Written by Ana Paloma Martínez Gómez.
Image credit: Laha Mebow 2022-10-25 by PlayIN/ Wikimedia Commons, license: CC BY 3.0.
During the 2025 SOAS Summer School in Taiwan Studies, I had the opportunity to present my MA thesis titled “Representation of Taiwan’s Indigenous Peoples and Their Cultural Identity Through Contemporary Taiwanese Cinema from 2010 to Present.” The feedback and discussions helped me reflect deeply on this topic. This article builds on that work, exploring how Indigenous identity is portrayed on screen and how film supports cultural revitalisation and self-representation through a decolonial and gendered lens.
Anthropological and archaeological evidence places the Indigenous peoples of Taiwan as the origin of the Austronesian peoples over 6,000 years ago. Today, they make up only about 2.5% of the population, with their cultural heritage at risk. Much of what we know about them has been shaped by Western interpretations, since their histories and knowledge have traditionally been passed down orally and often told by their colonisers. In film, this meant Indigenous communities were long seen through a colonial lens, but this has started to change in the last three decades.
Research on Indigenous representation in social, political, and economic contexts has gained momentum recently. The challenges Indigenous communities face today include defending territorial rights, rural-to-urban migration, and the loss of cultural and linguistic heritage. In response, Indigenous cinema has become a powerful tool for promoting cultural diversity, challenging these Autochthonous Struggles Today, and supporting identity preservation.
The portrayal of Indigenous peoples in Taiwanese cinema has changed alongside the island’s social and political shifts, seen across three main periods. During Japanese colonial rule (1895-1945), Indigenous communities were depicted as exotic or primitive, emphasising their otherness to justify assimilation. Films promoted “Japanisation,” and Sayon’s Bell (1943) is a clear example, later remade from an Indigenous perspective by Laha Mebow as Finding Sayun (2011).
Under the Kuomintang regime (1947–1987), Indigenous communities were further marginalised as the government promoted a Han-centric national identity. Films reinforced stereotypes, portraying Indigenous people as primitive, alcoholic, or promiscuous, contributing to a long period of cinematic ethnic erasure. Romance plots between Indigenous women and Han men were common, such as The Nightingale of Alishan (1957), which reinforced assimilationist ideals under the guise of love stories. After martial law ended in 1987, Taiwan’s democratisation brought a cultural revival embracing diversity, opening the door for authentic Indigenous representation. Early examples include The Man from Island West (1988), following an Atayal youth navigating displacement and cultural identity struggles. Later films, such as Umin Boya’s Kano (2014), show how Indigenous identity was both included and marginalised under Japanese colonialism through the story of a multi-ethnic baseball team. Laha Mebow has explored intergenerational change, resilience, and language revitalisation through what I refer to as her “contemporary Indigenous trilogy”: Finding Sayun (2011), Lokah Laqi (2016), and Gaga (2021). These works mark a shift away from colonial portrayals toward Indigenous self-representation.
A Gender Perspective: Laha Mebow’s Indigenous Cinema
One striking trend in Taiwanese Indigenous cinema is that, until recently, most films were directed by men. That changed with Laha Mebow, Taiwan’s first Indigenous female filmmaker. Her work has been a major turning point in Indigenous storytelling, with Gaga earning her the Best Director at the 2022 Golden Horse Awards.
Mebow’s community-based approach stands out. She works closely with Indigenous actors, elders, and youth and engages in cross-cultural collaborations with other Indigenous nations. Her commitment to cultural revitalisation through film makes her a key voice in contemporary Taiwanese cinema and the global Indigenous film movement. Her films reflect her personal journey reconnecting with her Atayal roots after living away from her community for three decades.
Her productions capture Indigenous life with realism, authenticity, and emotional depth, paying special attention to youth perspectives. Gaga follows an Atayal family caught between modern life and traditional values, portraying generational tensions and the coexistence of Indigenous and Catholic beliefs, a colonial legacy. Mebow says her films are made to be relatable to everyone, not just Indigenous viewers, bridging cultures through shared human experiences.
A New Taiwanese Identity
Taiwan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MOFA) notes that 95% of Taiwan’s population is Han Chinese, with Indigenous Peoples making up 2.5%, spread across 16 officially recognised groups. However, groups like the Siraya people and other Pingpu groups remain unrecognised. Although MOFA highlights growing appreciation for Taiwan’s cultural heritage, it does not fully address how the rise of a new Taiwanese national identity affects Indigenous communities. Each group has its own traditions, languages, and practices, and grouping them under a single national identity risks cultural erasure. Indigenous peoples are Taiwan’s First Nations, but also minority groups living at the intersection of rapid urban growth and the so-called “modernity.”
This gap between official recognition and ongoing cultural marginalisation reveals the complex space Indigenous communities occupy in Taiwan’s evolving national identity. One way this tension comes into focus is through film. In recent years, Indigenous filmmakers have increasingly used cinema to reclaim narrative control and assert cultural identity on their own terms. This mirrors approaches seen in Indigenous Movements across Latin America, where media became a powerful tool for demanding land rights, preserving traditions, and challenging colonial perspectives. Moreover, movements like the Third Cinema, which rejected Hollywood and Eurocentric storytelling in favour of socially engaged narratives, offer a useful lens for understanding these shifts. At the same time, the idea of Fourth Cinema, proposed by Māori director Barry Barclay, helps frame how Indigenous filmmakers create stories from within their own communities, for their own audiences. This is especially relevant in Gaga, where director Laha Mebow centres Indigenous relationships and storytelling as lived cultural expression, and shows not just representation, but self-representation grounded in community perspectives.
Stuart Hall’s theory of cultural identity adds depth. Hall describes two ways to think about identity: as a fixed origin to be reclaimed and as an evolving process shaped by history and power. Gaga shows both, with the Atayal community rediscovering roots through rituals and storytelling, asserting a continuous Indigenous identity. It also acknowledges colonial history’s legacy, like Catholicism in daily life, as seen in Gaga and Lokah Laqi. This layered view reveals the ongoing negotiation between tradition and change that is shaping Indigenous identity.
Audience Insights: Exploring Identity Through Gaga
To understand how Indigenous identity is viewed in Taiwan today, I spoke with eight educators, curators, and cultural workers, Indigenous and non-Indigenous. Most were familiar with Gaga and its recognition. The themes they discussed echo Gaga’s: shifting identity ideas, generational tensions, and representation’s power.
Language was a common thread. Several interviewees acknowledge the issues around Indigenous names and languages, sidelining Indigenous voices from mainstream stories. Gaga shows this struggle as younger family members wrestle with heritage while elders work to preserve the Atayal language and traditions. One of the interviewees, Paiwan educator Ljius Kulivu said, “Indigenous identity is something you carry your whole life.” This feeling runs deep in the film. The visibility of Indigenous cinema since 2010 was another major point. People acknowledged more Indigenous films but worried these stories don’t reach wide audiences. This tension mirrors Gaga’s journey: despite national acclaim, it remains a rare Indigenous story in mainstream attention. Government policy was also key, and President Tsai Ing-wen’s 2016 apology to Indigenous Peoples was cited as a landmark moment, though not without critics. Wasiq Silan, from the Tayal group, spoke about the importance of “not just going back to 400 years ago, but to renew and reclaim the identity in the contemporary world,” which, in her opinion, is what revitalisation means. This idea is central to Gaga, where tradition and modern life coexist as parts of one evolving story.
The Role of Indigenous Film Festivals
When I mention Taiwan’s Indigenous Peoples in Europe, people often say, “Wait, there are Indigenous people in Taiwan?” This reflects their invisibility on the global stage and why festivals matter: As Iván Sanjinés from Chirapaq puts it, Indigenous cinema doesn’t have the reach of commercial films, so it needs more support. But its real power lies in how it affirms identity, builds alliances, and opens space for intercultural dialogue.
Taiwan International Ethnographic Film Festival (TIEFF), Asia’s longest-running ethnographic festival, plays a key role in promoting Indigenous cinema within Taiwan. Documentaries such as Voices of Orchid Island (1993), which critiques tourism and media stereotyping of Tao traditions, and The Feather Headdress of Ceroh (2018), which reflects youth perspectives on cultural continuity, are representative examples screened over the last years. In Europe, the Taiwan Film Festival Edinburgh (TFFE), launched in 2021, also promotes Indigenous-themed films to Western audiences. Recent selections include The Man from Island West, Gaga and The Catch (2021).
Latin America, especially Brazil, has seen a notable increase in indigenous film festivals over the past decade. Until the 2010s, Brazilian society was largely unaware of the contemporary realities of its Indigenous populations. But since the late 1990s, the presence of Indigenous filmmakers at festivals, on public television, and in education has steadily shifted that perception. A similar phenomenon has occurred in Taiwan, particularly through the creation of Taiwan Indigenous Television (TiTV) and streaming platforms such as TaiwanPlus, which help increase media visibility for Indigenous communities.
Conclusion
Indigenous cinema in Taiwan is not just cultural resistance; it’s a space for reclaiming identity and culture revitalisation. Although recent indigenous productions have improved visibility, challenges remain: authentic representation, broader distribution, and global inclusion. A decolonial perspective is essential to understanding Indigenous histories and futures, in Taiwan and other Indigenous regions worldwide.
Ana Paloma Martínez Gómez holds a degree in Pedagogy from the Complutense University of Madrid and an interuniversity MA in Cultural Management from the Universitat Oberta de Catalunya and the Universitat de Girona. Now pursuing a PhD, her research focuses on East Asia (particularly Taiwan, Hong Kong, and Japan), exploring historical memory, cultural narratives, and decolonial perspectives through film and literature. She has worked as a Programme Coordinator for the Taiwan Film Festival Edinburgh (TFFE) and has been a member of EATS since 2024. Contact information: martinezapg@uoc.edu.
This article was published as part of a special issue on ‘SOAS Taiwan Studies Summer School 2025‘.
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