

Goodbye, Dragon Inn 2003
Tsai Ming-liang's meditative Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003) turns a crumbling Taipei cinema into a haunting time capsule on its final night of operation.
Director: Tsai Ming-liang
Cast






Frequently Asked Questions
What is Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003) about?
Set on the last night of a Taipei cinema's existence, this poetic drama follows a handful of patrons and staff as they watch a classic wuxia film amid the theater's decay. Memories, desires, and fleeting connections emerge under the flickering lights, leaving the viewer to wonder how much of the past lingers in empty spaces.
Who directed Goodbye, Dragon Inn?
Taiwanese auteur Tsai Ming-liang directed Goodbye, Dragon Inn, known for his contemplative, visually striking films that explore urban isolation and human longing.
Who stars in Goodbye, Dragon Inn?
The cast features Lee Kang-sheng as the projectionist, Chen Shiang-chyi as the enigmatic patron, and Kiyonobu Mitamura as a Japanese tourist, alongside veteran actor Shih Chun.
Is Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003) worth watching?
If you appreciate slow-burn dramas that blend nostalgia with minimalism, Goodbye, Dragon Inn offers a hypnotic, deeply atmospheric experience. Its restraint and poetic visuals make it a rewarding watch for fans of arthouse cinema, though its quiet pacing may not appeal to everyone.
How long is Goodbye, Dragon Inn?
Goodbye, Dragon Inn runs for 82 minutes, a concise yet immersive runtime perfect for a film about fleeting moments and fading grandeur.
🎥 Trailer
Goodbye, Dragon Inn: Tsai Ming-liang's Haunting Final Screening — Full Movie Info
Tsai Ming-liang's meditative Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003) turns a crumbling Taipei cinema into a haunting time capsule on its final night of operation. As torrential rain lashes the city, the grand but decaying Dragon Inn unfolds its last screening—a vintage wuxia epic by King Hu that stirs long-buried memories in the handful of remaining patrons and staff. The film's quiet corridors and flickering projection room become stages for fleeting encounters, unspoken longing, and an eerie sense of déjà vu, as if the past refuses to let go.
Between sparse dialogue and lingering shots, Lee Kang-sheng's wandering projectionist and Chen Shiang-chyi's enigmatic patron weave a bittersweet portrait of cinema's power to summon ghosts—not just of the films themselves, but of the lives that once intersected with the silver screen. Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003) is a poetic farewell to analog dreams, where every creaking floorboard feels like a whisper from another era.




