Though it doesn’t provide a more holistic view of Chinese society even in the context of work and industry, Ascension remains an impressive collection of images that manage to be both awe-inspiring and disconcerting. The film deliberately chooses not to take a stance on any of the things we see on screen, which makes for a uniquely challenging experience for the active viewer; many images that we might initially describe as dystopian here are usually followed by scenes that remind us of the humanity working within these capitalist structures. What you really end up learning from Ascension may be limited in scope, but getting to see modern life presented this way is still a unique opportunity.
"[A] shockingly incisive, observational nonfiction feature debut."
— Carlos Aguilar
"No matter what your image of modern China, it’s nowhere near complete until you’ve seen it through New York-based, China-observing director Jessica Kingdon’s eyes."
— Peter Debruge
The film explores the pursuit of the “Chinese Dream.” Driven by mesmerizing—and sometimes humorous—imagery, this observational documentary presents a contemporary vision of China that prioritizes productivity and innovation above all.
A documentary observing the work practices of various industries in modern-day China.
No other scene in Ascension lingers in the mind more than the sequence that observes workers at a sex doll factory. There's something simultaneously funny, depressing, and surreal about watching all these women cleaning and painting these life-sized figures of expressionless bodies as if on a conveyor belt. What this sequence implies about not only the kind of work people are willing to do, but the demand for this type of product in the first place is hard to shake. For some people, work like this can be dehumanizing. But for others, work is just work and we're all already totally alienated from the products of our labor.
We should be programming AI for labor like this, not turning them into the worst artists of all-time.
