A visual marvel, Flora Lau’s “Luz” is likely to send you out of the theater in search of palpable reality: some grass to touch, maybe, or a hand to hold.
Nearly all of her characters are shatteringly isolated, divided even in their faltering attempts at connection. But they are bound, at minimum, through a mystical deer created by a celebrated Chinese artist before he died. The deer sits at the center of a giant painting in a seedy Chongqing club, where strangers escape into virtual reality alone and together.
The club’s most popular VR world — called Luz, which means both “Light” and “Separation” — also involves the deer, who has to evade participants hunting it.