Although the ideal body, which consistently appears in the revolutionary manifestos, transformative movements, and artworks, plays an important role in imagining a Utopian humanity of modern China, it proves to be impossible because of the destructive acceleration and fragmentation of the questionable local modernity. Probing into the last Chinese horror film before the Sino-Japan War, I would explore the strategies that artists experimented with to manifest, memorize, and mask the perceptive discomfort aroused by the deformed city and corporality. A nice young man from a roving theatrical troupe is identified by a disfigured artist-revolutionist as his ideal friend who shares the same objet petit a in the struggle for a brighter future. Set against the complicated social condition as well as the consumption culture, Song at Midnight articulates the conflicting discourses and the cinematic technologies to encapsulate the traumatic experiences. The monstrous hero, who lives in a fiercely expressionist world, calls himself “a historian suffering from the excruciation†that hints being deprived of any sexual interaction with his lover, a psychopath expelled by her wealthy and tyrannic father. Eventually, the healthy and handsome actor becomes the incarnation of Song who commits suicide, while the dandy vitriol-throws and inhumanly murders. Virilio quotes Renoir’s remarks that the war “subverts the proper experience of sex and death.†(2009, p. 28) As a reference to both the social and the psychological disorders, the film stirs and releases the public obsession with subjective purity. The wounded won’t quiet, keeping the two approaches to produce prosthesis embodied in the occupational shift of Lu Xun in suspense. The deceased will “sits up in his tomb, saying ‘when I turn to ashes, you will see me smile.’†(Lu Xun, 2003, p.82) Our literature as a whole at times seems a chamber of horrors disguised as an amusement park “fun house,†where we pay to play at terror and are confronted in the innermost chamber with a series of inter-reflecting mirrors which present us with a thousand versions of our own face. (Skal, 2001, p. 29)