Chinese Netizens Sneer at Presale Ticket Prices for ‘Avatar’ Sequel

Presale tickets for Avatar: The Way of Water, which will officially open in Chinese cinemas on December 16, have been available in China since December 6. The film, created by visionary filmmaker James Cameron, is the highly-anticipated sequel to Avatar (2009).


China is easing up on its strict Covid-19 policies, and many content-hungry film enthusiasts have jumped at the opportunity to see the blockbuster in cinemas.


Ticket presales for Avatar: The Way of Water surpassed 13.9 million RMB (about 2 million USD) on the first day alone and reached 29 million RMB (around 4 million USD) at the time of writing.

However, many people are unimpressed with just how expensive tickets are, with entry to the Avatar sequel costing as much as 200 RMB (around 28 USD) per person at some cinemas.


On Weibo, China’s top microblogging site, a hashtag about the steep ticket prices for Avatar: The Way of Water has amassed 280 million views, with many netizens venting their disapproval.


“[The pricing] is unacceptable. Don’t justify the high price with excuses like ‘movie theaters are struggling during the pandemic.’ I also suffered over the past three years. If you want people back in the theater, price your tickets reasonably instead of trying to get the most money out of every customer,” wrote a Weibo user.


Avatar The Way of Water


According to the Chinese financial news platform Dahe Cube, movie tickets for the Avatar sequel are priced between 30-230 RMB (about 4-33 USD), depending on cities and theaters. Most 3D tickets are priced between 40-80 RMB (about 6-12 USD), while IMAX experiences sell at more premium prices.


All images via Disney

Producer Eddie Beatz on Why Chengdu Is China’s Hip Hop Capital

Into the Night is a series exploring China’s vibrant nightlife and music scene and the roster of young people that make parties in the country so damn fun. This story introduces Chengdu-based hip hop producer Eddie Beatz.


“The difference is that life is more relaxed here,” Chengdu hip hop producer Eddie Beatz tells us about the city. “When I go to Shenzhen, people talk about work, housing prices, and other financial things. In Chengdu, because it is so casual, you can really sit down and talk about music, talk about a record, or what you have been listening to lately. That’s an experience that friends in other cities rarely have.”


Beatz draws on his own experience to sum up the city in three words: freedom, rebelliousness, and wildness.


Lying at the center of China, in the vast province of Sichuan, Chengdu straddles somewhere between the shiny new metropolises of the eastern coast and the hinterlands in the far west of the country, a meeting point for China’s minority cultures.


map of chengdu sichuan


He tells us that Chengdu’s air of freedom and wildness is down to lower rent prices, more financial freedom, and a general lack of strictness concerning musical performances compared to other Chinese cities.


It is, then, the perfect city for someone like Beatz to make music stress-free.


His first musical effort was for a girl he liked when he was in the sixth grade. Looking back on how the object of his affection reacted to this song, he opines that she was probably just as embarrassed as he was because, “In those days, people thought rap was really stupid.”


This was before the explosion of popularity that rap and hip hop music have experienced in the past decade or so.


Chinese hip hop in Chengdu

People relaxing on the street in Chengdu, a Chinese city known for its chill vibes


Speaking about how he became enamored of rap music at such a young age, he tells us, “Because I sing out of tune, rap was more impactful for me. It felt more direct and suitable when I was a kid.”


His expectations for his music are relatively meager, as he tells us that his aim is simply to “be happy making music every day.”


On the other hand, his approach to making music has changed considerably through the years. When he began his musical career, he came up against the kind of difficulties that those working in the arts usually face.


“I had no job and no income, and people in my family were constantly asking me whether I could support myself with music,” he tells us. “At the same time, I wanted to buy lots of things that I couldn’t afford, and I wanted to eat a lot, like, for example, I would invite friends to go with me to these great restaurants, and then after looking at the menu, I wouldn’t know what to eat.”


One of Beatz’s more impactful encounters was when he met an unnamed Grammy-winning producer visiting Chengdu to hold a symposium. Through the meeting, Beatz learned that the decorated producer spent eight hours per day making music, considerably more than the two or three hours he spent producing tunes daily.


This insight had a significant impact on Beatz, who decided, as a result, to increase his own productivity. He began spending eight hours each day making music, and he began to feel that his work was becoming more rewarding, as he was making more music and feeling a stronger sense of accomplishment.


The scope of this work is changeable, as he can spend as much as six hours simply listening to music and two hours creating music.


hip hop artist eddie beatz

Eddie Beatz playing the piano


It’s a strategy that has borne fruit for him. In 2021, he collaborated with much-loved rappers J-Fever and Zhou Shijue (周士爵) on the excellent Xīn Yù Pínlǜ (心愈频率), which loosely translates to ‘Heart Rate.


Just this year, he released Yěshì Lán (也是蓝 or Also Blue). The jazzy, experimental release draws on Beatz’s vast abilities and interests and brings together some phenomenal collaborators, such as Higher Brothers’ Masiwei, Shanghai singer-songwriter Voision Xi, Xi’an rap legend Pact, and regular collaborators Zhou Shijue and J-Fever.


The name of the record seems to recall the melancholic and romantic vibe of a record like Kind of Blue by Miles Davis, but Beatz refutes this, saying that the color blue here can “be a taste, a color, or something that looks good.”


He goes further and tells us that the name has a somewhat comical meaning, “Because my Mandarin is not standard, sometimes my friends can’t tell the difference in what I say between 蓝 (blue) and 难 (difficult), and they joke with me about this. While making this record, I felt that life was too difficult.”


The diversity of styles at play on Yěshì Lán reflects the collaborations that Eddie Beatz has been a part of throughout his career.



As a Chengdu resident, he witnessed the phenomenal rise of trap music in the city. He speaks to the incredible popularity of the Chinese hip hop variety show The Rap of China and how much influence that had on the city’s music scene and his own career.


“Maybe six, seven or eight years ago, everyone would sit around together thinking of a way to find a job. When the show came out, everyone changed from wearing flip-flops to buying countless pairs of shoes,” he says.


“Before that, buying a house or a car was unthinkable, and now rappers have a lot of cars and houses. From my point of view, I feel like I’m dreaming, because yesterday, everyone was sitting together drinking a Sprite, and now many of them are in the elite class.”


Eddie Beatz Chengdu hip hop

Eddie Beatz


With that being said, Beatz remains a lowkey figure, someone who is driven to create alongside experimental rappers and musicians like J-Fever and Voision Xi. Take a look at his Netease Music page (a Chinese equivalent to Spotify), and you’ll also find a range of remixes and piano-based releases.


“I have participated in freestyle activities, but I feel that I am a relatively introverted person. After I finish performances, I think back on it and feel stupid and won’t want to perform anymore. For me, making music behind the scenes is the best.”


“I feel like my releases don’t need to be talked about; the music that I release is representative of my wish to show people that music is beautiful.”


Cover image designed by Haedi Yue; other images from ‘Why This Chinese City Produces More Rappers Than Any Other,’ episode two of RADII’s mini-doc series ‘Into the Night’

‘Genshin Impact,’ Other Games Halt Service in China to Mourn Jiang Zemin

At 10 AM today, a state funeral was held in Beijing for former Chinese President Jiang Zemin, who died at 96 on November 30 in Shanghai. Multiple Chinese video games announced that they would halt operations in China for the day to pay respect to the departed leader.


According to a Chinese gaming publication, popular titles such as miHoYo’s Genshin Impact, Tencent’s League of Legends, Honor Of Kings, and Dungeon & Fighter, and NetEast’s Identity V and Onmyoji are participating in the pause of service.

Additionally, most apps and websites in China have turned black and white to memorialize Jiang, and trading on Chinese financial markets was paused for three minutes on Tuesday.


Universal Studios Beijing is also closed for the day.


Jiang was born on August 17, 1926, in the city of Yangzhou, about a three-hour drive from Shanghai. He presided over the country as president from 1993 to 2003.


His time at the helm was marked by several notable events in China’s recent history, including the Hong Kong handover in 1997, China’s entry into the World Trade Organization in 2001, and a decade of high-speed economic growth.


Jiang also met many influential global leaders during his tenure, including Bill Clinton and Queen Elizabeth II. The Queen died two months ago, also at the age of 96.


According to an official statement, Jiang died of leukemia and multiple organ failure. He was reportedly last seen in public at a 2019 military parade.


Cover image via Wikimedia Commons

Forget ‘Avatar,’ This Chinese Cinema Is a Hot Spot for Napping

As China’s cinemas have suffered from a shortage of new international films and rolling Covid-19 lockdowns, theaters across the country have sought alternative business models to stay afloat. Among the examples of creatively repurposed cinema spaces: A movie theater in Southwest China’s Chengdu has begun offering its premises as a place for tired folks to nap on their lunch break.


On November 21, Chengdu Rainer Stars Cinema launched its ‘lunch break service’ campaign. As shown in the poster below, from noon to 2 PM on workdays, customers can pay less than 3 USD to nap in the auditoriums.


Nappers can choose from two packages: one includes a warm eye mask and is priced at 12.9 RMB (1.86 USD), while the other comes with a mask and a hot drink for 18.9 RMB (2.72 USD).


china cinema nap time

Image via Weibo


“Many tech giants are located around us, and their workers are usually our main customers,” said the manager at Chengdu Rainer Stars Cinema in an interview with Southern People Weekly. “I noticed that many people came to rest on massage chairs at noon in our lobby, so I thought maybe we could offer nap services to make some money and also help people in need.”


The manager added that many other cinemas have followed suit, in addition to coming up with other creative money-making campaigns such as hosting World Cup screenings, stand-up comedy shows, or LARPing.


It has been a particularly tough year for Chinese box offices. At the beginning of November, the total box office revenue in the country for 2022 was 35% of the amount made by this time in 2021.


china cinema nap time

Photo by Felix Mooneeram on Unsplash


Multiple hashtags related to the Chengdu cinema have been trending on the Chinese microblogging platform Weibo, with millions of views in total. Many netizens have reacted with sarcastic comments.


“Today’s movies are so garbage and hypnotic, I bet people will sleep even better with movies on,” reads a witty remark.


Another opined, “I feel bad for the cinema, but also, it is sort of funny.”


A post-lunch power nap has been a long-standing tradition in China. Kids in school are required to take naps after lunch, while some young adults take up the habit again after joining the workforce (understandable, given the intense work culture prevalent in many Chinese workplaces).


Cover photo by Geoffrey Moffett on Unsplash

The Chinese Reggae Scene You Didn’t Know Existed

Into the Night is a series exploring China’s vibrant nightlife and music scene and the roster of young people that make parties in the country so damn fun. This story introduces the unexpected reggae scene that thrives in Southwest China’s Yunnan province.


This might come as a surprise to some, but China and reggae music have a strong connection. The Chinese-Jamaican community, which first settled in the Caribbean nation during the 19th century, significantly impacted the roots of reggae music. Some formative members of this Chinese-Jamaican community include Byron Lee, who first introduced electronic bass to reggae music, and ‘mother of reggae’ Patricia Chin, who founded the seminal Randy’s Studio 17.


Lesser known, however, is the community of reggae musicians residing in China’s southwestern province of Yunnan, which borders Southeast Asian countries such as Myanmar, Laos, and Vietnam.


Reggae bands like Kawa and Shanren have achieved national fame for fusing local music elements with reggae and creating sounds that derive influence from Jamaican music while also honoring their cultural roots.


Yunnan reggae


“We have a similar skin tone, we live on the same latitude as Jamaica, our traditional rhythms are similar, and Wa villages look like the scenes you would see in a Jamaican slum,” says Lao Hei, the producer and guitarist of popular Yunnan reggae band Kawa, in an interview with RADII.


“Wa people live a simple life. They are free when it’s not farming season. They like singing and dancing. They drink moonshine during festivals and holidays, and they love to dance their traditional dances.”


The Wa people are one of 56 ethnic minorities recognized by the Chinese government. The ethnic minority group is scattered mainly throughout Southeast Asia, especially Myanmar, and China’s Yunnan province.


“There’s an identification with reggae. It comes with a kind of national pride of the Wa. It’s being expressed through reggae as an identity. It’s a big way of expressing what it is to be Wa,” Sam Debbel, founder of the music label Sea of Woods, tells us.


“Ethnic minority groups that grow up dancing, they have a better sense of rhythm, because if you separate dance from music, it’s gonna be a problem. The Wa rhythm that they have is a binary kind of swing. You can see how they would naturally take to it; that’s why they make good reggae musicians because the rhythm is very natural.”


Reggae in China


Of course, Wa people are not the only ones engaging with reggae music. Yunnan is one of China’s most diverse provinces, home to 25 of China’s ethnic minority groups.


Puman, another popular reggae band in Yunnan, put out a track titled, ‘Bulang Beauty’ as an ode to the Bulang or Blang people. Tan Gaosheng, the band’s lead vocalist and guitarist who is Bulang, tells us, “You can include different elements from different ethnic minorities like Wa or Bulang or De’ang, Naxi, Dai or Yi people — all of their cultural elements can be made into reggae.”


“Bulang folk music and reggae are a good fit. When I was young, there was a waterwheel by the river, and there was a device that husked rice under the waterwheel. If you put your feet on it, it would make a backbeat rhythm. Reggae also has a strong upbeat.”


Reggae music made its way to China in the same way that most international music did in the 1990s — via dakoudai (打口带), which loosely translates to ‘cut cassette tapes.’ The term denotes how tapes and CDs usually had chunks cut out before being sent to China as waste; vendors then sold them illegally on the black market.


dakoudai from reggae in Yunnan, China documentary


“The first time I bought a dakou tape was around the late 1980s or the early 1990s. I went to the record store, and I saw some tapes with cuts on them,” reggae guitarist Zi Rang tells us.


“I thought it was very strange and asked the shop owner what those were. The owner said those were dakou. I spent about 15 RMB; it was very expensive for me as an elementary student. This was the first dakou that I bought,” adds Zi while showing us a picture of Grand Daddy I.U., a rapper during the Golden Age of Hip Hop in New York City.


The musicians RADII spoke with share one thing in common: a feeling of being drawn to reggae music despite not knowing what it was.


Tiger, a drummer and bassist with Kawa, says, “One day, I searched the internet for bands in Yunnan, and then Yunnan reggae popped up. I clicked it, and the first song was from Kawa called ‘Get Drunk’ (干酒醉). Wow, I was like, this is amazing, I’m gonna do this someday.”


Fu Xugang, a guitarist with Puman, tells us of his first encounter with reggae: “I went to my friend’s house, and he played a Bob Marley concert, but I didn’t know what reggae was. I just felt the music was relaxing. It sounded so good.”


Fu Xugang the guitarist with reggae group Puman


Zi Rang shares a similar sentiment when he says, “There used to be a lot of bars in Dali [a town in Yunnan province]. Even at that time, people played Bob Marley and put up his photos in the bar, but we didn’t know who Bob Marley was. I didn’t know it was reggae either, but I loved it. Ever since then, I’ve liked reggae.”


Fu Xugang sums it up nicely when he says, “We all live on the same planet. We are different people, but the earth is our root, so it doesn’t matter where you live, whether it is as part of rasta culture or as a minority in Yunnan, we are all the same.”


All images from ‘The Chinese Reggae Scene You Didn’t Know Existed,’ episode one of RADII’s mini-doc series ‘Into the Night’

International Students Return to China Despite Stagnant Job Market

Graduation is always an exciting time. Receiving your cap and gown, attending the commencement ceremony, and seeing your loved ones clapping and cheering for you as you receive your degree on stage are things that you’ll remember for life.


However, graduating can also come with a lot of anxiety. It marks the start of many young people’s job searches, which can be stressful and tiresome, especially for international students. The burning question for many of them is: should I stay here or return home?


A recent report released by LinkedIn China has revealed that most Chinese international students prefer to find jobs overseas since they’re less familiar with China’s hiring processes. They’re also concerned about lower salaries in their home country and not fitting in with overtime or 996 work culture.


However, this willingness to remain abroad after graduation varies by country. Chinese students in Canada and the U.S. are more willing to find a job and continue living in the country where they received their education compared to European countries such as England and France.


However, the data also shows that more international students have been returning to China — a decision perhaps fueled by the Covid-19 pandemic. In 2021 alone, more than 1 million Chinese international students returned to their motherland — double 2018’s figures.


Most returnees have cited ‘family’ and ‘cultural issues’ as their reasons for coming back to China.


international student, Chinese international students, jobs

The past three years have seen an increase in the number of Chinese international students returning to China. Chart via LinkedIn China


Most youths who have returned to China have chosen to find jobs at foreign-owned companies or companies with foreign capital in tier-one cities such as Beijing and Shanghai. The majority of these fresh grads have entered the tech and finance sectors.


In recent years, the Chinese government has also been working on bringing home talent from overseas.


Many cities have been offering incentives to attract international students. For instance, Guangzhou, the largest city in southern China, now offers international students up to 100,000 RMB (around 14,130 USD) in housing subsidies. Hangzhou, on the other hand, offers international students who want to start their own businesses up to 5 million RMB (about 706,544 USD) with stipulations.


Cover image via Depositphotos