RICHARD-Critic-LosAngles

As the most anticipated animated blockbuster of 2025, Ne Zha 2 has grossed more than $2.2 billion since its release in China earlier this year, ranking as the fifth-highest-grossing film in global box office history. Yet its English-language version, which opened in North America last Friday (August 22), failed to sustain that momentum. Despite a robust promotional push by A24, a voice cast led by Michelle Yeoh, and a wide rollout across 2,228 theaters (including IMAX), the film earned only $1.5 million in its first three days-placing 13th at the box office. By contrast, Netflix's KPop Demon Hunters, opening the very next day in just 1,700 theaters, pulled in $18 million.

When news first broke that Ne Zha 2 would premiere in the U. S., some outlets heralded it as a "litmus test" of American audiences' appetite for Chinese storytelling. In retrospect, the results are sobering. The film's performance underscores a persistent reality: the more deeply a work is rooted in Chinese cultural elements, the harder it becomes for it to cross over in the U. S. market. Recent Chinese stage productions and cinematic blockbusters have encountered similar challenges on American soil.

Unlike the familiar narrative templates of Disney or Pixar, Ne Zha 2 leans heavily into its "mythic Chinese texture." It picks up directly from the 2019 original, with characters drawn from the 16th-century novel Investiture of the Gods and centuries of folk mythology. There is little handholding for new or unfamiliar audiences-the film plunges straight into large-scale battles. For Chinese viewers, this continuity feels seamless; for American audiences without prior knowledge, it can be alienating.

At 150 minutes, the film is epic in scope and brimming with spectacle, but its length far exceeds the typical attention span of children and, arguably, adults conditioned by TikTok. At the same time, its mix of emotional beats, slapstick humor, and shonen-style battles places it closer to Japanese anime such as Naruto or Dragon Ball Z than to Hollywood's family-oriented animated features. To viewers raised on Pixar's emotional formula or Disney's fairy-tale adventures, Ne Zha 2 comes across as "too complex" while still "not fairy-tale enough." Even a star-studded English dub cannot erase this cultural divide.

The film's rapid pacing compounds the issue. After only a brief recap, it drops viewers directly into its fantastical reimagining of ancient China, with the resurrected spirits of Ne Zha and Ao Bing immediately swept into massive battles. For those unfamiliar with the original film or the mythological references, it can feel overwhelming and disorienting.

Still, the weak North American box office should not be mistaken for a dismissal of the film's artistic or cultural value. Rather, it highlights a deeper challenge for Chinese cinema: the true barrier to "going global" is not quality, but whether its cultural language can be understood and embraced across borders.

The chilly reception to Ne Zha 2 in the U. S. points to a crucial question: how can Chinese films remain true to their cultural roots while also building more effective bridges for cross-cultural communication? The key may not lie in dubbing or casting international stars, but in finding universal emotions and narrative frameworks that resonate beyond cultural boundaries.

Of course, like Ne Zha 2 and several other record-breaking Chinese productions, these films remain enormous successes at home. The rise of large domestic studios has enabled blockbusters such as Hi, Mom and Wolf Warrior 2 to gross hundreds of millions-almost entirely from Chinese audiences. For many filmmakers and investors, overseas box office now seems increasingly secondary, if not altogether irrelevant.

On Friday, August 22, the Bright Future of Humanity Global AI Film Competition officially kicked off at the Steven J Ross Theater on the Warner Bros. Studio lot in Burbank, the heart of Hollywood filmmaking. Veteran Hollywood producer Ellen Eliasoph was invited as a special guest and spoke during the forum session.

After the event, casual conversation turned to the recent Chinese box-office hit The Shadow's Edge. The film's director Larry Yang and producer Victoria Hon are close friends of Eliasoph, who later joined a special "Expert Screening" session on August 26 to watch the film.

The film tells the story of a hacker gang that steals billions in cryptocurrency and outsmarts the police AI surveillance system known as "Sky Eye." With no other options, Macau police recruit retired surveillance master Huang Dezhong "Jackie Chan" to mentor rookie officer He Qiuguo "Zhang Zifeng" and rebuild the "mysterious surveillance team." Together, they face off against criminal mastermind Fu Longsheng "Tony Leung Ka-Fai", in a tightly wound game of cat and mouse. Within the framework of a crime-action thriller, the film cleverly weaves in trendy elements of AI and cryptocurrency, while contrasting old-school tailing methods with modern surveillance technology, creating fresh narrative tension.

The film's greatest strength is its pacing. The story unfolds almost like it's in "fast-forward," yet character development doesn't suffer. Jackie Chan's Huang Dezhong turns logical deduction into part of his physical performance-"action in sync with thought"-delivering exactly the kind of high-energy summer spectacle audiences crave. While calling it Chan's best performance in a decade might be overstating things-his acting and action remain firmly in his signature style-this is certainly the best project he has been part of in the past ten years. Director Larry Yang's brisk pacing and light comedic touch also mesh perfectly with Chan's current on-screen persona of "retired but not resting."

Tony Leung Ka-Fai, as always, delivers an outstanding performance. His portrayal of Fu Longsheng is chilling, cunning, and nearly unhinged, carried off with great ease. Surprisingly, his action sequences are even more intense and plentiful than Chan's, raising concerns about whether the 67-year-old star could endure such physical demands. Yet whether in action or dialogue, his face-offs with Chan generate riveting tension, especially in three key scenes-the elevator, the market, and the home confrontation-all of which are highlights of the film.

The film also carries forward the aesthetic of "Hong Kong street realism." Many pivotal moments unfold in everyday settings: subtle probing in an elevator, psychological sparring in a marketplace, and veiled confrontations over a shared meal. These lived-in details bring the characters vividly to life. The fraught intimacy between Fu Longsheng and his son Xiwang-expressed through a bowl of noodles or the act of shaving-captures the delicate balance of affection and menace in their relationship.

Among the younger cast, Zhang Zifeng avoids being overshadowed. As He Qiuguo, she maintains a strong presence even between heavyweights Chan and Leung, her lively performance showcasing a positive generational handoff.

That said, in films headlined by Jackie Chan, younger actors often struggle to shine. The "wolf pack of adopted sons," touted in the film's promotion, feels underdeveloped. Aside from CiSha, who plays dual roles as Xiwang and Ximeng, other young actors-including Wen Junhui "Jun of Seventeen" have little screen time.

One behind-the-scenes detail stands out: Jackie Chan reminding Zhang Zifeng to thank the stunt performers "No matter what you do, learn to be a good person first." That off-screen lesson may be the film's most touching moment.

Overall, The Shadow's Edge blends old-school and modern storytelling with down-to-earth human touches. It retains the familiar hallmarks of a Jackie Chan action film while reviving a long-missed sharpness. At over 140 minutes, it does feel a bit overlong-tighter editing could have made it flawless-but the overall experience is exhilarating. A post-credits scene hints at a sequel, and if one comes, I'll be eager to watch. Ultimately, the film's success rests on Larry Yang's skill as both writer and director.

On the evening of August 11, the film Dead To Rights held its grand premiere at AMC Atlantic Times Square in Monterey Park, Los Angeles. Acting Chinese Consul General in Los Angeles Huang Hongjiang, Deputy Consul General Li Zhiqiang, and Cultural Counselor Wang Taiyu attended, along with nearly 200 Hollywood filmmakers, veteran critics, and media professionals.

The Only Chinese Expert Viewing Group in the U. S. What made this event particularly special was the participation of the only and largest Chinese expert viewing group in the United States, organized in Los Angeles. The group actively coordinated with the film's distributor to invite nearly 60 active Hollywood film professionals, prominent critics, and well-known bloggers to attend the screening. They later posted professional reviews on major social media platforms, helping audiences gain a deeper understanding of the film's historical details and artistic expression. Popular Chinese social media influencer "Jiao Jiao," who has nearly 50 million followers, was also invited. Having just returned to the U. S. from China, he gladly accepted the invitation, attending in person and leading his team to fully document the premiere.

The Premiere Scene and Emotional Resonance The theater was packed, every pair of eyes fixed on the screen in search of a shared memory for both the Chinese nation and humanity. Deputy Consul General Huang Hongjiang choked up during his remarks before the screening, moving the entire audience. I walked into the theater with a heavy yet expectant heart, and a friend reminded me, "Don't forget to bring tissues." Sure enough, before the film even ended, tears had welled up in my eyes multiple times.

Background and Core Narrative Dead To Rights is set against the backdrop of the 1937 Nanjing Massacre, telling the story-through the perspective of an ordinary photo studio-of how a group of citizens used images to preserve the truth and resist forgetting in the midst of extreme violence. The main storyline follows studio owner Jin Chengzong (played by Wang Xiao) and young postman Su Liuchang (played by Liu Haoran), two small-town figures thrust by the tides of history to its sharpest edge. They record atrocities with their cameras, defend the truth with their convictions, and undergo spiritual transformation amid fear and pain.

The film opens with walls adorned with happy everyday photographs-newlyweds' shy smiles, children's innocent laughter, and warm family portraits-symbolizing the beauty of peaceful times. But when the invaders' iron heels crushed the city, the meaning of these images was upended: the click of the shutter intertwined with the sound of gunfire, photos became evidence of atrocities, and the Japanese army even fabricated so-called "friendship photos" to whitewash their crimes.

A Choice Between Surrender and Preservation The turning point comes in the darkroom of "Auspicious Photo Studio." Confronted with the Japanese demand for the negatives, the staff face the choice between surrendering them or preserving them. Ultimately, unarmed, they risk their lives to pass along those images that record the truth. The frozen frames of massacres, corpse burnings, and executions are not only irrefutable evidence but also monuments of history-in this battle against forgetting, the negatives became weapons, and the shutter became witness.

Directorial Vision and Artistic Expression Director Shen Ao adopts a powerfully realistic style, confronting massacres and atrocities head-on, using suffocating visuals to recreate historical scenes. Japanese actor Daichi Harashima, portraying a military photographer, juxtaposes the "calm plunderer" with a "civilized facade" to chilling effect. The film's most notable innovation lies in its shift of perspective: allowing Chinese people themselves to press the shutter, reclaiming a sense of national dignity.

Ending and Emotional Crescendo In the film's closing moments, Lin Yuxiu escapes Nanjing with Jin Chengzong's son and takes a photograph of a war criminal's execution outside the city-both a cry for justice for the 300,000 victims and a message to future generations that some were willing to risk everything for the truth. Accompanied by Zhou Xuan's 1940 song Eternal Smile, the audience sees light after darkness, and flowers amid ruins.

The Overlap of Past and Present The credits feature a poignant montage, blending images of Nanjing's wartime ruins with scenes of today's bustling city and clear blue skies. Those negatives once protected at the risk of life are now akin to the everyday snapshots we casually take on our phones, delivering a silent yet profound shock through the crossing of time. One audience member remarked, "A true anti-Japanese war film is not just about hatred-it's about awakening memory and safeguarding truth."

From China to the World After earning both critical acclaim and box office success in mainland China, Dead To Rights will open in theaters across the U. S. and Canada starting August 15 and is slated to launch on major streaming platforms later this year. This is not only an experiment in bringing Chinese cinema to global audiences but also a worldwide dialogue on humanity, justice, and memory.

As Ambassador Xie Feng has said, the memories of "blood and fire" exist to safeguard "the light before our eyes." A film is entertainment, but it can also be a vessel of memory. Dead To Rights, anchored in truth and sharpened by emotion, not only revives history but also rekindles our sense of responsibility.