Us and Them (2018)

Us and Them is special because it treats a love story like a memory you can’t quite put down—tender, messy, and painfully human, with the sweep of time doing as much storytelling as the dialogue. René Liu directs with a compassionate eye, letting quiet looks, cramped rooms, and wintry travel crowds carry the ache of ambition and the warmth of connection, while Zhou Dongyu and Jing Boran make the relationship feel lived-in rather than scripted. The vibe is wistful and intimate, romantic in the way real life is romantic: full of small kindnesses, stubborn pride, and the kind of longing that lingers after the moment has passed. It’s not for viewers who want a breezy rom-com or neat answers, but if you’re open to a beautifully shot, emotionally sincere drama that understands why people miss each other even when they’ve moved on, it’s deeply worth the trip.

Us and Them aims for a bittersweet, grown-up romance about how timing, pride, and survival-mode adulthood can quietly wreck something real, and it mostly succeeds when it focuses on the small, familiar details of young people scraping by in Beijing. The catch is that it’s a slow, reflective two-timeline story that leans heavily on nostalgia and regret, so if you want forward momentum, big twists, or a sweeping “will-they-won’t-they” payoff, you may find it emotionally repetitive and a bit manipulative. Some scenes (drinking, smoking, sexual talk, and a rough fight) are bluntly adult and may feel more gritty than romantic. If you’re in the mood for a grounded, melancholy look at love that doesn’t magically fix life, there’s real tenderness here—just don’t expect it to leave you feeling light.