Chinese Animation’s Big Leap: Examining the Nezha Phenomenon

This summer, China’s multiplexes were awash with major stars, both domestic (such as Andy Lau and Louis Koo in The White Storm 2: Drug Lords and Deng Chao in Looking Up) and international (such as Dwayne Johnson and Jason Statham in Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw and the superhero ensemble of Avengers: Endgame). However, the season’s biggest draw was unquestionably Nezha, a rebellious animated tyke whose mythical struggle between good and evil emerged as a record-breaking phenomenon. Loosely based on the classic 16th-century novel Investiture of the Gods, the 3D computer animation Nezha became the second most successful Chinese film of all time with a gross of over US$700 million.

Although the amount made Nezha the ninth highest-grossing film in the world of 2019 so far, 99.5 percent of its ticket sales were from China’s domestic market. This trend is common for Chinese blockbusters, which rarely break out globally yet prove fascinating to major swaths of Chinese cinephiles and industry analysts. Unpacking the Nezha phenomenon reveals a clever blend of East and West while raising questions about the future of China’s animation sector.

Written and directed by Yu Yang (aka Jiaozi), Nezha puts a contemporary spin on a story that was previously told in the traditional animated feature Prince Nezha’s Triumph Against the Dragon King (1979) and the cartoon television series The Legend of Nezha (2003). This interpretation again pivots on the fate of the eponymous boy who is born as the cursed reincarnation of a demon to human parents Li Jing, a military officer, and Lady Yin. Aware of their son’s destiny to destroy the world, they keep him away from villagers terrified of his powers, which include conjuring fireballs. Will he succumb to his fate or reject it and become a force for good?

While the film is steeped in Chinese mythology, Nezha is surprisingly accessible because it emulates the storytelling tropes and visual sensibility of its Hollywood counterparts. The animation quality of Nezha represents a concentrated effort to compete with entertainment usually provided by Hollywood—in this case companies such as Pixar, DreamWorks and Blue Sky. A zippy fantasy that juggles action, humor and heartfelt emotion, it aspires to a level of technical sophistication rarely seen in China’s animation sector.

Yu largely achieves his goal, particularly in a stunning battle that pits fire against ice and exaggerated character designs brimming with personality. Nezha may be an impish demon-child but the boy is imbued with a mischievous zeal that makes him an endearing anti-hero. As much as the landscapes are adorned with Chinese elements, they are navigated with the brisk sweep of standard DreamWorks productions such as Kung Fu Panda (2008) and The Croods (2013), especially in sequences in which the environment is ruptured by large-scale chaos. The adult-skewing humor that became a crucial aspect of the revitalized Disney brand of the 1990s abounds with jokes about passwords, music cues that riff on the theme of The Terminator (1984) and elaborate pranks that recall Rube Goldberg contraptions. In post-Marvel parlance, Nezha is very much an “origin story” with emphasis on universe building. The multiple end credit sequences suggest not only stories to come but also story arcs for supporting characters. Yet delving deeper reveals a socially engaged mainstream product that has much to say about contemporary Chinese culture from a youthful perspective.

Nezha’s unfortunate circumstances position him as a champion of equality in a society rife with prejudice. With a protagonist who is equal parts victim and victimizer, the film succeeds in delivering a nuanced commentary on bullying, a social problem rarely addressed in China’s live action cinema. Reasons for his negative behavior are thoroughly explored. First is the absence of Nezha’s work-orientated parents who are too busy maintaining hierarchy to raise him. This leaves Nezha to amuse himself through immature feuds that are executed with video game fluidity, providing a link to China’s booming gaming culture and the influence it exerts on young players. Gaming has captured the nation’s youth with side effects including severe mood swings and a lack of sensitivity towards the real world. Only when Nezha acknowledges his need for friendship after meeting Ao Bing, the similarly powerful son of a dragon king, does he begin practicing self-control and reigning in his negative behavior that pushes others away.

Given the popularity of animation in China, it seems as if a success like Nezha was long overdue. Looking beyond Hollywood, contemporary animation is most associated with Japan, particularly companies such as Studio Ghibli, Production I.G and Madhouse. China has a rich animation history considering its first notable animated feature was Princess Iron Fan back in 1941. In recent years, the computer animated Monkey King: Hero Is Back (2015) boasted breathtaking visuals while the traditionally rendered Big Fish & Begonia (2016) conveyed a Chinese myth through aesthetics reminiscent of Studio Ghibli. However, a lack of industrial structure and rigorous training institutions has caused Chinese animation to be plagued by stop-start evolution and lag behind its Japanese counterpart.

Indeed, media coverage of Nezha has emphasized its outlier status. It’s the kind of underdog story that can be filed alongside Crazy Stone (2006), Wolf Warrior 2 (2017) and The Wandering Earth (2019). Yu, who was studying to become a pharmacist when he started animating, labored on Nezha for five years. Contrasting products of a single animation house, the film required participation from over 20 visual effects companies whose services were pulled together in an ad hoc manner. Further industry development is sorely needed for this level of quality to become standard. Until then, Nezha’s combustible antics will serve as a tantalizing glimpse of a movie-going landscape where local animated features are regular contenders for China’s summer box office crown. 

The author is a lecturer in film and language studies at Renmin University of China. He is the co-editor of World Film Locations: Beijing (Intellect, 2012) and World Film Locations: Shanghai (Intellect, 2014). He also contributed to Electric Shadows: A Century of Chinese Cinema (BFI, 2014).