Confidence is not something Weiqi Meng lacks when it comes to filmmaking. She is decisive, possessing a defined style and clear vision. It’s qualities like these which supports the realization of films and productions that are “big swings.” It’s also what attracts so many other filmmakers to want to collaborate with her. From horror films that make you wince to animated music videos and even the exploration of her own interconnected animated universe, Weiqi Meng is the kind of artist who pushes the medium to explore and redefine its own boundaries. The only thing certain in life is change and Weiqi seems to be determined to bring change to the modern art of storytelling. A conversation with this filmmaker is enlightening, informative, and enchanting; so sit back and read on with fascination to see where such an imaginative professional finds inspiration and expression.
You admittedly lean into a style that embraces the surreal and perhaps hyperbolic state of the subject matter in your films. In an era when documentaries and historical dramas are more popular than ever,why is it that you’ve chosen your signature style which leans in the other direction? Long and detailed answer please.
Yes, I definitely lean toward a surreal and sometimes hyperbolic style, and I think that’s largely rooted in my background in theatre. In theatre, especially on stage, things are often exaggerated—not because they’re unrealistic, but because exaggeration helps focus emotion and meaning. One of my favorite works is Waiting for Godot and Endgame by Samuel Beckett. I’m deeply drawn to absurdity and dark humor, and how they expose the underlying fragility of human existence without ever saying it directly. I’ve always felt that emotions are abstract. They’re messy, irrational, and often hard to pin down with logic or literal language. So to express them truthfully, I think you have to use abstract, even surreal, storytelling. A metaphor can hit deeper than a fact. A stylized moment can sometimes feel more real than realism. And opens more discussions. Also—honestly—I just think it’s more fun. It gives me more freedom to play, to stretch the boundaries of how stories are told and how feelings are communicated.
A film like Don’t Wake the Baby takes a topic like miscarriage which is experienced by so many and takes the main character into a bizarre direction. Even so, it communicates the great lengths that people are sometimes willing to go to deal with the tragedies of life. Where did the inspiration for this film come from and why did you choose to depict in with such extreme actions by the main character? Long and detailed answer please.
The writer and director’s intent was to convey how this huge loss can take people into very unusual mental and emotional spaces. As the editor of this film, I was tasked with helping maximize these tones and moods. The woman who had the miscarriage begins to consume that to “make a baby” It’s a symbolic way to say she can’t get over the fact about miscarriage that she’d do whatever it takes to have her baby back.
As editor of the director/writer Bea del Pozo’s film Behind the Pink Door, you tackled the evergreen subject of the University Greek system and how it can alter a sense of self-worth. Judging by the film’s recognition from the Bettiah International Film Festival, Barcelona Indie Awards, Athvikvaruni International Film Awards, and others, it was very well received. What did you see in this story that piqued your interest enough to get you to sign on?
The initiation process of Mia into the sorority is not just a harmless ritual but a twisted game of power and manipulation, where the girls are pushed to their limits and beyond. As Mia pledges and struggles to fit in and make sense of her new reality, the audience is taken on a rollercoaster ride of emotions. By controlling pacing, visual juxtaposition, and character-focused storytelling, my editing of this film allowed me to emphasize her transformation from conformity to self-acceptance, making the film’s message resonate with authenticity. This is a story about a young woman discovering that she sets her own boundaries rather than allowing others to do so for her, making it the kind of female empowerment tale that I want to be a part of.
-You’re extremely daring and committed to storytelling. The animated music video “Garbage, the non-recycle kind” which you created displays this in the fact that you not only created the film but also composed the song and performed it. You’re undaunted in your desire for creative expression and it makes me wonder if you consider yourself a creative person who uses filmmaking to express yourself or if instead you see yourself as a filmmaker who is willing to attempt any other art forms in order tomanifest the story you are compelled to tell.
I consider myself both. I wasn’t determined to do film until a few years ago. For me, film is a way I expressmyself to the world. And to do that, I’m open to combining all kinds of media. For this project, it all started with me thinking, I’m such garbage. The non-recyclable kind. But then I wondered—maybe on a different planet, I could at least be the recyclable kind? That thought became the lyrics. Then I came up with the melody. Afterthat, I started drawing some images. Eventually, I edited everything together into a story. I chose animation for this project because I needed something more abstract—something with more freedom. If I had done this withreal people, it would’ve taken a lot more effort to achieve the same effect, and even then, it would’ve felt heavier, more literal. With animation, I had fun exploring colors and movement. In some parts, the character fades into the background, leaving only an outline. In others, different versions of the character spin out from the original one. It gave me room to visualize feelings that are hard to express in words or live action.
-One of your most recent projects is the creation of an entire universe of fictional characters interconnected in the same way that the Marvel characters are. I know that you’re using different animation styles to create this. Can you give us an idea of the genre, the storylines, and what you want to communicate with this? Where will it be available? Long and detailed answer please.
Right now I’m working on a channel centered around a character called Yellow J, who’s based on myself. (The“J” stands for “jacket,” since she always wears a yellow one.) I just started this project. It will be available towatch on social media platforms like YouTube, tik tok, bilibili, etc. The first few episodes are mainly to set up the world. The general format is 1-minute animated stories with dark humor. Yellow J is the main character—27, unloved, unemployed, and constantly under the weather. In the future, I’ll introduce other characters who will also take turns being the lead. For example, right now Killer Cat is a side character in Yellow J’s story, but eventually, Killer Cat will have his own episodes too. Same with new characters—we meet them as side characters first, then give them space to lead a few episodes. Still, Yellow J will remain the core that ties everything together. I want to use this to express myself, share life, share some thoughts. I want to experiment with animation styles throughout the channel. When Killer Cat becomes the lead, the visuals might shift into a film noir look—black and white, dramatic lighting, old-school feeling. Even if the whole style doesn’t change completely, I’ll still incorporate those elements. Later, I’ll introduce a vampire character who can taste the truthin people’s blood. For those episodes, I want to mimic the style of late-20th-century manga—something like Level E, City Hunter, or Vampire Hunter D. In general, each character will have their own thematic visual style.I also want to shift styles based on specific moments or emotions. For example, if an episode is about Yellow J revisiting her childhood, I might draw everything in pencil and animate it in a choppy, frame-by-frame way—like old memories.
-In your film The End, you present the idea of how humans will be effected with the advent of robots.Considering how prevalent AI has become in such an extremely short time, do you think the general public is considering the mental and emotional effect of this when presented with films like yours?
That’s a great question. I actually think people are starting to become aware of the mental and emotional impact of AI—at least to some extent. You can see that in the increasing number of think tanks, researchgroups, and online discussions specifically focused on the psychological and social consequences of AI.
That said, awareness doesn’t always translate into emotional processing. We know it’s happening, but I think a lot of people don’t yet know how to feel about it. It’s one thing to read an article or hear a podcast about AI andmental health, and another to personally confront what it means when you start forming attachments to something that isn’t alive. With The End, I wanted to give that space—emotionally—not to explain or warn, but to hold up a mirror. The film isn’t trying to say “Technology/AI is bad,” but more like: How does it feel when what you need emotionally is something only a machine can give.
-Here’s a follow up question. You edit your own movies as well those of others. Editing demands a specific perspective to communicate not only the story but also how it is viewed in regard to emotion and honesty. This is an idea many question about information and news in society these days. Do you feel a responsibility to “teach” through your filmwork or does entertaining storytelling supersede this idea of “right and wrong.?
As someone who edits both my own films and other people’s, I’m very aware of the power editing has—not just to shape a story, but to control how it feels, and even how “honest” it seems. Editing can guide emotion, create empathy, or completely shift perspective. It’s an invisible force that builds meaning without saying anything directly.
I don’t think my goal is to “teach” in a traditional sense. I’m not trying to tell people what’s right or wrong. But I do feel a responsibility—to be emotionally honest. That matters more to me than pushing a message or a moral. And I don’t think I have the right to teach other people what’s right or wrong. That’s just arrogant. What I can do is to be true to my own feelings and express them in an honest way to my audience. In today’s world where news and information are often shaped or manipulated, people are quick to question what’s real. I get that. But I think storytelling, especially through film, works differently. It doesn’t have to be objective—it just needs to be emotionally truthful. That’s what I aim for. I’d rather make someone feel something deeply than tell them what to think.
I think a good story can entertain and still be powerful enough to raise real questions, stir uncomfortable emotions, or make someone reconsider something in their own life. That impact, for me, is more valuable than handing out lessons.
-Do you feel that the methodology of filmmaking is changing, or will it stay the same at its core? Long and detailed answer please.
I don’t think the core methodology of filmmaking will ever fundamentally change—because at its heart, filmmaking is still about storytelling. And storytelling is one of the oldest, most deeply human impulses we have. It existed long before cinema.
We see this in the history of theatre. From ancient Greek tragedies to medieval morality plays, from Shakespeare to absurdist theatre—what stays consistent isn’t the staging, costumes, or lighting. It’s the structure of human emotion, conflict, and resolution. The platforms evolve, but the drive to connect through stories stays the same. Filmmaking is just the latest form of that. Technology changes—the tools get better, distribution shifts, editing styles evolve—but the core remains: a character, a conflict, a journey. We’re still trying to answer the same old questions: Who are we? What do we want? What is the meaning of life.