
Spoiler Alert
Bliss Beyond The Edge of Time is a colourful animated anthology that aims to deliver a powerful set of stories about the state of humanity. To paraphrase the official synopsis, the film draws inspiration from six of the I Ching’s 64 hexagrams, also known as the “Book of Changes.” It brings together six original animated shorts that are not simple at all. Here, memories can be erased, identities rewritten and fate re-engineered. The nature of humanity is well explored in context to work which functions as a tool for divination.
The six symbols explored are ䷗, ䷝, ䷑, ䷋, ䷘ and ䷣. Presented in that order, they can be interpreted as Return, Illumination or Fire, Decay, Stagnation, Innocence and The Darkening of the Light. With the last hexagram, not even the most dedicated can decipher what portent it brings if cast. At its heart, this glyph concerns protecting or concealing one’s inner light when faced with a hostile system. Within the context of science fiction, that idea can also extend to suppressed memories, forbidden knowledge and people hiding parts of themselves from systems that aren’t ready to accept them.
For this film, the issues explored include how AI can affect everyday life. Today, this theme is being explored to death and I’m not surprised that there are Chinese filmmakers who have their own ideas, especially with Deepseek being controversial because of privacy concerns. And when scientists are exploring whether the soul can be translated to computer code, that’s a threat!

The distinction between what’s artificial and what’s superficial may be one thread connecting these tales. But in regards to what fascinates me more is the state of Taiwan’s animation industry. And I’m willing to say this out loud: its filmmakers have a lot more complex ideas than those coming out of China as far as theosophy is concerned. When this much thought goes into the story design, rather than letting the artwork do all the talking, that’s a wow to the max!
These tales are quite profound. Their ideas may even challenge what Philip K. Dick’s 1968 novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? suggested about artificial beings and sentient technology. For example, The Last Faith is beautifully constructed in its depiction of where the soul might go after death.
This tale directed by Liu Yu Shu follows an AI seeking divine protection aboard the Pilgrimage Train as it heads toward the Eternal Palace, but the questions it raises remain important. Does it matter if a soul is made of bits rather than energy? Ultimately, we’re all composed of countless tiny electrons firing on all cylinders. The effort put into realizing this vision of the afterlife is richer than in most animated movies I’ve seen so far.
Another work that captivated me was Leo Liao’s Re-Soul. Yes, shades of The Congress can be found here, but this isn’t the same story. In a future where souls can be digitized, the Underworld has become a restricted digital zone. Anyone entering this “Matrix” requires permission. Yara and a Taoist priest must work together to reclaim the spirit of her husband, who has become lost within it. I won’t give away the details, but this is the most poignant work of the lot.

Finally, Jade Lien’s Paradise L05T is perhaps the most gut-wrenching. The end of the world is coming, and Z doesn’t seem to care. He takes his childhood sweetheart, Dorothy, to an abandoned amusement park, and together they have the time of their lives despite knowing that everything will soon end. What makes this film so painful is the decision the boy must make. Does he stay with the love of his life or race to the shipyards just to board a craft to escape the wrath of a black hole. Whether Dorothy can go with him only makes that choice more complicated. It’s a conflict between love and survival, with no painless answer.
As much as I’d love to give each film a full examination, doing so would bloat this review too far. Of the six shorts offered, these three impressed me the most. I’ll probably have to watch the anthology again, perhaps six times, to appreciate all its nuances and its relationship to the I Ching.
Although most of the talent involved may be better recognized regionally than internationally, this film isn’t necessarily a tough sell. The real question is whether everyone will understand its underlying message. Personally, I’d like to know how each piece was developed. Was every director assigned a specific hexagram from the I Ching to interpret, or were they allowed to choose which one they wanted to explore?
As for the works I haven’t talked about, Chiu Li-wei helped shape The Ship of Theseus, Jo-Jo Hwang defined The Poacher, and Leo Liao examined Re-Soul. Together, these talents have crafted a set of tales that evoke discussions of philosophy and humanism while playing a game of mahjong. Finding connections rather than combinations is what matters, and that’s why this film succeeds.
4 Stars out of 5
