督宗教，還是像精心設計的海報及片頭片尾，Yawi也沒有紋面及受過文化洗禮他待在橋邊，永遠無法跨過那橋，而現代的汽車卻可以快速地通過，這畫面在我眼中極其諷刺，或許導演已給出了答案。
整部電影還是有不少有些多餘及尷尬的片段，以及Yawi出現時的畫面與他出現在孫子旁的畫面，沒有做很好的設計，應該一致，才可凸顯靈、人交疊的時刻，我自己是無法接受Yawi與孫子見面時的柔光特別亮，但這一幕的配樂畫龍點睛，讓Yawi的聲音用口簧琴代替，甚至祂移動或搬動祂孫子時用扎實的鈴聲做背景，這樣的音樂及故事文化背景緊密且生動。
我其實看過劇本，劇本非常完整，我也非常喜歡，或許這就是劇情片的難度，唯一可惜的是沒有好好呈現Yawi與祂孫子的對話內容，這樣的思辨，或許會為本片增加深度及反思，這可惜的部分也可能是本片重要的，對話與思考自己是誰，誰又是真正的泰雅人。
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It's thrilling to finally see a cinematic work that breaks new ground in portraying the spiritual issues of Taiwan’s Indigenous peoples through narrative drama rather than documentary realism. In the past, even feature films or TV series that touched upon traditional beliefs often reverted to a documentary style, disrupting the rhythm of storytelling. To see a film that tackles the contemporary dilemmas of faith and belief within an Indigenous context through the form of a drama feels truly exciting.
In the 20th century, many Indigenous communities in Taiwan embraced Christianity due to historical circumstances — a phenomenon often described as “the miracle of the century.” Yet, this process differed across regions, villages, and groups, and was far more complex than the dominant narrative of one-sided missionary work or material aid. The film captures this nuance beautifully: when Yawi's grandson passes away, the family invites a pastor to offer comfort — an act loaded with meaning — and the subsequent Christian rituals unfold. Yet, we also see a family member quietly placing a bowl of rice at the bedside, a gesture rooted in local folk belief. I resonated deeply with this moment. When my father passed away, we held a Christian funeral, yet we still offered meals before his photo three times a day. When my sister married, our elders asked me to stick a piece of pork on the door with a bamboo skewer — to let him, my father, know about it and bless the event. This kind of layering and blending of beliefs often occurs in Indigenous families.
The overall pacing of the film is brisk. I was especially drawn to the young ancestral spirit Yawi — the actor's body language and expressions felt incredibly natural. The story revolves around Yawi visiting his dying grandson. Through their conversation, we see two contrasting visions of the afterlife: Yawi, who died young, hopes to cross the rainbow bridge and hunt in vast spiritual plains, while his grandson, shaped by Christian faith and family bonds, wishes to ascend to heaven and reunite with his loved ones. The key line — “a true Atayal” — prompts the question between them: Are we Atayal? What does it mean to be a “true Atayal”?
Perhaps that question — What is a true Atayal? — lies at the very heart of this film. Can the contemporary Indigenous person still cross the rainbow bridge? Or, like Yawi's grandson, who has no facial tattoos and follows Christianity, has that connection been lost? In the film's striking poster and its opening and closing scenes, even Yawi — without tattoos or cultural initiation — stands stranded at the bridge, unable to cross, while a modern car speeds effortlessly across it. To me, that image is deeply ironic, perhaps even the director's answer.
Of course, the film isn't without flaws. Some scenes feel redundant or awkward, and the visual design between Yawi's appearances — as spirit and beside his grandson — lacks consistency. It should have been more unified to emphasize the overlapping of spirit and human worlds. I personally found the overly bright soft lighting during their reunion a bit off-putting. However, the score redeems the moment: Yawi's voice is replaced by the sound of the mouth harp, and when he moves or touches his grandson, solid bell tones accompany him — an ingenious musical choice that tightly interweaves sound, story, and culture.
I've actually read the screenplay — it was complete and I loved it. Perhaps this shows the challenge of translating such material into film. The only real regret is that the film didn't fully explore Yawi's dialogue with his grandson. That philosophical exchange could have added greater depth and reflection. Yet, this very absence may itself be meaningful — for at the core of the film lies that silent question: Who am I? and Who is truly Atayal?
