01 / FILM
2026
AN ECHO, STILL
2026 · SHORT FILM · 5’44”

OFFICIAL TRAILER
30 SEC
SYNOPSIS
A woman lights a lamp. A shadow answers. For a while, the world holds. Then something begins to slip. Light and shadow no longer fall where they should, and the world quietly loses its shape. As the disturbance deepens, an ancient presence emerges.
A woman lights a lamp. A shadow answers. For a while, the world holds. Then something begins to slip. Light and shadow no longer fall where they should, and the world quietly loses its shape. As the disturbance deepens, an ancient presence emerges.
SELECTED STILLS





CREDITS
WRITTEN, DIRECTED & EDITED
Lanjian Wang
ART DIRECTION & ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATION
Lanjian Wang
GENERATIVE AI VISUALS & ANIMATION
Lanjian Wang
SOUND DESIGN, SFX EDITING & RE-RECORDING MIX
Lanjian Wang
ORIGINAL MUSIC
Kefei Jin
DIRECTOR’S STATEMENT
An Echo, Still is an original animated short that I wrote and directed, independently creating its visuals, animation, editing, and sound design. It began with a very personal feeling: the desire to keep someone present after their place in my life had already become a memory. What interested me was not grief as tragedy, but the moment when tenderness begins to disturb the order that makes the world possible. Rather than treating that feeling realistically, I imagined it as a disturbance in a mythic world governed by light, shadow, and disappearance. If longing could literally prevent something from fading, what would that refusal begin to do to the world around it?
My background is in illustration, and I have always thought through images before thinking through cameras. In this film, I wanted line, color, movement, sound, and rhythm to behave as parts of the same world. Landscapes grow into other landscapes; smoke, water, light, and shadow transform continuously; beauty gradually begins to deform, allowing distortion to emerge from within rather than arrive as an external threat. The visual world is not simply a setting for the story—it is the emotional and structural body of the story itself.
At its core, An Echo, Still is about a simple and human refusal: the wish for someone—or something—to remain a little longer, and the violence hidden inside the desire to preserve something beautiful even as its continued presence begins to undo the world around it.
An Echo, Still is an original animated short that I wrote and directed, independently creating its visuals, animation, editing, and sound design. It began with a very personal feeling: the desire to keep someone present after their place in my life had already become a memory. What interested me was not grief as tragedy, but the moment when tenderness begins to disturb the order that makes the world possible. Rather than treating that feeling realistically, I imagined it as a disturbance in a mythic world governed by light, shadow, and disappearance. If longing could literally prevent something from fading, what would that refusal begin to do to the world around it?
My background is in illustration, and I have always thought through images before thinking through cameras. In this film, I wanted line, color, movement, sound, and rhythm to behave as parts of the same world. Landscapes grow into other landscapes; smoke, water, light, and shadow transform continuously; beauty gradually begins to deform, allowing distortion to emerge from within rather than arrive as an external threat. The visual world is not simply a setting for the story—it is the emotional and structural body of the story itself.
At its core, An Echo, Still is about a simple and human refusal: the wish for someone—or something—to remain a little longer, and the violence hidden inside the desire to preserve something beautiful even as its continued presence begins to undo the world around it.
An Echo, Still is an original animated short that I wrote and directed, independently creating its visuals, animation, editing, and sound design. It began with a very personal feeling: the desire to keep someone present after their place in my life had already become a memory. What interested me was not grief as tragedy, but the moment when tenderness begins to disturb the order that makes the world possible. Rather than treating that feeling realistically, I imagined it as a disturbance in a mythic world governed by light, shadow, and disappearance. If longing could literally prevent something from fading, what would that refusal begin to do to the world around it?
My background is in illustration, and I have always thought through images before thinking through cameras. In this film, I wanted line, color, movement, sound, and rhythm to behave as parts of the same world. Landscapes grow into other landscapes; smoke, water, light, and shadow transform continuously; beauty gradually begins to deform, allowing distortion to emerge from within rather than arrive as an external threat. The visual world is not simply a setting for the story—it is the emotional and structural body of the story itself.
At its core, An Echo, Still is about a simple and human refusal: the wish for someone—or something—to remain a little longer, and the violence hidden inside the desire to preserve something beautiful even as its continued presence begins to undo the world around it.
PROJECT INFORMATION
YEAR
2026
RUNTIME
5’44”
FORMAT
Animated Short Film
FRAME RATE
25 fps