犬子 / My Son
Called to the rented room where his son has hanged himself, a middle-aged father is met by the landlord's invoice rather than condolence: "A man died in my apartment — you, the father, will pay." He drags himself between train stations, hospitals and police offices in a city that isn't his, greeted not with sympathy but with sneers — "Not an ounce of manhood in you." Back home, a black dog chained in the shadows is the only family left to him: stand-in for the dead son, mirror of a life leashed by livelihood, gossip and patriarchy. The Chinese title 犬子 — humble for "my son," literal for "dog son" — slides back and forth across both meanings, leaving one question quietly burning: once a man is stripped even of the word "father," what does he still get to be?
Play Episode 1