Chinese TV Dramas Are Shockingly Long. Here’s Why

Chances are, if you ask young Chinese people how they consume domestic TV programs, they will tell you they watch them on fast-forward whenever possible. It’s a common practice born of the sheer lengthiness of Chinese dramas.


The five most popular Chinese dramas of 2022 are all a single season (many Chinese TV dramas are just one season in length). The shortest series, Thousand Years for You, is about 24 hours long, while the longest one, A Lifelong Journey, clocks in at 43.5 hours.


However, A Lifelong Journey is still overshadowed by the hit Chinese drama Empresses in the Palace, released in 2011, which boasts 76 episodes of 45 minutes each.

Meanwhile, as of 2017, the average American TV show had 13 episodes a season, each as short as half an hour. A three- or four-season show would only begin to compete with the length of most one-season Chinese dramas.


Longer is not always better, however, at least in the case of TV. Chinese netizens have taken to calling these shows ‘water-injected’ (注水, zhushui) due to the amount of filler content in them.


In 2020, due to viewers’ anger over bloated shows, China’s National Radio and Television Administration (NRTA), the industry’s main regulatory body, capped the length of new dramas to 40 episodes and encouraged producers to keep it under 30.


But that hasn’t really solved the problem — 40 episodes of 45 minutes each is still 30 hours. So what motivates producers to make Chinese dramas so long? We have some answers.

All ’Bout the Money

In China, networks and streaming services like iQiyi pay for programs on an episode-by-episode basis — meaning the longer a show is, the more money its producers can make. Plus, with more episodes, producers can also include more in-show product placement.


empresses in the palace

Empresses in the Palace was a hit when it came out in 2011. Image via IMDb


According to the Chinese media outlet The Paper, the cost of making a drama has also increased drastically over the years due to actors’ hefty salaries, which have exacerbated the problem.


The media report added: “[TV] stars’ salaries have increased by more than 5,000 times in the past 30 years, and the highest remuneration for a single drama has exceeded 100 million RMB (14.6 million USD) […] the film crew often chooses to create more episodes to reduce economic pressure.”


To lengthen shows, creators usually drag out the plot, leave in excess or repetitive dialogues, film scenes in slow motion, and develop elaborate but unnecessary storylines for supporting characters.

One show famous for its drawn-out storytelling is The Mystic Nine, a 48-episode single-season show from 2016. It was purportedly about a mysterious tomb, but the characters did not investigate the crypt until the 18th episode.

Viewing Habits

Chinese dramas’ lengthiness goes hand-in-hand with the format of their release. Many shows are broadcasted on TV and streamed online simultaneously, with two episodes coming out every night or week, like this year’s uber-popular The Knockout, which recently finished airing its 39 episodes on the TV channel CCTV-8 and streaming platform iQiyi.

This format is markedly different from HBO Max, which releases one episode of a new show every week, or Netflix, which releases an entire season at once.


It is true that some Chinese shows — primarily sitcoms — have multiple seasons. For example, the longest Chinese drama, Migrant Wives, Local Husbands, has 4,000-something episodes, and it’s still going.


why chinese dramas are so long, chinese tv habits, the longest chinese drama

Migrant Wives, Local Husbands has been running for more than 22 years. Image via YouTube


However, as mentioned earlier, most Chinese shows only have one season. That means producers must squeeze elaborate, often decades-long plots into just one chunk of TV. The Knockout, for example, takes place over more than 20 years.


Not only is the Chinese drama release format conducive to longer shows, but it also caters to viewers who love to binge-watch.

As anyone who has binged a show before knows, there’s something incredibly pleasurable in watching hours of a series without stopping. Chinese dramas are often eminently binge-able due to the sheer number of episodes available.

Web Novel Adaptations

Finally, because many Chinese dramas are adapted from books — or web novels — they have extensive source material to work from.


Two of the five most popular shows of last year — Love Between Fairy and Devil and The Heart of Genius — were adapted from web novels, and another, A Lifelong Journey, was adapted from a published book.

The most popular web novels in China often have as many as 3 million Chinese characters, equivalent to about 2 million English words. For reference, the entire Harry Potter series only adds up to a little over 1 million words.


As one author observed, web novel writers keep readers hooked by designing a small climax every three to five chapters and a big climax to round out one plotline in about 10 chapters.


Unsurprisingly, these massive word counts can also be traced back to money. Just like TV producers, the more they write, the more they can get paid. Usually, authors are paid 2 to 3 cents per 1,000 Chinese characters (excluding the free trial period for readers and the platform’s cut), multiplied by their number of subscribers. It’s the perfect formula for fostering long, feel-good stories, which have been adapted into TV dramas with increasing regularity.


Adapted from web novels or not, Chinese dramas often use the same tactics and techniques to lengthen the story and keep the operation afloat.


the bad kids

The Bad Kids follows three children who accidentally film a murder scene. Image via IMDb


In recent years, though, we have seen successful miniseries such as the 12-episode thriller The Bad Kids and the 15-episode time-loop suspense Reset. The only question is whether short dramas survive in an industry saturated with long-form content.


Cover image via IMDb

China Has Mixed Feelings About 95th Academy Awards’ Big Winner

On March 12, the science fiction dramedy Everything Everywhere All At Once (EEAAO) won seven of the 24 categories — including Best Picture — at the 95th Academy Awards (commonly known as the Oscars).


Given the film’s majority-Asian cast, it was a historic win for representation in Hollywood.

EEAAO star Michelle Yeoh also took home the Oscar for Best Actress, making her the first Asian woman to do so. Yeoh is a veteran of the film industry; she began acting in Hong Kong in the late 1980s and made a name for herself in films like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000), Memoirs of a Geisha (2005), and Crazy Rich Asians (2018).


However, despite Chinese netizens’ love for Yeoh — who plays Evelyn, an immigrant laundromat owner being audited by the IRS, many do not believe that the film lives up to the hype.

On the Chinese microblogging site Weibo, one person commented, “I don’t mean that Everything Everywhere All At Once is bad, but I simply don’t think it has reached the level of Best Picture at the Academy Awards.”


The film follows Evelyn’s fraught relationship with her queer daughter (played by Stephanie Hsu) throughout the multiverse. It is absurdist and genre-bending; it deals with everything from nihilism and existentialism to buttplugs and bagels.


It resonated deeply with Asian American audiences, who appreciated its heartfelt rendering of the immigrant experience.


everything everywhere all at once, oscars 2023, michelle yeoh oscars

The cast of Everything Everywhere All At Once receiving the Oscar for Best Picture. Image via VCG


Though EEAAO was never officially released in China, that hasn’t stopped more than 459,000 people from leaving reviews of the film on Douban, the Chinese version of IMDb. There, it has an aggregated rating of 7.6/10, which is not bad, but — according to many netizens — not quite good enough to merit the honor of being crowned Best Picture.

Too ‘Politically Correct’?

A common point of criticism among those who dislike the film is its so-called ‘political correctness,’ which is referred to online as ‘zzzq,’ an acronym for the Chinese word for the term (政治正确, zhengzhi zhengque).


undefined

Stephanie Hsu as Joy, Michelle Yeoh as Evelyn, and Ke Huy Quan as Waymond in Everything Everywhere All At Once. Image via IMDb


One person wrote, “I didn’t understand it […] It was a work with very confusing expressions […] It wanted to touch upon so many different aspects but failed to go into details in any direction. No point is highlighted, and there is no clear theme. There are even zzzqs that deliberately cater to American aesthetics. Maybe Americans like this kind of film, but personally, I really can’t appreciate it. Congratulations to Michelle Yeoh and the film, but I don’t like it.”


However, no one is forthcoming about what makes the film so politically correct. Although we assume it could refer to one or all of the following: the Asian cast, the female protagonists, or the lesbian daughter.

A Mixed Bag, Otherwise

Of course, many in China love the film. In response to the detractors, one netizen wrote, “Everything Everywhere All At Once is an excellent film that combines entertainment and artistry […] Of course, the sweep is related to the downturn in the film industry over the past two years, but even if there were other better films, [EEAAO] would still be a strong contender for Best Picture.”


Another praised its “perfect use of abstract and scattered cultural symbols” and the way it used science fiction to discuss “the dilemma of middle age, self-reconciliation, and cultural conflicts.” Although the commenter also said the Raccacoonie scenes were “too abstract.”


michelle yeoh's evelyn with hot dog fingers in everything everywhere all at once

Michelle Yeoh’s Evelyn in one of the multiverses. Image via IMDb


This latter opinion represents another reaction to the film among Chinese audiences: bewilderment. The same qualities that catapulted EEAAO to Best Picture — its absurdity and originality — made some Chinese viewers consider it not quite Oscar-worthy.


This discrepancy between the opinions of Chinese American and Chinese audiences may have to do with a disconnect in their lived experiences and their personal recognition of the film’s characters.


Finally, some netizens used the triumph of EEAAO to question why Chinese films don’t perform better at the prestigious Academy Awards. As one Chinese blogger wrote, “When will we be able to see works and actors from the Chinese mainland win [at the Oscars]?”


Cover image via VCG

China’s Urban Consumers Are Hyped About Plant-based Meat

A group of researchers at Peking University’s School of Advanced Agricultural Sciences surveyed Chinese urban consumers and found that they hold overwhelmingly positive views towards plant-based meat.


Of the 579 respondents — all residents of Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen, or Chongqing — 85% had already eaten plant-based meat, largely out of an interest in healthy food or a desire to try new things. Further, 99.8% reported that they were willing to buy meat alternatives made in China.

This positive response to meat alternatives is good news for the Chinese government, which announced in 2016 that it planned to cut the country’s meat intake in half by 2030 as part of an effort to reduce carbon emissions.


The results of the Peking University study are not all that surprising, however. According to Daxue Consulting, China makes up 53% of the world’s meat substitution industry, which includes plant-based meat, even though fewer than 5% of people are vegan or vegetarian.


This phenomenon may be apparent to anyone who has stepped foot into a Starbucks, KFC, Burger King, McDonald’s, or even a Lawson convenience store in China in the past few years, all of which serve plant-based meat alternatives.


mcdonald's plant based meat burger

McDonald’s plant-based meat burger set. Image via Xiaohongshu


The popularity of imitation meat can be primarily attributed to Chinese consumers’ interest in healthy living. As of 2020, organic food consumption in the country had grown by 125% since 2015; China’s health supplement industry, meanwhile, has become the world’s second-largest.


The Daxue Consulting article mentioned above explains: “Chinese people believe sustainable food is healthy… ‘Flexitarian’ is a preferred concept to describe Chinese people’s diets, which are not fully committed to either veganism or vegetarianism but are willing to reduce their meat consumption due to cultural factors and health concerns.”

It’s also important to note that faux meat has a centuries-long history in China. In the 10th century, hundreds of years after vegetarianism was officially adopted by Buddhists, meat alternatives such as smoked bean curd were created to cater to monastery visitors and others who were transitioning to vegetarianism.


International plant-based meat companies have worked to adapt their products for the Chinese market. Beyond Meat, for example, has created vegan takes on traditional Chinese dishes and partnered with domestic fast-food chain Dicos to promote their meat alternatives.


a dicos and beyond meat collaboration food truck

A Dicos and Beyond Meat food truck collaboration. Image via Xiaohongshu


However, because the Peking University study only focused on urban consumers, it remains to be seen whether the rest of China will get on board with the plant-based meat craze.


Cover image via Beyond Meat

Creatives in China Are Pissed About Lofter’s A.I. Art Generator

If you’re a frequent user of art-sharing sites such as ArtStation and DeviantArt, you probably have seen the image of a dark red prohibition sign that reads “No To A.I. Generated Images.”


Lofter, A.I. art China, NetEase

Content creators have shared the above image on art-sharing sites to protest the copyright violations brought by A.I.-generated art. Image via Weibo


As A.I. art generation sites like Midjourney and Stable Diffusion became more easily accessible and prevalent in the past year, artists in Western countries have been raising concerns about technology stealing their original work.


In December of last year, online protests broke out on ArtStation, where artists flooded the site’s homepage with the above prohibition image, urging platforms to take more responsibility for protecting the creative field.


Similar protests have also reached the Chinese internet as concerns about A.I.-generated content continue to grow online.


Last September, the A.I. program ERNIE, developed by China’s leading search engine Baidu, had artists cautioning about the technology’s potentially negative impact on innovation and creativity. The tension reached a boiling point when artists on Lofter, a Tumblr-like platform developed by Chinese internet technology company NetEase, protested the platform’s launch of a new built-in A.I. art generator on March 7.


baidu, A.I. art in China

An image generated by Baidu’s ERNIE


Lofter first started in 2011 as a community for photographers and soon gained popularity among writers and illustrators for supporting original content. Artists have relied on the platform to showcase their work and build networks within the creative community.


Many users saw the launch of Lofter’s A.I. generator as a blunt betrayal of what the platform used to stand for, and many have voiced their intent to leave the platform.


The “No To A.I. Generated Images” poster quickly dominated the A.I. drawing section on Lofter. A related hashtag also started trending on Weibo, China’s top microblogging site, amassing around 90 million views in less than six hours.


Lofter, A.I. art China, NetEase

Screengrabs of artists protesting Lofter’s A.I. function. Image via Weibo


Lofter quickly put out a statement saying the A.I. art generator it launched is only used for producing profile images for users, as they found that many of their users frequently change profile photos.


Lofter also claims it only created the generator to encourage more free expression and had no intention of profiting from it. The platform stressed that all training data came from open-source databases.


According to the statement, if users find that the generator has copied their work, the platform will compensate the original creator 10,000 RMB (1,440 USD) per piece.


The platform also promises to launch an anti-crawling function that will prevent A.I. from ripping-off original content and plans to issue stricter regulations to help differentiate A.I. works from original content.


open ai, ai art

An image generated on DALL-E, an A.I. art platform developed by OpenAI


However, many Lofter users and content creators are unsatisfied with the response, claiming that Lofter doesn’t understand or respect its core audience.


“A.I.-generated works are getting more views than those created by hardworking illustrators on the platform. What a joke,” wrote one Weibo user.


Users have demanded that the platform take down the A.I. function, but Lofter has yet to show any intention of complying.


This is not the first time Lofter has come under fire over A.I. Similar complaints about copyright violations also arose when the platform launched an A.I. writing function in 2021.


DALL-E, open ai

An image generated by DALL-E


The advancement of A.I. has become a concern within the global creative field, with real legal battles going on. The most prominent case recently was Getty Images suing Stable Diffusion over copyright infringement.


Countries around the world have been struggling to come up with their own ways to deal with the complications that have arisen with the proliferation of A.I. platforms.


China banned any A.I.-generated work without a clear watermark in January 2023. While in the U.S., the Biden administration released a non-binding ‘A.I. Bill of Rights’ in an attempt to create a safe and effective system.


The discussion on how we should approach and regulate A.I. will continue as we enter uncharted territory with its advancement.


Cover image via VCG

‘Village Supermodel’ Lu Xianren Makes Paris Fashion Week Debut

China’s “wild countryside model,” 24-year-old Lu Kaigang, better known by his stage name Lu Xianren, has strutted from a rural Guangxi village in South China to the world’s most prominent style stage: Paris Fashion Week.


On March 6, Lu made his Paris debut walking for Taiwanese luxury fashion house Shiatzy Chen’s Fall/Winter 2023 collection. He modeled an androgynous, cropped black jacket and white silk trousers.

Shiatzy Chen is known for its sophisticated mix of Eastern and Western styles and techniques. Michelle Yeoh, the Oscar-nominated Everything Everywhere All At Once actress, is a noted fan of the brand, and she even posed with Lu after the show.

Lu’s first professional modeling gig was at China Fashion Week in September 2019. Since then, he has also walked at London Fashion Week and Milan Fashion Week.


His burgeoning career in high fashion is a result of his viral modeling skills. In 2018, he began showing off his DIY couture creations on Chinese short video platforms. Each look was made from cheap household materials, including tarps, duct tape, garbage bags, and bamboo sticks.

The video that truly put him on the map, though, was a clip in which he modeled an old red blanket borrowed from his grandmother. It soon got millions of views and made him a household name.


@outdoorfishing01 Now I’m going to do something new#Fashionfalent #Funnytalent ♬ original sound – Lu Xianren


The model’s unique story and creative vision have endeared him to many Chinese netizens, and today he has more than 11 million followers on Douyin, China’s version of TikTok.


village supermodel lu xianren modeling a tarp

Image via Douyin


One person wrote on Weibo, “From the country road to the international stage, Lu Xianren has been working hard.”


Another commented, “I like him so much! He is luxurious and charming on stage, handsome and bright [on social media], and filial, warm, and down-to-earth in his hometown. Whether it is garbage bags or high-end couture, he has the elegance of a prince.”

Prior to his fame, Lu worked as a waiter and factory worker. But he soon quit the gigs and returned to his hometown to make his fashion dream come true.


Though Lu has no professional modeling training, he has long dreamed of being a supermodel. In 2020, he told Kuaishou Technology — the company behind one of China’s viral short video platforms — that he had wanted to model since primary school and has practiced his walk every day since then.


At only 24 years old, Lu likely has a long future ahead of him in high fashion.


Cover image via @mr.luxianren/Instagram

Jay Chou-esque Song ‘The Dark Plum Sauce’ Takes China’s TikTok by Storm

If you’re active on China’s version of TikTok, Douyin, chances are your feed is dominated by Chinese singer-songwriter Li Ronghao’s latest track ‘The Dark Plum Sauce’ (‘乌梅子酱’), a now-viral love song that some say has strong Jay Chou vibes.


Although Li may not be a household name in the Western world, he has achieved great success in the Greater China Mandopop scene. He won the Golden Melody Award for Best New Singer in 2013 and was ranked 59th on the Forbes China Celebrity 100 List for 2020.

‘The Dark Plum Sauce’ is not technically a new song — Li first released it in November 2022 and included it on his latest 10-track album, Free Soul, in December.



However, the song didn’t go viral until recently, when several Douyin influencers and celebrities, including Korean-American singer Jessica Jung, a former member of the K-pop group Girls’ Generation, covered the original and turned it into an earworm.

A Viral Hit on TikTok

The spike of interest in ‘The Dark Plum Sauce’ on social media has resulted in videos dubbed or tagged with the song amassing well over 3 billion views on Douyin.

The song’s popularity has also led to a surge in interest in the actual dark plum sauce, with searches for the condiment on Taobao increasing by 200 times. (For those unfamiliar with dark plum, also known as smoked plum, it is dried Asian plums commonly used in East Asian cuisines and medicine. With a tart and tangy flavor, it’s usually used to make drinks and dipping sauces for roasted or fried meats, as well as a marinade ingredient in stir-fry dishes.)

Chinese music critic Ding Taisheng is also credited for the newfound virality of ‘The Dark Plum Sauce.’ Ding is known for his sharp critiques of many high-profile artists, including Vincent Fang, Jay Chou’s longtime collaborator, and Chinese rap queen Vava.


On February 20, Ding posted a video on the Chinese video-streaming site Bilibili slamming Li’s original version of the track, calling it “tacky,” “cheesy,” and only “catering to youth from the countryside.”


li ronghao, li ronghao songs, The Dark Plum Sauce

Li Ronghao. Image via Depositphotos


Ding’s critique quickly began trending on the Chinese microblogging platform Weibo, with a related hashtag garnering 470 million views.


Many netizens agreed with his opinion and criticized Li for being “utilitarian” and only seeking to churn out more hits. Meanwhile, some defended Li and accused Ding of using the song’s meteoric popularity to boost his brand.

A Jay Chou Copycat?

Some have also suggested that ‘The Dark Plum Sauce’ resembles the 2005 hit ‘Romantic Cellphone’ by Mandopop king Jay Chou and questioned if Li had plagiarized the song.

Professional musicians have clarified that the two songs sound similar to general audiences because they both use a classic chord and the same rhythm, although they are still different enough. Many have capitalized on the tracks’ perceived similarities by remixing the two and sharing the results online.


Regardless of the controversy, ‘The Dark Plum Sauce’ continues to dominate China’s version of TikTok and has cemented itself as a fixture of the current Mandopop scene.


Cover image a screengrab from Li Ronghao’s ‘The Dark Plum Sauce’ music video, via YouTube