The Sun Rises Again: A Theater Experience of Imagined Conflict Resolution

Text/ linlinpupu

Director Tora Hsu adapted Tomohiro Maekawa's well-known play The Sun. On the surface, this work appears cloaked in cold science fiction. Dig deeper and you will find a hidden mirror that reflects society and individuals. In an increasingly polarized society in which daily order is penetrated by geopolitical fog and algorithms operate day and night offering no escape, the post-apocalyptic world constructed in The Sun provides a detached viewing space in which Nox and Curios are perfectly abstract mirror images.

“By keeping our distance, it seems that we are able to be more rational, or at least not get caught up in our emotions and state of mind so quickly.”

Hsu astutely grasped the premise of Maekawa's script: Science fiction is allegory and allegory creates distance from the present. There has been long-term tension as people maintain defensive and offensive stances along the political spectrum and in social media debates. When audiences do not feel forced to immediately choose a side, and are in a seemingly distant post-apocalyptic world, they are able to re-examine long-held adversarial stances that have become numbed by daily routines. 

To highlight the most important theme and better meet audience members where they are, waiting for the next sunrise, Hsu and playwright Chen Yi-En adapted the original script to a local context. In the process, they faced crucial and challenging issues such as the reconstruction of “geographical spaces” and “cultural and ethnic identities.”

In the original script, the geographical divide between Nagano and Tokyo corresponds to the class and economic tug-of-war between urban and non-urban areas in Japan. Taiwan is smaller and the distance between Taipei in the north and Pingtung in the south cannot support a fractured, heterogeneous space. Therefore, the Taiwanese version was not based on real places. Rather, the idea of a fantasy world was taken to the extreme. A vague and imaginatively tense boundary was created for a “new East Asian federation.” Moreover, the foreign land that the characters yearn for is transformed into Shinryūkyu. 

This blurring of geographical spaces not only echoes Taiwan's long-standing collective anxiety of shifting boundaries and identities, but also profoundly rewrites the characters’ motivation for survival. In the Japanese version, this motivation is based on an aspect of Japanese culture that can be described as “moral guilt and atonement.” In the Taiwanese adaptation, this is transformed into a psychological connection to the land: “Because this is home, I am staying.” This burden of guilt, which originally belonged to individuals, is elevated to a resistance effort by a group facing a survival crisis and willing to endure imperfection and pain to hold onto their roots. 

In the handling of the political spectrum, this adaptation rejects cheap factional divisions. The character played by Tsuei Tai-Hao is not a one-dimensional villain or radical symbol but, rather, a complex existence squeezed out from the margins of power. Through his choices and conflicts, simplified binary thinking is dismantled. During The Sun's Singaporean tour, an audience member remarked, “This is a science fiction allegory from a very Taiwanese perspective.” This “Taiwanese perspective” reflects the real struggle and fatigue of marginalized people as they seek to compromise, survive, and resist as power is monopolized in the name of progress and reason. 

During our discussion, Hsu exhibited a profound awareness of contemporary social media and political discourse. He pointed out that contemporary debates are not about the pursuit of truth. Rather, they are a type of “performative conflict” for the social media stage. People are “constantly paying attention to others, while being aware that they are also being paid attention to.” There is time to carefully craft social media posts. But every minor disagreement becomes irreconcilable position statements. The seemingly neutral “we need to discuss this” is a declaration that one is sticking to one's position, while waiting for the other party to compromise or back down. 

In terms of mise-en-scène, the visual tension is palpable. Nox hold cameras which they use to shoot and project real-time images.  “The lens itself becomes an extremely authoritarian medium. As the camera pans, this is only what the audience sees.” This design in which a special class of people has the power over what others see not only successfully creates a science fiction experience, but also metaphorically suggests that modern technology and authoritarian institutions use information and a monopoly on perspective to examine and define others. 

When discussing real-life conflicts, Hsu mentioned the shock he felt during the 318 Movement. “That wasn't a‘God’s perspective’ through a television screen. Rather, it was a feeling of disorientation and an instinctive sense of danger while experiencing it in person on the streets.”

Could it be that this kind of “physical” and “live” experience is the final line of defense against algorithms and AI technologies?

Through extreme contrasts, The Sun questions the irreplaceable nature of the human body. The actors were not asked to portray mechanical, otherworldly characters. Nox are rational and suppress emotion, while Curios are of flesh and blood and able to express sentiment. Even though they bear signs of disease and aging, which make them appear vulnerable, they retain the most primal human feelings and memories.

The 2025 production of The Sun garnered a series of accolades and awards. The most moving aspect of this work remains the profound connection between the script and the contemporary environment. In 2026, The Sun is no longer merely about a public health crisis. It is about how contemporary Taiwanese people and contemporary humans confront polarization, loneliness, and even digital entrapment.

Leaving the theater after the performance, we once again must honestly confront our own bodies and fears, as well as our positions and responses, in this era of division.