Completed in 2023 and made available to the global documentary film circuit last year, Invisible Nation finally found its way to movie screens throughout Taiwan on June 13, 2025 — a Friday the 13th release, to be precise.
Produced
and directed by Vanessa Hope, Invisible Nation was
filmed with the cooperation and encouragement of Taiwan’s first democratically
elected female president, Tsai Ying-wen (whose Administration of the Republic
of China spanned two terms, 2016-2024). Hope could easily be understood as
something of a “China hand,” though she would probably not be comfortable with
the label. Prior to becoming a filmmaker, Hope had been a scholar of
international studies for the Council on Foreign Relations in her hometown of New
York City. She also earned a doctorate from Columbia University.
Fluent in
both French and Mandarin, Hope went on to live for a number of years in
China, teaching
law and learning the ropes as a film producer. Her first major documentary
feature film was All Eyes and Ears, which premiered at the 2015 Tribeca
Film Festival. The year she spent living in Taipei as part of Stanford
University’s Taiwan Studies program probably encouraged her toward what would
become Invisible Nation.
Living in
Taiwan can have that effect on you.
So, what
do you want first: the good reviews or the bad reviews?
Yeah, I’m
that way as well. I always eat the least enticing veggies first, saving the
delicious stuff for the end of the meal so I can leave the table with an
ongoing good flavor lingering in my mouth. Maybe that’s why dessert always goes
at the end of a meal? Anyway …
The Negatives …
A couple of online reviewers have already chimed in with descriptors of Invisible Nation such as “primer” and
“propaganda,” including Leslie Felperin
of The Guardian newspaper and Jay Liu of The Asian Cut website. They are not wrong, but
neither are their assessments meant to be overtly negative.
One Letterboxed commentator also appropriately expressed (in
English) being somewhat disenchanted by the documentary’s manipulative
strengths, going so far as to push audiences (myself included, I confess) to
the brink of tears through its use of “swelling music.” The Letterboxed reviewer
fails to point out that the documentary film’s soundtrack is effective largely
because it combines with visually beautiful imagery — hats off to
cinematographer Laura Hudock and her team.
Some also
noted that the film’s marketing promised “unprecedented access” to President Tsai
but only delivered snippets of her “private” life or personality. And yet, what
is revealed to the English-speaking world about Taiwan’s (now former) president
is delightful, such as Tsai’s confession that at heart she is quite shy and
that as an adolescent she despised politics. What is visually seen of Tsai at
home with her feline and canine pets is too-obviously “staged,” but for the
moment (which is provided in the trailer) of Tsai being interrupted by one of
her cat’s eagerness to be heard. Cat owners around the world will know how it
feels.
More
surprising is Tsai’s statement that “most people” in Taiwan view her as “cold,”
though she believes herself to be quite emotional while having to stifle that
side of herself in public. This is an aspect of Tsai’s public persona I was
never aware of, and yet it is entirely believable. Tsai is highly intelligent
and has always displayed the self-awareness and discipline that benefitted her
as a political leader and diplomat. She tells the director that she can only
speak in English when discussing personal affairs, and must legally, and
sensibly, revert to Mandarin when addressing official matters of state.
(I recall
a YouTube video in which the host [speaking in English] asked her a
politically sensitive question, to which Tsai smiled, wagged a finger, and
said, “They warned me about you.” It was a beautiful moment of diplomatic
humor.)
Online criticisms that Invisible Nation is a pro-DPP (Democratic Progressive Party) piece are surprising, considering how director Hope seemingly went out of her way to try to offer positive images of the Nationalist KMT (Kuomingtang) Party, including comments from Nationalist Party legislator Jason Hsu (許毓仁). The film even offers quotes from former president Ma Ying-jeou that seem to support the ideals of the Republic of China (ROC/Taiwan) as separate in every way possible from neighboring PRC (the People’s Republic of China). (Of late, “Mr. Ma” has turned himself into something of a sock puppet for Beijing.)
The film even
paints a portrait of the KMT’s Chiang Ching-kuo (1910-1988) as a saint of
democracy, a true “Taiwanese,” when he could just as easily be portrayed as the
dictator who lifted martial law (and ended the White Terror Period that his father had overseen with
murderous efficiency for over four decades) only in response to ongoing waves
of popular resistance. Indeed, Chaing Ching-kuo was in charge during the
infamous “Meilidao Incident” (alternatively known as the Kaohsiung Incident,
the Formosa Incident, and the Formosa Magazine Incident) of December
1979 that is given some attention in the film.[i]
When I
bought my ticket to a morning showing of Invisible Nation, I asked how
many others would be in the auditorium with me. Over the past few years, I’ve
become used to being the only one in the room for a morning showing, but I did
worry that a local high school history teacher might be using the film for a
class field trip. The ticket seller told me only seven others had thus far
purchased seats. That was a good turnout for a Monday morning.
When they
finally arrived to see the film, I took note that none of them was of my
“older” generation. All seven were possibly in their late 20s.
It is
important that they were all young adults, as the historical events depicted in
the film might still be somewhat “fresh” to them. Certainly, the period of
transition from dictatorship to democracy would be the stuff of history to
them, while the “Sunflower Student Movement” (2014) might still feel like a
nostalgic memory from adolescence.[ii]
As it was,
my fellow moviegoers stayed in the auditorium with me while the credits rolled.
There must have been something about this documentary that caught their
interest and held them there to the end. Had the audience been older, they
might have been far less absorbed by the film. The older viewer, especially
someone who has a strong interest in Taiwan’s “current events,” would probably
have walked out muttering, “Tell me something I didn’t already know.”
And that’s
where director Vanessa Hope’s Invisible Nation most spectacularly
displays itself as a work for a global audience. It says nothing that a
Taiwanese citizen doesn’t already know from direct experience. Citizens of
Taiwan live every day with the weight of existential anxieties, knowing that China’s
military leaders are practicing for a full-out assault upon the island. China’s
leadership, voicing its plans for a conquered Taiwan through
various outlets, has already promised concentration camps and plenty of
executions.
Invisible Nation is designed for audiences
around the world who, let’s be honest, are in all likelihood already grossly
ignorant of their own national histories and current news, to say nothing of
how little they might know about Taiwan. Offering a source of information about
Taiwan’s present existential crisis — made so much more interesting by the
dramatic soundtrack, the amazing cinematography (better than any tourism video,
I suspect), and the steady contrasts between “democracy” and “totalitarianism”
— is important to Taiwan … and the world (though most of “the world”
probably isn’t aware of it yet).
Unfortunately,
Invisible Nation also comes up short as an “educational” vehicle bearing
a message of tremendous importance. The main shortcoming is that the modern
history of Taiwan is complicated — far too complex for the abbreviated
attention spans of contemporary audiences in the industrial world where
Neoliberal ideals and socioeconomic inequalities have handicapped public
education. Neither is the film’s 85-minute format long enough to include proper
or in-depth explanations for uninformed global audiences.
(Warning:
Curmudgeonly Rant Ahead!)
Technologies
of entertainment combined with the inherited shackles of
anti-intellectualism
seem to be driving entire societies toward ignorance, apathy, cynicism, and
corrupt conspiratorial thinking. It is happening in Taiwan as well, leaving
otherwise intelligent citizens increasingly open to being gulled by malicious
political actors who don’t mind lying to the people.
Invisible
Nation does its
best to cover most of the bases, but cramming all that complexity into less
than an hour and a half for a distracted audience who on a good day confuse
“Taiwan” with “Thailand” does more harm than good — even if the documentary
viewing filmgoer is already a few steps ahead of the general moviegoer in terms
of curiosity, intellectual maturity, and overall “engagement” with current
issues (though that may be changing).
Put
simply, the film’s bullet-point approach will confuse anyone who is not already
somewhat aware of the modern histories of China and Taiwan.
Just look
at all the film touches upon!
Ø
The
Name Game
Sports: Taiwan’s sports teams are not
allowed to compete internationally as representatives of “The Republic of
China” (Taiwan), but must stand as members of “Chinese Taipei” — even when they
see themselves as racially, culturally, or politically as “not China.”
Invisible Nation
Travel: The film points out that the obeisance to Beijing’s demands by corporate organizations such as airlines gives Taiwanese travelers an actual psychic shock when they’ve grown up thinking of themselves as “Taiwan” (or ROC) nationals, only to see that Taiwan is not listed as a nation on ticket purchase websites. Suddenly they have become citizens of a province of China.
Ø
World Participation
Diplomatic
Recognition:
Because of pressure (and economic enticements), countries with diplomatic
relations to Taiwan have officially cut those ties and pulled their embassies
from Taipei to Beijing.
State Participation: Taiwan was forced out of the United Nations in 1971, despite the Republic of China having been a founding member of the organization. The ROC is not even allowed “observer status” in the crucial global organization.[iii] And while Taiwan effectively functions as a nation, it is as of this writing recognized as a nation state by all but a tiny number of national governments such as Belize, Guatemala, Paraguay, Haiti, the Marshall Islands, Palau, and the Holy See (Vatican City). At least the Pope is on Taiwan’s side. So far. (The Tsai Administration has worked hard to maintain strong non-state connections with important world powers, usually through “economic and cultural affairs” organizations.)
Observer Status: With the rising military and diplomatic strength of Beijing, even a number of non-state organizations have refused to allow representatives from Taiwan to “observe,” no less participate or contribute to the organization’s professed projects of improving the welfare of all humans on the planet. Invisible Nation includes the very sad incident — it would be laughable if it wasn’t so serious —of a Canadian epidemiologist with the WHO pretending to “not hear” a journalist’s question about a possible membership for Taipei in the global organization. (Watch a news report of the incident.)
The amazing irony that Invisible Nation points out is that the Tsai Administration smartly oversaw the healthcare and social structures of Taiwan, avoiding infections and preventing mass deaths while the pandemic razed the economies of other nations, killed millions, and crashed entire healthcare systems — all without the help of the WHO (though to its credit, Taipei’s CDC never stopped submitting data to the organization). A commentator in Hope’s film notes the hypocrisy of the WHO with its signature “leave no one behind” principle, while purposely abandoning the 24 million people of Taiwan.
Ø
Oppression
The Punch: Invisible Nation, with the
appropriate dose of overtly ominous musical accompaniment, strives to emphasize
that Taiwan is a small island next to a colossal land mass intent on subduing
and subsuming it. Despite all its domestic crises, the totalitarian state that
is the proudly proclaimed “dictatorship of the Party” continues to plan and
practice a martial takeover of the island and the complete annihilation of the
democratic system and the values of human liberty that have allowed Taiwan to
prosper. China’s great leader is quoted as warning of bloodied, bashed heads for anyone (assumedly in the West)
who resists the “will” of China). The film parallels these threats with the
Tsai Administration’s first steps toward militarily preparing for that
inevitable day of invasion. Hsiao Bi-khim,
who in 2020 left the Legislature to serve as the Tsai Administration’s official
(unofficial) representative to Washington D.C., makes a comparison between
Taiwan and Ukraine. She emphasizes “the commonality of being close to an
oppressive state” while arguing that the goal of good leadership in Taipei is
“to prevent the atrocities” unfolding in Ukraine. Hsiao Bi-khim currently serves as the Vice President of the ROC
alongside President Lai Ching-te.
The Positives …
Though the film is somewhat flawed, Vanessa Hope’s Invisible Nation nevertheless provides some powerful lessons for citizens
of democratic nations around the world. Hopefully everyone who sees this
documentary film is able to catch these aspects and apply them not only to
their own experiences as citizens of democratic, free states. The first of
these is the ability to have a free press that responsibly covers current
events and disseminates that information to the larger public.
Invisible
Nation highlights
this by focusing on the protests that rocked Hong Kong in 2019-2020, and the
savage way these demonstrations were crushed by the police with full backing
from Beijing and the newly imposed (2020) “national security law” that made any
form of protest — including social media posts — highly illegal and punishable
by long terms of imprisonment.
The “One
Country Two Systems” structure of governance agreed upon in 1997 should have
guaranteed the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region greater autonomy in both
legislative affairs and the judicial or penal structures of judgement and
punishment. However, the violent police suppression of the 2019-2020 protests,
the arrests that followed in the months after, and the harsh prison sentences
effectively broadcast to Taiwan the message that Hong Kong no longer enjoyed
the autonomy it had been promised by Beijing.
“The Hong
Kong reaction to protest put to bed the idea of ‘One Country Two Systems’ for
us in Taiwan,” President Tsai told the documentary filmmakers. No longer would
Taiwan’s citizens be so willing to expect any degree of autonomy after watching
so many Hong Kongers get swept into the prison system.
The impact
of the Hong Kong experience found emphasis in the news coverage of China’s
military exercises that encircled Taiwan and even sent missiles sailing
directly over the island. No longer was Beijing able to claim comradery between
the two sides of the Strait, especially as eight years of Nationalist rule (the
Ma Administration) had provided nothing toward China’s goal of taking full
control of Taiwan. When Tsai was elected twice (and again when Lai won the
Executive branch), Beijing put away the poet’s pen and pulled out the phallic
authority of the big gun.
Invisible
Nation points out
that in her first term, Tsai responsibly tried to extend a hand of friendly
cooperation to China’s leadership, only to have it slapped back. There would be
no cooperation or conversation.
For this
challenge, Taiwan has an arsenal that it shares with many other modern
democratic states the world over: its people.
The most surprising quote in Hope’s documentary came from Audrey Tang, Taiwan’s first Minister of Digital Affairs (2022-2024). Already a hero to many for her influence in overseeing the government’s pandemic response and helping to prevent both the spread of misinformation and the calls for a full lockdown. In her too-brief appearance in Invisible Nation, Tang quotes from the chorus of Leonard Cohen’s song “Anthem,” saying: “There is a crack/ A crack in everything/ That’s how the light gets in.”
Chen comes
close to crying before the camera as she caresses the names of people she knew
that are carved upon the Green Island Human Rights Monument. “Every name in
this memorial” represents someone who stood in resistance to fascism and
authoritarianism. “Many generations in Taiwan gave their lives to achieve
freedom,” Chen says. “We all paid an enormous price.”
“Our
democracy is our most valuable asset,” President Tsai says somewhat earlier in
the documentary. But the remembrance and appreciation of that precious freedom
is too easily lost in the tumult of life within capitalist structures of
survival.[v]
With that
in mind, Invisible Nation moves to yet another poignant interview
comment — this time from Freddy Lim (林昶佐), the lead singer of the
internationally popular heavy metal band Chthonic.
In
an interview, Lim speaks of his own days as a student when the educational
system still broadcast a general devaluation of the “local” cultures of Taiwan
while advocating a Sinocentric cultural vision. “School taught us that
Taiwanese culture is trash,” Lim says. He shaped his career as a performer, and
later as a politician, upon the belief that one of Taiwan’s greatest strengths
is its diversity. (Lim is currently, as of this writing in 2025, serving as the
representative of the Republic of China in Finland, a nation where the band
Chthonic is incredibly popular.)
Inarguably,
Taiwan is a multicultural society — a result of historical realities that saw
separate waves of colonization washing over the island for more than two
centuries.[vi] This is part of the
powerful history of Taiwan that very few audiences overseas may be aware of,
and which the brevity of Invisible Nation cannot properly address.
Nevertheless,
the presence of “diversity” in Taiwan is highlighted as a crucial strength for
the democratic future. “Diversity is our highest value,” Tsai says in the film.
This message is emphasized throughout Invisible Nation, and highlighted by
contrasting it with the official (as perceived) state viewpoint of Beijing’s
leadership. The film strives to paint China’s (and the Nationalist) vision of
“Chinese” as “all consuming,” with the “policy” of Sinicization being incapable
of stomaching “difference.”
One aspect
of Taiwan’s diversity is connected to issues of gender and sexual equality.
During her
brief visit to Taiwan, the now-retired House Speaker spoke out favorably about
the role of women in government. For Pelosi, having women in positions of
leadership is “wholesome and transformative.” And while Tsai was not the first
female president in all of Asia, she was one of the most “successful” in terms
of policymaking and development.
During her
time in office, Tsai’s government also allowed for the ground-up marriage
equality movement to achieve its goal of marriage equality. In 2019, Tsai
signed into law a bill allowing same-sex couples to permanently marry and claim
the same rights and legal protections as heterosexual partners. Inarguably, the
Tsai Administration did not at first act forcefully in endorsing the law. The
Nationalist Party even successfully ushered through public referendums
attempting to quash marriage equality, but the Constitutional Court opened the
door for Tsai’s political party and its legislative majority to push through a
bill that the president signed the next day. The public announcement of that
signing, which made Taiwan the first Asian nation to officially recognize
same-sex marriage, is another of the emotionally engaging moments displayed in Invisible Nation.
Vanessa Hope’s documentary film ends on a note of positive anxiety, quoting Tsai as warning viewers that “our existence is daily threatened” by hegemonic ambitions. But Taiwan’s diversity and the historical experience of the people coming together despite their cultural, communal, or personal differences is a guide toward resistance. “We must always stand together,” Tsai says.
[i] I am very surprised the director
did not reach out to Linda Arrigo for an interview, as her experience and
eloquence would have fit in perfectly alongside the Western journalists and
academics whose insights were included. Linda was there alongside Chen Chu [陳菊], the former mayor of Kaohsiung
[2006 to 2018] who was imprisoned for her role in the Meilidao Incident while
and whose participation in Invisible Nation provided one of the film’s
most emotional expressions of the pain experienced by the political prisoners
who survived the White Terror Period.
[ii] Personally, I cannot believe over a decade has gone by since the students took over the Legislature in protest, one of the most effective examples of “people power” and resistance to anti-democratic leaders. It still feels like only “yesterday” that I was taking photos both outside of and inside the occupied legislative chambers.
[iii] In 2016, the UN reportedly even turned Taiwanese tourists away from its New York City headquarters (Wikipedia).
[iv] Forgive me for not knowing who said this. I knew I should have studied shorthand in high school. The speaker was possibly Hsiao Bi-khim.
[v] If anything, it is the very nature of unbridled Neoliberalism — a form of capitalist ideology that raises “greed” as one of the highest of human values — that gives support to anti-democratic systems of governance. This is the message taken from former U.S. House of Representative Speaker Nancy Pelosi, whose visit to Taiwan in August 2022 led to Beijing throwing yet another martial hissy fit of encirclement. Pelosi is quoted in Invisible Nation as saying, “The business community always kowtows to China, and that’s why we’re in this crisis.” Nationalist Party legislator Jason Hsu says something similar: “We made China rich.”
[vi] The first “Taiwanese” were the many aboriginal tribes who warred with and ceded territory to successive arrivals of settler colonists from China (and Europe). Those settlers themselves represented different cultural origins, and all were forced to submit to official Japanese colonization and later the ethnically dissimilar refugees who accompanied the remnants of the Nationalist government after the fall of Beijing to the Communist revolutionaries.