Sibxy PANH is a cross-cultural filmmaker and cinematographer whose practice draws on sociology and visual anthropology. I build stories from ordinary people, moving between reality and myth to trace the weight of choice. Rooted in my upbringing along the Lancang–Mekong region, my work keeps returning to questions of identity, belief, and lived conditions in an East Asian context: when family ethics, institutional order, and the anxieties of an era press onto a single person, how do they decide—and how does the cost settle into bodily pain, quiet endurance, and the smallest gestures of everyday life? I trust in “life made visible”: rather than explaining characters, I let the camera stay with their position, distance, actions, and pauses. A hesitant glance, an unsaid line, a compelled concession can carry more truth than any voiceover. Visually, I favor restrained emotional movement and tactile textures; narratively, I work with controlled structure and blocking, allowing silence and action to become the story.

My directorial documentary series Gaokao 2020 is co-directed by five filmmakers—Ryo Takeuchi (Japan), Mitchell Farkas (USA), Luo Fei (UK), Sibxy PANH (Cambodia), and Kang Chengye (China). Developed by the Decode China Studio, it is co-produced by Youku, the China International Communication Center (CICC), and National Geographic. The Director’s Cut premiered on August 24, 2020 on video platforms in China and overseas; the international version premiered on National Geographic (U.S.) on December 12, 2020 and continued airing into early 2021, marking the first time a major international broadcaster presented a documentary focused on China’s pandemic-era Gaokao. The film received Recognition in the COVID-19 category at the 8th Jiayuguan International Short Film Festival and won the Best International Communication Award at the 27th China Documentary Academy Awards.

Set during the COVID-19 outbreak in 2020, Gaokao 2020 follows students across five cities—Nanjing, Beijing, Shanghai, Ordos, and Wuhan. Their stories include: Li Yi, a Nanjing taxi driver who joins a volunteer “exam ride” initiative; Zhao Nanyin, a Beijing volleyball student supported by her family as she prepares; Xu Yunchi in Shanghai, who sits the exam while ill; Su Yan, a Morin Khuur performer in Ordos rethinking her artistic path; and Wang Kejun in Wuhan navigating extraordinary constraints in the final stretch of preparation. The international edition adopts a modular chapter structure, adding historical context on the Gaokao and explanations of public-health measures, while using cultural symbols such as face masks and qipao to sketch a broader social portrait under lockdown.

For me, Gaokao 2020 is not only about an exam. Under the pressure of a public crisis, it makes “choice” concrete: someone weighs family expectations against their own body; someone searches for a narrow opening between institutional procedure and emotional ethics; someone keeps silent amid the noise of the times and continues to act. The camera is not aiming for conclusions of a grand narrative, but for how reality enters an individual’s daily life—and leaves traces in every breath, every step, and every swallowed sentence.