I never expected that Upcoming Summer would leave such a lasting impression to me. It has been nearly a week since the credits rolled, yet there are moments when my mind replays Coldplay and The Chainsmokers’ “Something Just Like This,” instantly transporting me back to that scene. They stood side by side amidst the pulsating crowd—people hopping to the beats, neon spotlights painting the air, and breaths echoing with so much euphoria. And there they were, leaning into each other, exchanging hushed whispers, and sharing their deepest secrets.

After that, the credits were rolling. My eyes remained fixated on the fading black screen until they filled with words:

We hope we can face ourselves with more honesty.

We hope we can be braver.

I was almost convinced that Upcoming Summer would be easily forgettable. After all, I only gave this film a chance because I wanted to see Leo Wu once again after ‘Amidst a Snowstorm of Love.’ However, I remained confident that anything with him was worth watching, so I knew this film would be at least good. Miraculously, on the night of the 24th, I was in the mood to watch something. Not feeling particularly picky, I decided to hop over to BiliBili and check if Leo Wu’s Upcoming Summer was available to watch there.

Despite feeling a little hesitant during its first few minutes, I kept my cool and trusted my instincts to continue watching. To my great surprise, I enjoyed how the story became interesting after their paths finally crossed because of a casual lie made by Chen Chen. I would say, that moment when Yu Xing simply peeked on the then passing Chen Chen and asked what was going on—followed by the classroom erupting in teasing—gave me an impression that this might be an easy watch. Halfway through, I had to pause the film as the hour was already growing late. I stopped during that scene where Yu Xing took Chen Chen to the club on her 18th birthday. They were in the front, the music was pounding in their ears, everyone lost in the moment, and both of them locked in their own world—gazing into each other’s eyes. I didn’t want to spoil the anticipation, so I left it hanging that night and resumed watching the next evening. I knew that in that scene, she would lean in to kiss him, and he would pull back. Funny enough, I had already stumbled upon that very scene randomly on TikTok before I even knew who Leo Wu was or had watched Amidst a Snowstorm of Love. I remember saving that clip in my watchlist collection, knowing I’d return to it when I’m finally in the mood to watch it.

On that Monday night, well past midnight, I finished watching Upcoming Summer. Honestly, it wasn't what I had thought about. I didn't know exactly what to feel  and found myself caught between satisfaction and dissatisfaction. Perhaps it was the late hour, or perhaps it was the impact of the film itself? Curious, I ventured onto Letterboxd and checked the reviews. There, I stumbled upon something mind-blowing—something that left me gasping in awe and disbelief. This revelation prompted me to read more online reviews until I was certain of what this film truly represented.

The movie I initially thought would merely pass me by had, unexpectedly, stuck with me.

Upcoming Summer

We’ve encountered countless films with “summer” in their titles. These cinematic works often evoke memories of youth, vibrant colors, and the bittersweet nostalgia of childhood.

In the film Upcoming Summer the title seems straightforward—it’s about the impending season. However, upon watching it, I discovered that its significance extends beyond mere literal interpretation.

“Upcoming” implies anticipation—an event yet to unfold but expected to happen in due time. While “Summer”, in literary contexts, has been richly symbolic. Some associate it with youth, freedom, and breaking away from constraints. Others view it as a vessel for memories—innocence preserved in the golden haze of warm days. In my personal interpretation, Upcoming Summer represents more than just a season. It also signifies awakening of youthfulness, end of child-like innocence, making way for deeper experiences, and self-discovery.

The film’s pivotal moment occurred during the peak of summer. Here, both Yu Xing and Chen Chen shared their deepest secrets—a cathartic release. But fate intervenes, separating them. Three years later, summer reunites them, weaving their paths together once more.

On Chen Chen's Eyes

I watched the film from Chen Chen’s perspective.

She acted as if everything was fine after discovering her mother’s affair with another man. She used Yu Xing as an excuse for her near-suicidal behavior, hoping it would make her mother back off, as she refused to tell her the truth. However, things turned the other way around and unexpectedly engendered an ever more dilemma. Throughout their interactions, I saw things through her eyes. I interpreted Yu Xing's actions in the same way she did. I shared her belief that when she leaned in to kiss him, he would reciprocate. Even before that pivotal moment, when he brought her to his place and she sang while he played the guitar, it felt truly romantic. They were both happy, and like Chen Chen, I thought he might have feelings for her. After all, who would put in the effort to create a mixtape with her voice singing and play it on her birthday? And taking her to the club for the first time, dancing together? Those gestures can raise anyone's hopes and make their heart flutter. So when he rejected her kiss, I felt that pang in my heart and understood her frustration.

However, my focus on Chen Chen’s perspective caused me to miss crucial insights into Yu Xing. While it’s true that he led her on and played along with her tricks, we failed to see beyond his literal actions. For instance, when he cried in the faculty room after their home teacher scolded him, it was definitely not because of him being accused of following her around, but rather due to what their home teacher told him. Then, his weighty words when he told her she wouldn’t understand his longing for Ming because she hadn’t experienced love. Lastly, when he whispered his secret to her on the music festival, revealing who Ming was. At that moment, Chen Chen realized that she had been viewing everything from her own perspective. Perhaps, just like us, she missed the nuances of Yu Xing's feelings and motivations.

The Louder, The Better

As I read that review on Letterboxd, a mental snap echoed in my mind, and I whispered with conviction, “I knew it!”

Being unfamiliar with Chinese names, I had no clue about the gender associated with the name. Throughout the film, there were no obvious signs that Yu Xing might be bisexual or gay, nor any indication that Ming was male. At first, I thought Yu Xing was infatuated with a woman eight years of her senior, who happened to be a DJ.

We were halfway through the film, and Ming remained unseen. While the story primarily revolved around Chen Chen and Yu Xing, it puzzled me that even Ming's voice remained a mystery, especially when he had a fight with Chen Chen and attempted to call Ming. The other line responded with a stranger's voice, calling out Ming, but not even a breath was heard. When Chen Chen persuaded Yu Xing to meet Ming, my suspicion intensified even more.

Outside the venue, DJ posters adorned the walls, and there it was—Ming’s name among the dominant faces of male DJs. However, Ming's face remained hidden; we only got to see this person up to his neck. It felt like his identity was deliberately obscured from us.

Why?

Finally, Ming took the stage with “Something Just Like This.” Still, identifying who Ming was proved challenging. Why did he appear masculine, though? Or maybe, it was the way he dressed?

So, when I stumbled upon a few reviews discussing Yu Xing's sexual identity and even Ming's, the pieces fell into place.

That’s why! That’s why.

Something Just Like This

Throughout the film, we got to hear "Something Just Like This" three times.

The first occurrence was in the quietude of Yu Xing's home. His uniform, crisp and unwrinkled, bore the weight of something yet unknown to us. Engaged in a deep conversation, he spoke more to himself than to Siri, who responded to him with empty words. Then, the melody enveloped the room, and Yu Xing's eyes sparkled with hope as volume turned up. "The louder, the better" he quipped, as if daring the universe to hear his secrets.

The second time we heard the song was on Chen Chen's 18th birthday. In the DJ booth, she glanced up to Xu Ying, who was half lost with his passion at that moment. He had curated a mixtape just for her, and the opening notes of "Something Just Like This" reverberated across the empty club. As she raised her hand up in the air, her heart skipped a beat. Yu Xing paused and greeted her with a heartfelt "Happy Birthday."

The final occurrence was when Ming stepped onto the stage. Chen Chen took a long glance at Yu Xing, whose face bore the neon-lit haze. The familiar song hung in the air, yet this time, it wasn’t at Yu Xing’s request or performed for Chen Chen. Instead, Ming played it as if for them that to the collective heartbeat of everyone present.

In my interpretation, these moments resonate the different trajectories of both characters as they grapple their inner truths. Initially, we only had Yu Xing who listened to this song by himself. Perhaps, at the outset, he lacks anyone to confide in, leaving him alone with his secret. Then, he crossed paths with Chen Chen, to whom he played this song for. Finally, he found someone who he could be honest with, both with his lies and hidden truths. On their final moments together, Ming made his long-awaited appearance. Once more, "Something Just Like This" filled our ears as both of them finally got the closure they needed. They whispered their secrets away, and they listened to their silent confessions against the cacophonies and spectacles around them.

In the future, if the people we like can also like us, how nice would that be?

Upon reading closely, it becomes evident that the song revolves around the idea that one need not strive for "ideal" or "perfection." Being true to oneself is enough to be appreciated and liked.

In the song, the persona expresses a longing to be something more, feeling frustrated by how less they think they are. However, this feeling dissipates when another persona reassures them. They reiterate that they are not seeking someone with superhuman abilities. Instead, they desire something relatable, someone they can turn to, miss, and kiss—something just like this.

Considering that Upcoming Summer may have an LGBT theme, it echoes Yu Xing’s dissatisfaction with himself. He may have believed that his sexuality rendered him less desirable. However, just like the other persona in the song, Chen Chen reminded him that we just need to face ourselves with more honesty, and be braver. These same words resonate with Yu Xing as well.

Summer Again

Now that I’ve calmed down, I finally saw Upcoming Summer without any biases towards Leo Wu or the stirred-up emotions from the reviews I read on Letterboxd.

Certainly, this film was worth watching, especially if you’re a fan of Leo Wu. You’ll appreciate and even commend this actor for taking up such a risky role, considering the potential backlash from Chinese audiences and his reputation as China's Little Brother. However, from an objective standpoint, after finishing the film six days ago, I must say that Upcoming Summer failed to convey its intended message to some viewers, including myself. One major shortcoming lies in the misleading trailer. Throughout, I believed it would be a “boy and girl’s love” story, only to discover something quite different: Chen Chen’s unreciprocated love for Yu Xing, while Yu Xing yearned for Ming, whose sexual identity remained uncertain. The film wasn’t honest and brave about its true theme, tricking viewers into expecting a heterosexual romance.

Another notable aspect was when he was punched by his father, resulting in severe hearing loss in his left ear. Reflecting on this, I wondered whether this plot point was strategically included to evoke sympathy from the audience and enhance the character’s admirable qualities, given that hearing is crucial for a DJ’s work.

Towards the film’s conclusion, we witness Yu Xing living his dream, yet there’s a brief emphasis on him wearing an ear implant before taking the stage with his beats.

Could this choice have been deliberate, making it more challenging for him to pursue his aspiration of becoming a DJ?

Lastly, I felt that Yu Xing’s kiss with Chen Chen was unnecessary at the end of the film. After confessing that she had a crush on him since their junior year, he leaned in to kiss her. At that moment, I hadn’t read anything yet on Letterboxd, so I assumed that Yu Xing had finally realized that he also liked Chen Chen. However, he later apologized with the words, “I wish I could like you back.”

Final Thoughts

The ending was ambiguous.

I still hoped to see the characters together as friends. However, three years later, at the Sanya music festival once again, we found them in the same moment—separated by the stage, yet connected through his music. For one last time, we saw Yu Xing in the perspective of Chen Chen.