Star, a suicidal teen now too old for foster care, develops a candid rapport with An, a student from Shanghai who is assigned to watch her while she is in hospital. A nightly exchange of secrets, text messages and possessions quickly expands the boundaries of their relationship, altering their inner chemistry.　　Gilded by a soundscape that interweaves work by emerging and pioneering electronic musicians, Queens of the Qing Dynasty is an offbeat ode to neurodiversity and genderqueer individuals who refuse to conform. Director Ashley McKenzie’s blend of formalism and gritty realism does not fail to surprise and treats the audience to flashes of visual and conceptual poetry. Her cast is entirely composed of first-time actors who convincingly convey how unique every individual is, both in how they see the world and how they relate to others. Ziyin Zheng in the role of An graciously embodies a mix of idiosyncrasy and frankness that makes them an ideal confidante for Star (Sarah Walker). They have what it takes to be on the receiving end of the scrutinising gaze of Star, who sees through conventions and never ceases to be amazed at life’s bewildering events. Veering on slapstick, Walker’s performance will not go unnoticed.。与此同时，虞品言的视线也无法从妹妹那晶亮饱满，好似熟透的樱桃的红唇上移开。他慢慢，慢慢靠近，鼻端钻入一缕缕玫瑰混合着莲花的清香，脑中忽然浮现半爿暧昧不已的诗句——艳色浮粧粉，含香乱口脂。……