THE STORY – A girl from a humble fishing village gains the extraordinary ability to stop time through a coveted magical device. Embarking on a thrilling adventure with newfound friends, she explores a fantastical city filled with wonder and danger.
THE CAST – Jia Bing, Huang Bo, Wang Junkai, Zhou Shen & Liu Xiaoyu
THE TEAM – Yu Ao, Zhou Tienan (Directors/Writers) & Shu Yicheng (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 107 Minutes
Every once in a while, a film comes along that feels like it’s pulling from the very fabric of dreams. “The Girl Who Stole Time,” the dazzling directorial debut of screenwriters Yu Ao and Zhou Tienan, is exactly that kind of experience. Making its North American premiere at the Fantasia International Film Festival, this Chinese animated wonder sweeps you into an imaginative, genre-blending world where time can be manipulated – but not without consequences.
It all begins with a breathtaking climb up an icy cliff, where three mysterious figures are on a quest to retrieve an ancient relic: the Time Dial, a powerful device capable of controlling time itself. Their motivations are murky, and their identities – Seventeen, Nine, and Ten – are only revealed much later. They serve Mr. Zuo, a dangerous figure with secrets of his own, and their mission ends in disaster when their greed causes the relic to be lost to the sea.
Enter Qian Xiao, a cheerful and wide-eyed girl from a remote fishing village who dreams of living a life like in the movies. Found washed ashore three years ago with no memory of her past, she now lives for weekly outdoor film screenings and the fantasy of escaping to the glamorous big city she sees on screen. Her voiceover reflects a longing that feels universal: “Time steals everything.” “It never stops running or waits for anyone,” she continues, “We’ve been waiting for such a long time.”
What she has been waiting for is her chance of escape. That moment finally comes in the form of a steamboat that arrives on the island. She stows away on the boat and can’t contain her excitement about what is beyond the horizon. But this excitement ends as she is swept into a catastrophic ship collision. In the wreckage, she comes into contact with the lost Time Dial. What seems at first like a fantastical gift soon becomes the axis on which her entire story spins. Suddenly, she can pause and restart time. Her dreams are now in her hands.
Then, a familiar scene: she washes up on a beach. But this one is on the edge of the big city. She’s finally there – a richly imagined, 1930s-style metropolis inspired by the grandest European skylines. Qian Xiao wastes no time in causing a bit of mischief. She zips through the streets, dodges cops and criminals, and uses the Time Dial to experience all of the city’s beauty. But she’s also now the target of a powerful criminal organization that wants the Dial back, and she just happens to bump into Seventeen, one of its coldest, most precise assassins.
Yet nothing about Qian Xiao’s energy can be contained. Her firecracker personality clashes comically with Seventeen’s ice-cold demeanour, and their odd-couple dynamic evolves into something deeper and warmer as they embark on a journey that’s part caper, part documentary, and eventually, an unexpected love story.
At one point during Qian Xiao’s first day in the city, she spots a new camera in a shop window but has no money to buy it. She wants to make her own movie about her big city experiences. Seventeen agrees to help her get money for the camera, which involves some thievery at the poker table. This leads them to meet the eccentric amateur director Amu, who agrees to shoot Qian Xiao. She’ll finally get to feel like she’s in the movies.
The Time Dial becomes more than a plot device: it’s a metaphor for grief, memory, and letting go. As the narrative unfolds, it becomes clear that Qian Xiao didn’t just find the Dial – she was chosen by it. The more she uses it, the more it intertwines with her being. Her powers are thrilling at first (and gorgeously animated), but the emotional weight starts to build. Time isn’t meant to be paused forever, and some moments, no matter how perfect, must end. The film’s emotional core, inspired by the directors’ own experience with loss, resonates in subtle and striking ways. This isn’t just about pausing time to escape. It’s about cherishing what time gives us: connection, companionship, love.
Visually, “The Girl Who Stole Time” is among the most stunning animated films in recent memory. The production and character design are sublime, mixing ornate cityscapes with bursts of fantastical energy. The score shifts effortlessly between sweeping orchestral themes, nostalgic musical motifs, and a rebellious splash of rock and roll. The voice cast delivers performances full of nuance and humour.
Though the story takes time to settle into its emotional stride, the payoff is worth it. The romance, which at first feels unlikely, blooms into something heartfelt. Seventeen, hardened by a life of crime and abandonment, finds in Qian Xiao not just companionship but a glimpse at the life he never knew he wanted. Her hope softens his fear. His stillness grounds her restlessness.
In the end, “The Girl Who Stole Time” leaves us with a reminder that the most impactful film is the one we create for ourselves. The film of life is no doubt the most cinematic. Some moments we experience in our own lives are so profound we wish to live in them forever, like a film reel on a loop. But while movies end, what’s important is who you watch them with.
