Breath of Life: An Interview with Nanxi Mo

Please tell us about the projects you worked on before making ‘Breath of Life’. How did you start, and how did you learn to make films?

Before Breath of Life, I created numerous very short animations that focused less on narrative and more on experimenting with techniques and visual expression. But I soon realized that story is the heart and soul of any film—technique is only the vessel. Once I understood that, I shifted my practice toward stronger storytelling. My work always reflects my lived experience: I’ve witnessed isolated elders and children in remote mountain villages, and I’ve felt the heartbreak of seeing nature change under human pollution. That led me to make a stop‑motion short about left‑behind children, exploring their resilience and solitude. Breath of Life is my first fully hand‑drawn, 2D film. From the start, I’ve wanted my stories to convey hope—and to pass on that hope to everyone who watches.

Tell us about ‘Breath of Life’. How do you describe it?

Breath of Life is a film about our struggle against environmental pollution. It was born out of my deep love for nature and the pain I feel watching it suffer. I love surfing—it’s one of my favorite ways to connect with the ocean. But over the years, I’ve witnessed my beloved clear waters gradually turn into seas littered with plastic bags and trash. This heartbreak became the seed of the film. The main character reflects my own inner worries and hope: even though one person’s strength may feel insignificant, I believe there are many like me who care deeply. Maybe one person can’t change much—but sometimes, even a small breath can ripple across the surface.

Please tell us about your favorite filmmakers.

My favorite filmmaker is Hayao Miyazaki. I’ve been watching his films since childhood, and they have moved me countless times. In his worlds I feel warmth, I feel the poetry of everyday life, and I’m reminded that no matter how harsh the times, we must continue living with courage and hope. His films always reassure me that life is beautiful. I’m also deeply drawn to Wong Kar-Wai’s films. His way of capturing the delicate, fleeting nature of love and longing always stays with me. The colors, the spaces between words, the slow, lingering shots—together they weave a texture that feels almost like memory itself. His work has taught me that film can hold unspoken feelings, that sometimes what is left unsaid can echo the loudest.

If you were given a good budget, what would be your ideal project?

If I had the chance to work with a generous budget, I’d love to create an animated anthology that feels like a modern-day fairy tale for all ages — a series of poetic, surreal stories that center around invisible guardians of nature living quietly alongside human society.

Each episode would follow a different spirit — maybe one that nurtures abandoned plants growing in cracks of concrete, or another that protects forgotten urban rivers buried under asphalt. These aren’t epic heroes. They work quietly in the background, unnoticed and often unappreciated, doing small things that help keep the world in balance. I want to blend hand-drawn textures with delicate sound design and limited dialogue, so viewers really feel the silence and weight of these small, magical lives.

Rather than preaching environmentalism, I’d like the stories to be emotionally driven — sometimes a little sad, sometimes funny, sometimes unexpectedly hopeful. The goal isn’t to shout about big crises, but to make people care about tiny, overlooked things again.

Describe how you would ensure that production is on schedule. What steps would you take?

To keep production on track, I first map out the entire timeline from the very beginning—starting with finalizing the script, then moving through character design and environment design. After that, I break the process into clear stages: storyboarding, keyframe animation, in-betweens, coloring, and lighting.

I plan buffer periods for revisions or unexpected turns, so the creative flow isn’t suffocated by deadlines alone. Once each task is set, I build a detailed calendar in Microsoft Teams to assign responsibilities and milestones to every team member. The automatic reminders help everyone stay grounded in the timeline without losing sight of the bigger picture.

Throughout, I check in regularly with the team—sometimes adjusting steps to allow space for ideas to grow naturally while still holding the structure firm enough to keep the project moving forward with room to breathe. It’s a delicate balance between discipline and giving the work time to unfold. That’s how I managed to complete Breath of Life—a fully hand-drawn short—in just five months.

What was the hardest part of making ‘Breath of Life’.

I spent five months almost entirely indoors—waking up and sitting down to draw, day after day. Frame-by-frame animation devours time and energy. To hand-draw nearly three minutes of fluid 2D animation alone in such a short time, I stuck to a “two’s” timing standard—twelve drawings per second. Each frame meant a rough sketch, clean line, color, and lighting pass. It’s a mountain of tiny pieces.All of this naturally put a limit on how complex my characters could be, but the hardest part wasn’t just the drawing—it was my body fighting back. Hours hunched over my iPad left my neck and shoulders in open revolt, and my eyesight dropped by 100 degrees. Maybe I should have invested in a proper display tablet and a more ergonomic setup—but there was no budget for that, so I just had to make peace with my spine and keep going. (laughs)

If possible, tell us about your next work. What plans do you have for your future work?

I plan to continue creating short films for now, but I’m still exploring ideas for my next piece. I’m drawn to themes that touch on human emotions and connections—love, longing, memories—things that are both universal and deeply personal. I hope to use animation to capture these subtle feelings in a way that resonates with others. Right now, I’m gathering inspiration and letting the idea take shape naturally—I’m excited to see where it leads me.