Ambivalent Utopias: Corporate Biopower and the Gendered Limits of Agency in Reset

1 Introduction

Reset (逆时营救), a science fiction thriller released in 2017, exemplifies the transregional trends in contemporary Chinese-language cinema. This collaborative product, facilitated by Chinese investment, brings together the talents of multiple East Asian nations and regions. Hong Kong-born renowned Jackie Chan serves as the producer, bringing his signature adrenaline-charged action to the film, while South Korean director Yoon Hong-seung, known by his pseudonym Chang, enhances the dynamic with his expertise in action sequences and suspenseful storytelling. Meanwhile, Chan’s deep involvement with the filmmaking process, coupled with his Hong Kong identity, opens possibilities for exploring the film’s postcolonial and neocolonial implications, rooted in Hong Kong’s transition from a past British colony to a current Chinese Special Administrative Region. Geopolitical considerations are also detectable in the strategic casting of Yang Mi, Huo Chien-hwa, and Jin Shih-chieh, which not only capitalizes on the extensive fanbases of Yang and Huo to attract a broader audience, but also mirrors cross-strait relations and resonates with nationalist sentiments that align with Chinese state regulations by positioning a protagonist played by a mainland actress against antagonists portrayed by Taiwanese actors.

Set in an unspecified city of a technologically advanced future, Reset centers around Xia Tian (played by Yang), a scientist working at Nexus, a transnational high-tech company. Under the guidance of the lab director (played by Jin), who is also her PhD advisor, Xia Tian leads a team that has developed a particle accelerator capable of facilitating inter-universal time travel. However, this breakthrough is fraught with perilous limitations, including a restricted time frame for temporal retrogression and the risk of inducing genetic mutations in human subjects. Tensions escalate when IPT Lab, a rival corporation, seeks retribution for a catastrophic incident that has resulted in the elimination of nearly all its scientists and data. Orchestrated by Western investors, IPT concocts a plan to exfiltrate Nexus’ research, using Xia Tian’s son, Doudou, as a pawn in their high-stakes game. When Cui Hu (played by Huo), a mercenary contracted by IPT, tragically murders Doudou, a devastated Xia Tian activates the unstable accelerator, embarking on a series of desperate quests to turn back time and save her child. Her journeys lead to multiple cybernetic iterations of herself and unveil her lab director’s duplicitous alliance with Cui Hu. Ultimately, it is the original, wholly human Xia Tian who prevails, resigning from Nexus to devote herself to raising Doudou.

Reset carves a unique niche in the evolving Chinese sci-fi cinema.^[1] While typical sci-fi films grapple with macroscopic concerns – from humanity’s struggle against cosmic menaces to far-reaching social and existential ramifications of technological advancements (Jenner 2019; Nelson 2003; Sobchack 1990, 1997) – Reset hones in on the more personal and intimate scope, albeit within the familiar terrain of dystopian and crisis-driven scenarios. Reset also diverges from thematic narratives commonly identified in Chinese sci-fi films characterized by patriotism, socialist ethics, and collective hope and solidarity (Hageman and Kanyu 2023; He 2020; Khan 2020; Li 2020; Luo 2020; Moran 2020; Yan and Yang 2019; Zhu 2020). Instead, it concentrates on individuals facing existential crises caused by global corporate avarice and the biotechnological manipulation of human subjects. Moreover, female characters in male-dominated professions often remain marginalized or tokenized despite the burgeoning growth of the Chinese sci-fi genre. Reset stands out as one of the few Chinese sci-fi media productions featuring a female lead in a scientist role. A comparable example is Three Body Problem, where Ye Wenjie and Cheng Xin not only occupy traditionally masculine professions but also shape the narrative outcomes. While both Reset and Three Body Problem operationalize gender traits during crises to assess their benefits to human survival, Reset portrays feminine qualities and motherhood in a more favorable light.

Scholarly examination of Chinese sci-fi films has grown in tandem with the expansion of the genre’s filmography. A considerable portion of this research interprets current productions, understandably, as instruments of Chinese government propaganda, with many studies (Du and Dong 2019; Hageman and Kanyu 2023; Li 2020; Luo 2020; Moran 2020; Yan and Yang 2019; Zhu 2020) focus on film adaptations of Liu Cixin’s novels. Insightful as these analyses are, this trend has restricted the scope of case studies and shown notable research gaps: an under-examination of gender dynamics, and a neglect of the global political economy beyond the frame of nationalistic narratives.

By introducing Reset into the discussion, this article complicates the prevailing generalizations about Chinese SF, illuminating a broader spectrum of existential and ethical dilemmas beyond mere nationalistic concerns. It extends to discussions on media representations of biopower’s enhancement of neocolonialism in transnational tech-corporations. I use neocolonialism here to refer to the dominance exerted by powerful countries or entities over weaker ones via economic, cultural, or institutional means. In this film, it reflects the geopolitical intricacies among Taiwan, Hong Kong, mainland China, and Anglo-America, shaped by colonial legacies and sovereignty disputes. While some view China’s economic and political influence over Hong Kong and Taiwan as neocolonial, Reset specifically portrays Western investors and corporate boards in biotech as opposing ethnically Chinese scientists, highlighting Western neocolonial dominance. In terms of gender, Reset delineates the continuum between utopia and dystopia through its protagonist’s identity as a female scientist and mother, offering insights into real-world gender-related challenges. This article examines how gender dynamics not only highlight the obstacles women encounter in corporate environments amid global capital and emerging technoscience but also how joint Chinese productions like Reset, shaped by Chinese media censorship, reflect state gender ideologies. This exploration is particularly relevant in light of the Chinese government’s focus on declining marriage and childbirth rates.

This article begins by grounding the discussion in relevant filmography and theoretical frameworks concerning biopower, gender, and human agency, establishing an analytical foundation for deeper inquiry into female agency and its absence. Subsequent analysis delves into two central motifs in the film: the pervasive biopower with its explicit and subtle forms of violence for human control, followed by Xia Tian’s time travel with transgressive cyborg forms. Through examining Xia Tian’s adventures and dislocations – encompassing corporate espionage, confrontations with antagonists, and interactions with her cybernetic alter-egos – this article aims to elucidate broader implications for gender roles and human agency in the cinematic portrayal of technoscience. My analysis shows that the film utilizes the cyborg image to critically examine two interconnected domains: the first probes individual agency in technoscientific environment shaped by neocolonial global capital, and the second delves into the complex and often paradoxical portrayal of women’s roles in the intensely debated sphere of gender politics. I contend that the film’s narrative and visual strategies position technology as both an enabler and a disruptor of existing power structures. Early in the narrative, Reset appears to champion cyborg feminism – a boundary-crossing assemblage that challenges patriarchal capitalism and neo-coloniality in science through Xia Tian’s high-tech transformations and her cyborg iterations. However, as the narrative progresses, rather than remaining a transgressive stance that disrupts dominative structures, the film’s ultimate resolution regarding the fate of the cyborgs becomes complicit in its own recolonization, reinforcing the technoscientific discourses and power systems it initially appeared to interrogate.

2 Biopower and Its Antidotes: Controversial Female Agency in Techno-Cultural Paradigms

Reset ushers viewers into a futuristic world where, Xia Tian, a scientist and mother, finds herself both confined and enabled by technoscience In science fiction, gender and reproductive sexuality are essential in utopian and dystopian visions of futuristic societies, as highlighted by Donna Haraway’s assertion that these are central actors in high-tech myth systems structuring our imaginations of personal and social possibilities (1987: 25). To unpack the complex interplay of gender and technoscience in Reset, this paper invokes an analytical framework that interrogates technoscience through Michel Foucault’s concept of biopower and Donna Haraway’s take on cyborg feminism. Foucault’s theory of biopower illuminates state strategies for disciplining bodies and managing populations through biopolitics, ostensibly to optimize life but often reinforcing societal hierarchies (Foucault [1979] 1990, [1976] 2003, 2008). Haraway’s critique of technoscience shares Foucault’s concerns over bodily agency and humanity’s techno-scientific reconfiguration, but from a feminist perspective. She challenges technoscience’s perceived neutrality, revealing its masculinized perspective that reinforces patriarchal norms, particularly in controlling women’s bodies through reproductive technologies (Haraway 1988, 1989, 1997).

Foucault and Haraway offer more than mere pessimism about corporeal control. Foucault, while acknowledging the conformity of “docile” or “topian” bodies under biopower, introduces the “utopian body” as a metaphor for autonomy transcending these confines. This idealized form, unhindered by physicality or societal norms, represents the pinnacle of human potential (Foucault 1986, 1998). Haraway’s “cyborg,” a human-machine hybrid, similarly challenges binary oppositions central to patriarchal technoscientific structures (Haraway 1987), echoing Foucault’s concept of transcendent autonomy.

Contemporary scholars, expanding on biopower and cyborg feminism, explore global biopolitical governance and postcolonial critiques of technoscience, examining both hegemonic powers and potential resistance in the tradition of Foucault and Haraway. Hardt and Negri (2005, 2009 argue that modern governance is inherently biopolitical, extending to individual corporality and consciousness, as exemplified by global corporations restructuring territories and labor markets. This shift from state-driven biopower to global organizational control is further emphasized by scholars such as Dillon and Reid (2001), Fraser (2003), Kelly (2010), Nguyen (2011), and Rabinow and Rose (2006). Concurrently, scholars like Bukatman (1991) advocate for leveraging science and technology to redefine humanity and resist hegemonic discourses. Others (Dumas 2018; Handlarski 2010; Johar Schueller 2005; Lavigne 2013; Mathur 2004; McLeod 2013) propose expanding cyborg feminism to incorporate postcolonial critiques, examining how Western scientific imperialism marginalizes indigenous knowledge and femininity. This perspective reinterprets science fiction’s futuristic motifs as reflections of the complex interplay between scientific advancement and neocolonial exploitation, reconceptualizing “humanity” beyond colonial and patriarchal boundaries.

This multifaceted framework enriches the analysis of Reset, illuminating Xia Tian’s navigation of technological empowerment and systemic control in a futuristic setting. The film’s depiction of pervasive global high-tech companies exemplifies a corporate form of biopower, while Xia Tian’s time-travel odyssey and subsequent cyborg transformations encapsulate themes of subversion and the redefinition of humanity. Her cyborg iterations, endowed with a “utopian body” through technology, challenge the efficacy of biopower. Xia Tian’s pulse-pounding action sequences evoke a rich legacy of empowered female protagonists in cinema. They recall the heroines portrayed by Michelle Yeoh in classic Hong Kong action films like Yes, Madam (1985) and Supercop (1992), offering what scholars argue is a transgressive outlet against societal expectations of feminine passivity (Tasker 1993: 15; Vares 2002: 213). Simultaneously, her adventures resonate with iconic figures from Hollywood sci-fi and dystopian cinema, from Ellen Ripley in the Alien series and Sarah Connor in the Terminator franchise to more contemporary characters like Furiosa in Mad Max: Fury Road. Like these trailblazing characters who possess technologically augmented or genetically modified bodies, Xia Tian is equipped with a hybrid form to undertake “unfeminine” actions. In this evolving tapestry, Reset carves out a unique path by synthesizing the resourcefulness of Chinese action-heroines with the science-driven moral quandaries commonly faced by strong female protagonists in Hollywood, presenting a nuanced exploration of female agency in a technologically advanced world.

Technoscience in Reset, while seemingly empowering Xia Tian, ultimately reinforces Foucauldian biopower through her scripted destiny as a mother. As I will elaborate in the later section on gender and motherhood, this paradox not only echoes in Hollywood sci-fi films but also across contemporary Chinese media, exemplified by characters like Li Jie in Lost, Found (2018) and Ye Wenjie in TV adaptations of Three Body Problem (2023). These narratives, while initially challenging traditional roles by validating career-oriented women, ultimately succumb to biopower’s operation through conservative gender ideology, particularly through the concepts of sacrificial motherhood and reproductive futurism. Sacrificial motherhood valorizes maternal self-sacrifice (Firestone 1979; Kakoudaki 2018), while reproductive futurism frames children as emblems of societal continuity, transforming mothers into biopolitical vehicles (Edelman 2004; Kennedy 2021). The tension between professional ambition and maternal duty becomes a critical site for the operation of biopower, reshaping women’s roles even in narratives that appear progressive or futuristic.

3 The Neocolonial Biopower: Violence and Humans as Expendables in Global Capitalism

Reset shows the pervasive nature of biopower in futuristic settings, where technological advancement enables novel forms of corporeal control and exploitation by neocolonial powers. Through its storylines, cinematography, and production decisions, the film illustrates the dominant power embodied by Western board members and investors of global hi-tech companies. Though physically absent, these Western figures loom large, projected onto futuristic screens at pivotal moments, steering the fates of others. This omnipresence underscores modern biopower’s capacity to transcend spatial limitations and exert surveillance and control that immensely affect the social fabric.

Linguistic and casting decisions reveal underlying neocolonial forces in the competitive global economy that mirror real-world geopolitical tensions. The diegetic world is complicated by the casting choices: while all three main characters speak Mandarin Chinese, the two antagonists are portrayed by Taiwanese actors, set in opposition to the protagonist played by a mainland Chinese actress. This tension adds a layer of complexity that reflects the intricate relationships among Taiwan, mainland China, and Anglo-America, especially given Taiwan’s increasingly closer affiliation with the United States against perceived Chinese aggression. Interestingly, while some non-mainland audiences and critics may view China as a neocolonial power exerting influence over Taiwan, this film caters to mainland regulations and audiences by portraying Western investors and corporate boards, all Caucasians speaking English, as the sole neocolonial force opposing ethnically Chinese scientists. This cinema representation intends to show a shared struggle among Chinese-speaking regions oppressed by Anglo-American hegemony, despite their political differences. The violence directed at Xia Tian thus becomes a powerful visual metaphor for China-Anglo America opposition, prompting viewers to question the ethics of Western efforts to curb China’s rapid global ascendancy. Even within the film’s antagonists, the Chinese-speaking guys are distinguished from the English-speaking board members: the former are portrayed as perpetrators of violence against their own compatriots and yet victims of Western manipulation, whereas the Western figures are depicted as the true evil puppet masters, orchestrating events from afar.

At the heart of Reset’s critique is the neocolonial order’s association with violence, unmoored from ethical considerations, threatening to turn society into a biopower-governed wasteland. Rather than relying on graphic violence typical of Western counterparts, Reset weaves allusions to classic Hollywood sci-fi and horror genres, creating a subtext charged with understated brutality. Xia Tian’s employer Nexus echoes Tyrell Corporation in Blade Runner, notorious for producing Nexus replicants as off-world slaves, as well as the Nexus Trilogy, a post-cyberpunk series exploring manipulation of human minds through nano-drugs. Reset reveals neocolonial violence as stemming from structural fissures fueled by unbridled corporate ambition and greed. Nexus and IPT, both directed by profit-maximizing Western boards, engage in a ruthless race for technological superiority. IPT’s brutal experiments pit cloned humans in deadly survival matches, and its accidental erasure of relevant data further demonstrates biopower’s capacity to erase identities, underscoring the expendability of individual lives in this system. The film extends its critique to the exploitation of employees, portraying them as expendable cogs in the corporate machinery. Even the archvillains, Cui Hu and the director, are depicted as victims of capitalist greed. The director, despite his lifelong dedication to research and mentorship, is callously discarded when younger scientists mature to replace him. Similarly, Cui Hu, a former IPT researcher, is driven by desperation to save his family through time travel and has to compromise his conscience in a Faustian bargain with IPT. Cinematographically, the violent acts of Cui Hu are featured in long-track shots, making the threat feel more immediate and personal. His axe-wielding scenes, reminiscent of Jack Nicholson’s iconic performance in The Shining, take on a different significance in Reset. While the axe in The Shining symbolizes the invasion of industrial modernity into traditional values, Cui’s axe represents how biopower endangers individuals and families. This theme is further reinforced by Cui’s own tragic backstory of losing his wife and daughters in a plane crash, presumably connected to corporate espionage.

Through these interconnected narratives and visual motifs, Reset illustrates how biopower infiltrates even the most intimate domains of human existence. The film contrasts Chinese and Western influences and juxtaposes advanced corporate environments with vulnerable populations, cautioning against the potential dangers of unchecked corporate and technological powers influenced by neocolonial forces.

4 Visualizing the Cyborg: Transformation from Topian to Utopian Bodies

Xia Tian’s metamorphosing body stands as a compelling counterpoint to the impending apocalypse driven by unchecked corporate greed. Her journey from a “topian” body subject to biopower to “utopian” forms capable of transcending control mirrors her ontological evolution. This transformation progresses from the original, purely human Xia Tian #1 to the increasingly cyborgian Xia Tian #2 and #3, disrupting and renegotiating sociocultural norms of time, space, and the very essence of humanity. In Reset, these norms are encoded through binary neocolonial and patriarchal discourses that privilege Western and masculine perspectives. Xia Tian’s emergent cyborg identity, however, embodies a new form of agency that defies such categorizations. Non-binary, non-Western, and transcending traditional notions of humanity, her cyborgian selves confront the neocolonial power structure and challenge its established concepts of gender, ethnicity, and human nature.

The film’s portrayal of Xia Tian #1, while establishing her as an outstanding and dedicated scientist at Nexus lab, shows her confined within traditional gender and social paradigms. The mise-en-scène frequently employs restrictive framing and chiaroscuro lighting to signify her entrapment in patriarchal and corporate structures. These visual motifs hint at her emotional vulnerability and obliviousness to the patronizing culture, epitomized by a condescending mentor and mercenary board members. Functioning as a cog in the Nexus corporate machine, she agreeably prioritizes professional responsibilities, neglecting personal well-being and familial obligations until crisis strikes. The kidnapping of her son abruptly thrusts her from a monotonous world of corporate obligation into an emotional maelstrom, captured through frenetic handheld camerawork that plunges viewers into her chaotic new reality. A symphony of cinematic techniques externalizes her existential derailment: verité-style tracking shots during her theft of the research module to be handed to Cui Hu, quick cuts and elusive eye-line matches in scenes of conversations with her lab mates and director, and jarring jump cuts accentuating her carelessness during the interaction with the kidnapper. This kinetic visual grammar creates a diegetic world mirroring her internal chaos, rendering her every move a staggering ballet of confusion and loss.

Xia Tian #1 manifests as a Foucauldian “docile” or “topian” body, resulting from biopolitical control, where one is intricately mapped, regulated, and surveilled. Her naiveté and susceptibility is captured on film through lingering close-ups and invasive point-of-view shots that position the audience as complicit voyeurs of her subjugation. Her turmoil is not merely a personal emotional disarray but a cinematic allegory for internalized systemic structures. a dialectic between self and environment that is visually and narratively coded. The camera operates dually as a reflective and projective medium, creating a visually and narratively coded dialectic between self and environment that is reminiscent of Brecht’s Verfremdungseffekt. It mirrors her internal discord while illuminating the diegetic world, thereby elevating her character arc from personal melodrama to a potent critique of the patronizing culture and corporate structures that defined her very existence.

As the narrative shifts from Xia Tian #1 to Xia Tian #2, the locus of transformation is encapsulated through the accelerator – a space echoing Foucauldian heterotopia. Foucault’s concept of the “utopian body” is closely linked to his idea of heterotopia (Hetherington 1997; Johnson 2006). Defined as “localized utopias” and “counter-spaces,” heterotopias coexist with and permeate ordinary spaces (Foucault 2009). By juxtaposing the familiar with the estranged and blurring lines between the tangible and the imagined, they expose power structures inherent in conventional spaces (Agamben 1998; Johnson 2006). At their core, heterotopias serve as “other spaces,” accommodating utopian bodies that destabilize hierarchies. The transformation is made palpable through an array of CGI effects, forming a compelling diegetic visualization of the ontological shift from a topian body to a utopian body. Inside the accelerator, digital spectacle unfolds: Xia Tian’s body deconstructs and reassembles in a choreography of pixels and luminescence, cocooned within a “tunnel of light” amid an ambient void. This visual tour de force conveys two forms of displacement: heterotopy and heterochrony. Heterotopic alterations are suggested through dynamic shifts in mise-en-scène, subtly altering the lighting, hues, and even textures of the framed body. Heterochronic shifts are materialized through inventive editing techniques – employing jump cuts, fragmented sequencing, and temporal manipulations – to create narrative ellipses that signify the transmutation into her cyborg form, Xia Tian #2. The cinematic elements collude to externalize Xia Tian’s metamorphosing identity, accentuating her departure from societal norms and projecting her into a heterotopia.

As the narrative transitions from Xia Tian #1 to Xia Tian #2, the accelerator becomes the locus of transformation, embodying Foucault’s concept of heterotopia. This notion, linked to the “utopian body,” describes spaces that coexist with and permeate ordinary realms as “localized utopias” and “counter-spaces” (Foucault 2009; Hetherington 1997; Johnson 2006). By juxtaposing the familiar with the estranged, heterotopias blur boundaries between the tangible and imagined, exposing power structures inherent in conventional spaces (Agamben 1998). These “other” spaces accommodate utopian bodies, destabilizing hierarchies and challenging normative social orders. The film renders this transformation palpable through a compelling array of CGI effects. Within the accelerator, a digital spectacle unfolds: Xia Tian’s body deconstructs and reassembles in a choreography of pixels and luminescence, cocooned within a tunnel of light amid an ambient void. This visual tour de force conveys two forms of displacement: heterotopy and heterochrony. Heterotopic alterations manifest through dynamic shifts in mise-en-scène, subtly altering the lighting, hues, and textures of the framed body. Simultaneously, heterochronic shifts materialize through inventive editing techniques – jump cuts, fragmented sequencing, and temporal manipulations – creating narrative ellipses that signify the transmutation into her cyborg form, Xia Tian #2.

Xia Tian #2, endowed with foreknowledge and enhanced senses, embodies heightened agency. Her pulled-back hairstyle and flowing trench coat signify an evolved state of defiance, contrasting sharply with Xia Tian #1’s tamed bob and corporate attire. These changes in framing and costuming visually underscore the transformation in her capacity for action and resistance. To accomplish her mission, she has to knock out and hide Xia Tian #1, who is still confused and traumatized by Doudou’s death. A series of close-ups capture her assertive countenance, emphasizing her discernment and composure, particularly evident in scenes depicting her interrogation and discovery of the treacherous liaison between Cui Hu and her mentor/lab director. These shots stand in contrast to earlier two-shots that frame Xia Tian #1’s naivete and reserved demeanor when in conversation with her mentor.

Low-angle shots further accentuate her burgeoning power and authority as she compels Cui and her mentor to confront their own expendability in the global capitalist machinery. This visual approach underscores how they’ve been manipulated as pawns by Western investors and board members. By forcing them to grapple with ethical quandaries related to bioethics and biopolitics, this cyborg iteration of Xia Tian serves as a fulcrum in the film’s exploration of corporate avarice and its human toll. Quick cuts and a probing point-of-view perspective during these confrontation sequences draw the audience into the immediacy of her revelations, further emphasizing her instrumental role in unmasking the ultimate machinations of the Western board members involved in erasing the identities and lives of the “Others.”

However, Xia Tian #2’s triumph is ephemeral. Cui’s relentless chase ensues, executed through high-angle shots that provide an omniscient view of the frantic cars weaving through traffic. This aerial view is intercut with rapid-fire editing that injects a frenetic pace into the chase. A heart-racing soundtrack filled with pounding drum rhythms amplifies the danger at every twist and turn. The high-octane audio-visual ensemble then reaches a devastating climax in the tragic demise of Doudou. This catalyst propels the storyline into a new temporal reality and, ushering in the era of Xia Tian #3, the last iteration that takes the concept of the cyborg with its dark extremities. While retaining elements of her predecessor’s cybernetic and organic composition, Xia Tian #3 diverges significantly from Xia Tian #2, both ethically and aesthetically. Xia Tian #3 materializes as a murkier being, a lethal antagonist clad in pitch-black attire. She represents the most problematic version of femininity in the film for an unrestrained penchant for revenge and destruction. Armed with a gun – a potent and phallic symbol of violence – she rivals female fighters in action films in a kinetic choreography. Her voice, modified through pitch-altering audio techniques, adds another masculine timbre that augments her already transgressive persona. Unlike Xia Tian #2, who embodies an initial liberation through challenging societal constraints, Xia Tian #3 symbolizes a more radical departure – a wholesale rejection of normative structures. This progression reflects not merely a departure from, but a violent repudiation of, the established moral framework. When contextualized within the film’s broader critique of the neocolonial power and its control over bodies and minds as discussed in the previous section, Xia Tian’s transformation – from a controlled subject to a symbol of resistance, and finally to a force of destruction – can be read as a commentary on increasing Chinese agency against Western neocolonial practices within global technoscience.

The character evolution reaches its apex in a visually and narratively complex denouement set within the labyrinthine Nexus facility. As disparate timelines converge and three versions of Xia Tian intersect, the film plunges into a narrative and visual maelstrom. Split-screen techniques and layered voiceovers create a rich mise-en-scène, amplifying the temporal and narrative complexity, with formal elements working in concert with thematic concerns. At a critical juncture, Xia Tian #1 faces imminent danger, prompting her cyborg counterparts to intervene. However, their alliance crumbles upon the revelation of the cyborgs’ fatally deteriorating hybrid cells, triggering an existential crisis. This development sets the stage for a profound conflict: Xia Tian #2 recognizes the necessity of self-sacrifice to preserve the “pure” human Xia Tian for Doudou’s sake, while Xia Tian #3 becomes fixated on eliminating her alternates to become Doudou’s sole guardian. The ensuing confrontation forces Xia Tian #2 to destroy Xia Tian #3 in defense of their human counterpart. The sequence reaches its poignant climax as Xia Tian #2 willingly disintegrates herself in the very accelerator that created her, a symbolic return to her technological origin. This act of sacrifice allows the surviving Xia Tian #1 to reunite with Doudou, bringing the film’s diverse thematic explorations to a resonant conclusion.

The confrontations between different versions of Xia Tian not only create a compelling narrative climax but also embody the film’s ethical dilemmas through visceral on-screen tension. These physical clashes points to the dialectical tension between organic integrity and the problematic aspects of biotechnological augmentation. In an act emblematic of this struggle, Xia Tian #2, who embodies an idealized cyborg form, feels compelled to sacrifice herself to ensure the survival of Xia Tian #1, symbolizes unaltered human existence and is deemed the rightful guardian for Doudou. While a more detailed analysis of gender implications will be offered in the next section, it’s worth noting here that Xia Tian #2’s success in unveiling corporate malfeasance offers a glimpse of cyborg feminism’s emancipatory potential. However, her ultimate sacrifice problematizes this optimistic narrative, casting doubt on individual agency in intricate tapestry of biopower and capitalist exploitation, suggesting that the tentacles of biopower may be inescapable. The film thus enacts its critiques through visual and narrative techniques, turning the medium into the message itself. In navigating the identity struggles of Xia Tian across dimensions and timelines, the film transforms into heterotopia, a space where alternate “truths” and “authenticities” are juxtaposed and reconciled. This process generates a state of epistemological liminality, questioning ingrained notions about the self and the deep-seated social structures.

5 Between Tradition and Transgression: Conflicting Narratives of Gender

While heterotopias facilitate the crossing of boundaries and contestation of norms, particularly those related to gender, family structures, and scientific ethics, they are not unequivocal havens of liberation. Rather, they mirror tension between transgressive possibilities and the deep-rooted traditions that permeate societal structures in reality. Reset offers heterotopic realms as a trenchant critique of the structures of global capitalism. Yet, it approaches the dismantling of traditional gender norms with more hesitation. This is not to deny the film’s attempts to challenge conventional gender roles. Its three central characters – Xia Tian, a single mother and divorcee; Cui Hu, a lone survivor wrestling with familial loss; and the director, an aging bachelor – embody alternative familial forms that defy traditional configurations such as the heteronormative nuclear family and dyadic couples. However, this act of defiance becomes ambivalent in its representations of femininity and motherhood. As I will elaborate below, the initial mixed messages about female scientists give way to glimmers of transformative and transgressive femininity, channeled through utopian bodies. Yet, these progressive elements ultimately yield to more traditional, even conservative, ideologies of reproductive futurism and sacrificial motherhood.

6 Conclusion

Reset harnesses the imaginative possibilities of the sci-fi genre to explore individual agency within a world dominated by corporate biopower. Set against the backdrop of global capitalism controlled by neocolonial forces, the film delves into the intersectionality of gender, technoscience, and socio-cultural structures. The narrative centers on Xia Tian’s journey, illustrating the complexities faced by professional women balancing career demands with familial responsibilities. This storyline reflects broader societal issues where motherhood and professional commitments are juxtaposed under scrutinizing societal expectations. The film’s treatment of reproduction and motherhood mirrors current policies and cultural imperatives in China that simultaneously valorize motherhood and push for women’s workforce participation, creating a dual burden.

In this futuristic world, Xia Tian’s transformation reveals both the potentials and limitations of contesting societal norms within the matrix of biopower. The cyborg versions of Xia Tian initially epitomize the “utopian body,” embodying cyborg feminism’s ideals and offering a disruptive force against patriarchal paradigms. However, the narrative takes an ambiguous turn, ultimately upholding the social structures it initially questioned. This paradox is particularly evident in the film’s gender politics: despite initially challenging gender norms through heroic iterations of women, Reset ultimately reverts to traditional gender roles, highlighting the tension between challenging and reinforcing societal norms. Reset thus performs a double movement: it introduces alternative forms of womanhood and motherhood via the cyborg Xia Tians while framing these forms as incompatible with the envisaged societal future. This interplay between sacrificial motherhood, reproductive futurism, and the cyborg figure reinforces traditional notions of motherhood while superficially engaging with progressive ideas of female identity and agency.

Ultimately, Reset functions as an allegorical lens magnifying the effects of global corporate biopower on human subjectivity, particularly female agency within apocalyptic upheavals. While critiquing the hegemony of neocolonial global capitalism in manipulating human bodies and subjectivities, it simultaneously exhibits a conservative approach to gender roles. This contradiction reflects the complex nature of societal progress in the face of technological advancement, offering a rich text for analysis of contemporary attitudes towards gender, technology, and social change.