Tsui is framing this as a beautiful, unified legacy where personal loss fuels professional innovation, showcasing his resilience and forward-thinking vision for global cinema.
Insiders say Tsui’s comments on AI weren't just philosophical musings; he’s genuinely rattled by the 'ridiculous' nature of synthetic media, suggesting a deep-seated fear that art is losing its soul to algorithms.
Nansun Shi died on July 13, 2026, at age 75. Tsui co-founded Film Workshop with her in 1984. At the Lumière Festival, he stated: 'I think it’s getting more ridiculous now that we have AI in our culture.'
Tsui Hark isn't just mourning his ex-wife; he’s sounding the alarm that AI is making us passive and questioning our very reality.
The atmosphere in Lyon was thick with sentiment as Hong Kong cinema icon Tsui Hark took the stage at the Lumière Film Festival this Sunday. In a moment that visibly shook the usually stoic director, Tsui paid a raw, emotional tribute to Nansun Shi, his former wife and the legendary producer who helped build his empire. Shi, who passed away on July 13 at the age of 75, was more than just a collaborator; she was the co-founder of Film Workshop alongside Tsui in 1984, the powerhouse behind classics like "Shanghai Blues" and "Once Upon a Time in China." Tsui, clearly struggling to find his words after a career retrospective montage, admitted, "I miss my partner, Nansun, who helped me on so many projects over so many years," noting that his presence in France was itself a homage to her spirit.
But don’t let the tears fool you; Tsui didn’t just come to Lyon to look back. He dropped some major tea on the current state of cinema and technology. While discussing a new comedy project set in London that aims to bridge Eastern and Western cultures, Tsui pivoted to a scathing critique of Artificial Intelligence.
He described the current cultural landscape as one where the lines between truth and fabrication are dangerously blurred by advertising, propaganda, and AI-generated content. "We are being very passive to our environment," Tsui declared, suggesting that modern audiences have lost their agency, stating bluntly, "We have a problem with our identity." The director’s frustration with AI was palpable and specific. He didn’t just dismiss the tech; he called it out for creating a surreal, unsettling existence.
"I think it’s getting more ridiculous now that we have AI in our culture," Tsui said, highlighting the core anxiety plaguing creators today: "The funny part of AI is that you’re not sure whether what you see is real or not real." This uncertainty, he admitted, frightens him, leading to a philosophical crisis where waking up no longer guarantees a connection to reality. He confessed he has "no idea what the next five years would bring," a rare admission of vulnerability from a filmmaker known for always thinking five steps ahead.
Despite the gloom surrounding AI and the chaos of global issues like viruses and economic instability, Tsui remains committed to the power of humor. He revealed plans to create dreamlike, futuristic versions of cities like Hong Kong or Beijing, using cinema to inject a sense of wonder back into a world he sees as increasingly absurd. "The world is so chaotic," he reflected, questioning how humanity can survive the current onslaught of crises. Yet, his solution remains classic Tsui: use film to entertain and "inject humor into our belief that the world is still a wonderful place to live." For now, fans can catch his legacy at the festival, which runs through October 18, featuring screenings of his seminal works like "Peking Opera Blues" and "Time and Tide."
