Photo by Yukun Chan
By Mary Smith
In the ever-evolving world of visual storytelling, Chang Su stands out as a dynamic force, seamlessly blending his talents as a Director of Photography and Colorist to create impactful and memorable cinematic experiences.
Based in Los Angeles, Su’s work spans narrative films, documentaries, fashion projects, commercials, and even the burgeoning micro-drama scene, consistently earning accolades and captivating audiences worldwide.
Still from Jin (2024). Cinematography and color grading by Chang Su. Courtesy of Hsiao-Hsia Huang.
Su’s reputation as a sought-after DP is built on his ability to weave together steady, efficient problem-solving with a vibrant, story-driven visual style. He has a knack for translating directorial vision into compelling imagery, evident in his work on festival darlings like Jin, a Rhode Island International Film Festival semi-finalist, and Nameless, which earned recognition at WorldFest Houston and the Santa Monica Film Festival. His mastery of clear camera movement coupled with expressive tonal contrast creates a visual language that is both crisp and emotionally resonant.
Still from A Song River (2024), color grading by Chang Su. Courtesy of Zhu Xin
But Su’s expertise extends beyond the camera. As a colorist, he possesses a remarkable ability to unify disparate elements, forging a cohesive visual palette that elevates the overall narrative. He demonstrated this skill on Zhu Xin’s feature documentary, A Song River, which garnered prestigious awards at the Pingyao International Film Festival. He also played a pivotal role in the professional presentation of the short film Manting, contributing to its recognition across five Oscar-qualifying festivals.
Recognizing the growing power of mobile storytelling, Su has also made a significant impact on the micro-drama landscape. He shot and graded Falling for a Superstar, a wildly popular vertical drama that topped DataEye’s charts with over 110 million points. Furthermore, he shaped the visual tone of Baby Trapped by the Billionaire, a ReelShort sensation with a staggering 38 million views, solidifying his position at the forefront of this exciting new format.
What sets Su apart is his profound understanding of how subtle emotional shifts can be amplified through visual cues. His Shanghai roots and formal training at the School of Visual Arts and Chapman University’s Dodge College have instilled in him a unique perspective, allowing him to navigate diverse cultural and creative landscapes with ease.
Whether working with indie crews or large-scale productions across Asia and North America, his commitment remains unwavering: to deliver boundary-breaking visual language that not only captures a director’s vision but also imprints itself on the viewer’s memory, long after the final frame. In a world saturated with content, Chang Su is crafting visual stories that truly stand out. He speaks to 1883 about his latest projects, his approach to storytelling and his favorite film quotes.
Still from Baby Steps (2023). Cinematography and color grading by Chang Su. Courtesy of Ana Farre Moutinho.
How did you know that being a Director of Photography and Colorist was for you?
Chang Su: I’ve always loved striking visuals, but the lightning-bolt moment came as a teenager watching Wong Kar-wai’s Chungking Express. I kept shouting, “The light! The shadow! The color!” and knew I wanted to spark that same excitement for others. Even then I understood such magic demands every department working in harmony, and I couldn’t wait to join a team I respect to build shared fantasies. That thrill has never faded.
Once I began shooting and coloring, the feeling crystallized: I never want to stop polishing. In prep I rack my brains to design shots that truly work, and in post I push the footage to its furthest potential. I live for the instant the image finally meets my evolving standard.
Films later deepened my love: moments like the old man in Umberto D. lifting his hat to beg, or the doomed soldiers in Paths of Glory. Stories of people choosing under pressure guide every frame I craft. Collections such as Future Reloaded revealed cinema’s boundlessness: essay, prose, even poetry, yet only moving images can hold it. Recognizing that limitless possibility, alongside my obsession with refining all night, confirmed that cinematography and color are exactly where I belong.
How did you start out?
My path began in high school, shooting and editing videos for every campus event, narratives, even music-video mash-ups. I directed some of them, yet the identity that stuck was the person behind the camera. I planned, shot, and re-cut those pieces night after night, sacrificing study hours for extra takes, and realized nothing else absorbed me so completely. Those early pieces, in hindsight, foreshadowed the range I cover today.
Unlike many peers, my passion grew from production rather than movie watching. I created promos and narratives, fascinated by how framing, pacing, and color could sway an audience far more than any textbook. The moment I saw the audience react to footage I had shaped, I felt validation. Entering college, the Director of Photography track felt inevitable.
Color followed just as naturally. After years polishing still photos, grading footage felt like painting with light anew. I colored others’ projects, then strangers’, then paid gigs. one referral at a time, while still serving as DP. Each job expanded my tool kit and deepened my respect for the craft. That steady climb from film school shoots to bigger festival-screening sets, collaborating across genres, is how I stepped into the industry as both DP and Colorist, and the momentum still drives me today.
Behind the scenes on The Reunion (2021). Photo by Chang Su.
For the uninitiated, what does a Director of Photography do? What does a colorist do? How do they work together, these roles?
A Director of Photography is in charge of how the movie looks. I talk with the director, then choose lenses, camera angles, and lighting so each shot feels right for the story. On set I lead the camera and lighting crew, ensure lighting consistency while supporting the scene’s tone and story, and set exposure so the footage stays flexible later. In short, I collect the raw visual material and try to give every frame a clear mood and shape.
A colorist takes that footage into a grading suite and finishes the image. I balance brightness, tweak contrast, and guide the overall color so different scenes flow together and match our first plan. It is less about fixing mistakes and more about making the picture feel complete. A small lift in shadows can make a scene softer, a gentle push toward warmer tones can add hope. The goal is to reach the emotion we talked about in prep.
These two jobs overlap from the start. I shoot camera tests, share reference stills, and keep the grading space in mind while lighting on set. Later, as colorist, I know exactly why a light was placed or a lens was chosen, so adjustments stay true to the original intent.
Still from A Song River (2024), color grading by Chang Su. Courtesy of Zhu Xin
Can you talk about how you helped direct the visual vision for Zhu Xin’s A Song River? What is the film about and what did you contribute?
A Song River is a 95-minute documentary that follows director Zhu Xin and Hong Kong lyricist Siu Hak as they drift from Hangzhou’s Fenghuang Mountain down to Victoria Harbour, trying to re-awaken Su Shi’s thousand-year-old poem “Jiang Cheng Zi.” What begins as literary fieldwork becomes a meditation on vanishing local memory and the meaning of home in cities that change overnight.
Zhu told me he wanted the film to feel like a living Song-dynasty ink painting: misty greys and jade greens that slowly cool into neon blues when the journey reaches Hong Kong. Building on that idea, I assembled his references and film stills into a reference deck, grouped by location and time of day, and proposed a muted ink-wash palette that would warm in the north and thin into colder hues in the south.
Because we worked remotely, we exchanged graded test stills & clips online until the tonal map felt right. In the final grade I kept contrast low yet solid, softened highlights and steered skin tones toward a consistent warm-grey so dozens of uncontrolled lighting situations would still sit on one emotional arc. The result keeps the authenticity of documentary footage while letting color whisper the story’s gradual shift from rooted past to flickering present.
Overall, what defines your style as a Director of Photography?
I do not begin a film with a stock visual formula. My first question is always: “What does this story need to feel true?” Narrative tone, character psychology, and environment then guide every choice of camera position, light quality, lens, and color. From there I shape the look from the inside out. Of course parts of myself appear on screen: years spent moving between cultures, studying films, and taking pictures have trained my eye, so viewers sometimes trace a quiet through line of restrained contrast and patient framing. Yet that “signature” is something I discover only after the fact.
Roger Deakins summarizes the idea perfectly: “I do not think I have a style, I hope I have a style that suits the project I am on.” Emmanuel Lubezki, Greig Fraser, and Darius Khondji have said pretty much the same. Their agreement reinforces my conviction that style is a by-product of honest problem solving, never a badge you pin on before walking to set. What defines my work is then adaptability rooted in authenticity: story first, technique second, signature left to follow.
What color palette do you love working with the most, onscreen?
It’s hard to single out one palette, because every project and every director demands something different. Personally I do lean toward earthy tones: ochres, muted greens, soft reds, because they feel grounded and comfortable, but that preference only surfaces when it serves the story. As a DP or colorist I’m not starting from zero; I’m shaping color around a script and a director’s authorship. So my favorites matter less than the film’s needs. They show up only as gentle inclinations inside the creative choices I make, never as fixed rules.
Still from Jin (2024). Cinematography and color grading by Chang Su. Courtesy of Hsiao-Hsia Huang.
How did you contribute to award winning films like Jin, The Reunion and Nameless?
My part in Jin, The Reunion, and Nameless was less about an eye-catchy look and more about a way of thinking. I meet directors early, listen for their personal voice, and build a visual plan that fits only that film. I am not a fan of copy-pasting the classic wide/medium/close recipe. If one flowing shot that shifts angle and size inside the frame tells the scene better, I lean into that and let it do the work of several cuts.
Limitations like tight rooms, tiny budgets, fading daylight aren’t problems to hide; they’re prompts for invention. A cramped hallway might force a low dolly that feels like the character’s heartbeat. A single household lamp can become a key light if I block the action with the director to pass through its glow. Instead of waiting for “perfect” conditions to unfold, I make the image from the camera outward, choosing lenses, angles, and movement that turn obstacles into texture. Since every decision is tied back to the director’s intent, the finished films feel authored rather than generic. The clear, scene-specific design shaped by trust with the director and a willingness to go beyond traditional coverage, has helped those three projects stand out and played a part in their festival success.
Still from The Reunion (2021), Cinematography and color grading by Chang Su. Courtesy of Zidan Wang
You understand that the power of film is through emotional connection. You’ve said: “Long after the details of a plot fade, a moment of genuine feeling remains. Crafting images that carry such emotional weight has become central to my growth as a visual storyteller.” Can you explain this?
I always think about the one moment that matters. The story can spin a thousand details but audiences keep one feeling afterward, and I aim for that piece of emotion everyone takes home. During prep, I sit with the director and ask, which beat do we want people to remember years later. Once we agree I build every lens choice, lighting decision, and camera move to make that feeling land.
A lot of directors back this up. Ingmar Bergman once said “Film goes straight to our emotions.” Cinema only works when it pulls viewers deeper into the characters, no matter what format or gadget we use. I keep that in mind on set.
Because I also edit sometimes, I see on the timeline how a pause, a close up, or even a bit of silence between shots can turn simple sympathy into real connection. That loop between set and edit keeps me honest. If a part does not carry emotion it gets dropped. When someone tells me a moment from my work still echoes in their heads long after, I know we hit the mark, and that feels like real success to me.
Still from Long Night’s Journey into Dawn (2018), Cinematography and color grading by Chang Su. Courtesy of Nick Shi
