And it's this energy that ddm is striving to harness. The 450 square metre art space, which includes an exhibition room, a 50-seat screening room and library, is run by a staff of six as somewhere people can not just see art, but discuss it freely. Liu says directors of independent films need a place to communicate their ideas. 'We want to provide a place for independent film directors to get their films shown and where people interested in non-mainstream films can view them.'

The few degrees that separate filmmakers featured at ddm highlights the small size of the mainland independent film world. For example, directors Cheng and Cui are both collaborators and friends. Cui plays the gay father in Cheng's Destination Shanghai. 'His personality is key for the mood of the film,' Cheng says. 'When you see Zi'en, you wonder if he's a lady or man, gay or not gay. To me Shanghai is like that. Very confused and seductive.'

By inviting Shanghai directors such as Cheng, who portray the city in various and sometimes unflattering lights, ddm allows Shanghai natives to reflect on themselves and their city. Cheng says that in filming his other movie, Shanghai Panic, based on the book We are Panic by banned author Mian Mian, he wanted to capture the Shanghai zeitgeist. 'Shanghai Panic uses local slang and the Shanghai dialect. The story is real, the acting is real. I think people living in Shanghai will understand the roots of this story.'

Although the staff at ddm claim their choices of directors are not based on a didactic agenda, the content of movies shown in ddm's film series suggests they seek directors who willfully challenge the popular pastoral tales of woe and sappy urban love stories dominating the Chinese box office.

In Cui's movie ET there is a relatively candid love scene between two men. And Cheng's Destination Shanghai reveals much of Shanghai's sexual underworld. 'Many people wouldn't know that China has an S&M culture, but it does,' says Cheng. His movie uncovers this truth in a humorous but tragic encounter between John and his reluctant 'money boy' paid by the hour.

In response to rumours spread about Chinese government campaigns to silence artists and others with divergent points of view, Cheng says he hasn't encountered a problem with censorship. 'The film industry is opening up because the government realises it has to.'

Liu, the ddm director, concurs, saying they haven't had a problem with interference. 'As long as the subject matter is not political in nature, the government won't stop our screenings,' she says. While she acknowledges that by showing less mainstream and more artistic films is contributing to an opening up of expression, she says they are more concerned with showing skilfully made films.

Directors showing their films at ddm might have more to fear from audiences and critics than government censors. One film-goer decried Destination Shanghai, shown last year at the Hong Kong International Film Festival, as displaying a 'false and negative view of Shanghai life'. But according to Shanghai native Eric Li, the movie shows the reality of a certain part of Shanghai. 'Of course it doesn't represent all of us, but no movie could ever capture all sides of life and lifestyles ... China needs this type of movie.'

By attracting lesser-known filmmakers, ddm gives audiences and directors a rare opportunity to exchange ideas about the art of movie-making and myriad social issues. Cheng says the side of China he represents in his films is in stark contrast to the romanticised images of a rustic or ancient China that dominate much of Chinese film.

'Western audiences step into the cinema and they are used to seeing Chinese movies about farmers in small towns. They think China shouldn't have high-rises, but huts ... so in some ways I smash their dreams, ideas, fantasies, or perceptions about Chinese cities.'

Shanghai resident Eric Li believes the importance of ddm lies not only in providing a space to view more obscure films, but also an opportunity to interact with directors and other audience members. 'I'm a businessman so I wouldn't normally come to an art gallery, and I don't discuss these topics with people who don't know I'm gay, but it's good to know that we can watch and discuss the films' content in the gallery.'

Most recently, director Wang Xiao- shuai brought his films to ddm. In 1994 Wang won his first taste of notoriety after directing The Days, which deals frankly with issues such as sexuality and identity, and which was swiftly banned by the Chinese board of censors, and thus gained popularity in the west. He made his first foray into the international film festival circuit with 1999's So Close to Paradise, which was also originally banned by Chinese censors. Wang is probably best known for Beijing Bicycle, which earned him the Silver Bear at the 2001 Berlin Film Festival.

Although these films were well known by audiences at ddm, for most it was the first viewing of Wang's 2003 Cannes Film Festival entry The Drifters, which tells the story of illegal Chinese migrants in the US readjusting to life after their return to China. For many, it was the first time they had seen his movies on the big screen.

Despite his relative fame as a member of China's 'sixth generation' of filmmakers, Wang views showing at ddm in his native Shanghai as a kind of homecoming. 'I started showing movies at bars, and from the beginning I have come to this kind place to show my films because this type of space is important to film.'

The organisers offer a wordy rationale for showing films of such brevity, but whatever the reason, the debut of Wink at ddm before a proposed nationwide tour helps further cement its reputation as a hothouse for alternative film projects.

Additional reporting by Marilyn Ma Ling