Why Do Old Apartments in Taiwanese Movies Always Have Iron Windows and Rooftop Additions? It's Not Just Set Design — The Real Reasons Most People Don't Know

Watching Taiwanese films, you might feel a strange sense of familiarity. Characters step out of their homes into alleys packed with scooters; the camera pans upward to reveal old apartment windows covered in iron bars, balconies extended outward, and an extra metal-roofed room added on the rooftop. Wires, signs, air conditioning units, clotheslines, and water tanks all crammed into a single frame. These scenes may appear to be deliberately crafted by art departments to evoke a 'Taiwanese aesthetic,' but looking back at Taiwan's post-war residential and urban development history, many of these elements were already present in real cities — accumulated layer by layer over time. Especially from the late 1970s to the 1980s, on-location shooting, everyday environments, and ordinary people's lives gradually became key visual choices for a generation of Taiwanese creators. As cameras entered real streets, apartments, and residential areas, the iron windows, awnings, rooftop spaces, and various home modifications residents had made over the years naturally entered the films. Decades later, when we look back, old apartments, narrow alleys, iron windows, and rooftop additions have become a uniquely authentic Taiwanese urban landscape that is nearly impossible to artificially recreate.

Today, walking through Taipei's old districts, four- to five-story walk-up apartments have become symbols of 'old Taipei.' But over half a century ago, these buildings were not old — they actually represented people's vision of modern urban life. According to the National Taiwan University's Institute of Architecture and Urban Research thesis 'The Birth of the Apartment,' Taipei began rapidly undergoing an 'apartment-ization' process in the 1950s and 1960s, with apartments gradually becoming the dominant urban residential landscape. Residential research published by the Taipei Fine Arts Museum also notes that 'apartments' began appearing in cities in the 1950s, and by 1965, a brand-new five-story public housing complex in Sihwei Li stood in stark contrast to the surrounding traditional single-story homes. In other words, the five-story apartments now seen as outdated cityscapes were once symbols of a new urban housing form.

But what truly made Taiwan's streetscapes distinctive was that buildings did not remain frozen in their original architectural designs after completion. Residents adapted their living spaces to meet practical needs — extending balconies, installing iron windows, adding awnings, and utilizing rooftop areas — gradually altering the once-uniform building exteriors. Over decades of use by different residents, the windows, balconies, and rooftops of the same apartment building began to take on different appearances. Thus, the old apartments we see today were not 'completed' in a single moment, but continuously used, expanded, and modified over decades of lived experience.

One of the most striking features is rooftop additions. Looking down from high-rise buildings over Taipei's old residential areas, it's common to see metal roofs, brick walls, or even full rooms added atop four- or five-story apartments. These structures may seem haphazard, but they are closely tied to Taipei's rapid post-war population growth and long-standing housing shortages. Public Television's 'Stories Behind the Scenes' compiled historical housing data showing that after the war, a large influx of people entered Taiwan, followed by continuous rural-to-urban migration into Taipei. The city's population surged from about 270,000 post-war to over one million by 1963. A 1964 survey even revealed that about one-third of Taipei's population lived in illegal constructions at the time. With housing supply unable to keep up with population growth, the city constantly sought ways to increase livable space.

In the late 1960s, to address housing shortages and given the construction conditions of the time, three- to four-story walk-up apartments were promoted by policy, and soon, four- to five-story apartments were widely built by private developers. By the 1980s, these buildings had replaced many single-story homes and become a major housing form in Taipei. As urban population and housing demand continued to rise, existing building rooftops gradually became usable spaces. This is the key urban context behind the widespread appearance of rooftop additions on old Taipei apartments.

However, rooftop additions from different eras were treated differently under regulations. Taipei's current 'Illegal Construction Handling Rules' classify them based on formation date: illegal structures built after January 1, 1995, are defined as 'new illegal constructions,' while those existing between January 1, 1964, and December 31, 1994, are categorized as 'existing illegal constructions.' The system itself shows that this issue has accumulated in the city for decades. So when a film shows an iron-roofed room suddenly appearing atop an apartment, it may look messy, but it could actually carry traces of Taipei's rapid population growth and housing shortages from decades ago.

Another common feature in Taiwan's old streetscapes is iron windows. When people today see entire buildings covered in iron bars, their first thought might be, 'How bad was the crime rate back then?' But the history of iron windows in Taiwan is more complex than imagined. The National Center for Traditional Arts' 'ChuanYi Online' compiled the history of iron window designs, noting that iron windows in Taiwan date back to the Japanese colonial era, but were primarily used in government buildings, not common in private homes. After WWII, as the economy gradually recovered and residential forms shifted from traditional courtyard houses to apartments and Western-style buildings, iron windows and railings became widely used in private homes, with one key function being theft prevention.

As ironwork craftsmanship developed, iron windows evolved beyond mere protection. Artisans began incorporating butterfly, longevity peach, vase, chrysanthemum, geometric patterns, and even Mount Fuji designs into the ironwork. What began as a safety feature gradually became a space for homeowners to express aesthetics and for craftsmen to showcase their skills. Therefore, the intricate iron floral patterns seen on old apartment windows in films today may simultaneously reflect residential security needs, post-war architectural development, and folk craftsmanship. And for the people who actually lived there at the time, these iron windows may not have carried the 'retro' feeling we associate with them today. They were simply part of daily life — opening windows, hanging laundry, watching street life unfold.

By the late 1970s and 1980s, more and more Taiwanese films began shooting directly on real streets and in residential areas. Early Taiwanese films often used studio sets or constructed scenes, but during the era when creators like Chen Kunhou and Hou Hsiao-hsien were active, shooting on real streets, in villages, and in everyday life settings became increasingly important. The National Film and Audiovisual Culture Center noted that 'on-location shooting' and 'depicting everyday surroundings,' later recognized as key features of the Taiwanese New Cinema movement, began to take shape during this period.

Edward Yang turned Taipei itself into part of his films. The 1986 film 'The Terrorizers' opens with a police chase through city alleys; after the young woman Shu'an escapes from a building and hides in a lane, Taipei's apartments and streets immediately become part of the narrative. The apartment spaces in the film also play a crucial role. The National Audiovisual Center's production records note that Yang once rented an apartment in Minsheng Community to rehearse scenes.

The National Audiovisual Center later even organized walking tours of Taipei's urban landscapes based on Yang's films, from Dihua Street, Songshan, and Minsheng Community in the 1970s–80s to Da'an District and the East District in the 1990s and beyond, precisely because his works documented not just characters, but also the changing image of Taipei. The new apartments, office buildings, and streets in 'Taipei Story,' the apartments, back alleys, and modern architecture in 'The Terrorizers,' and the recurring homes, offices, glass curtain walls, and roads in 'Yi Yi' — all show that Taipei is more than just a backdrop. 'Yi Yi' and Tsai Ming-liang's 'What Time Is It There?' have also been discussed by researchers in the context of Taipei's modern urban space, analyzing the relationships between architecture, roads, and people's lives.

Recurring homes, offices, glass curtain walls, and roads in 'Yi Yi.' (Image/Weibo)

Taiwanese films aren't intentionally making cities look ugly — they're preserving the real traces of everyday life in their frames. Looking back at alleys, iron windows, old apartments, and rooftop additions, we realize something fascinating: these elements repeatedly appear in films not to deliberately emphasize 'Taiwan-ness,' but because they already existed in the city. Directors reframe the city through location selection, lighting, and composition, but the real streetscapes already carry decades of accumulated life traces.

The apartments that emerged in large numbers from the 1950s and 60s, the iron windows, awnings, and rooftop spaces added by residents, scooters parked in alleys, air conditioners jutting from walls, clothes drying on balconies, and the jumbled mix of buildings from different eras — these were originally just the result of ordinary life accumulating over time. When filmmakers brought cameras into real cities, these elements naturally entered the frame.

More interestingly, buildings age, but films preserve that moment. In the 1980s, audiences watching 'The Terrorizers' saw Taipei's apartments and streets as just ordinary urban environments. Decades later, they have become an urban visual archive. The same windows, alleys, apartments, street corners, and rooftops record not just film characters, but also how Taiwanese people lived across different eras.