5 posts tagged with "Animated Film"

“People crave new stories, yet they also feel uneasy when traditions are subverted, authority dissolved, and order changed. The contest over the right to interpret characters and stories is an extension of the contest over one’s own power.”

The Eight Immortals!, the animated film released this summer, fought its way through a crowd of blockbusters. After several rounds of fierce competition, its box office kept climbing, surpassing 2 billion yuan in total, and it may well take this year’s animated box office crown.

On China’s all-time animation box office chart, The Eight Immortals! has surpassed Boonie Bears: Time Twist to enter the top three. At this point, the top three spots on China’s animation box office chart are all occupied bymythological retellings, a testament to the enormous market potential of this genre.

Yet from the moment the film premiered, two opposing voices raised their doubts at the same time: “Another mythological story again? Can’t we get something original for once?”

“Another mangled adaptation of tradition? Why not just film the original faithfully?”

Looking back at the mythological retelling animations released in recent years, it seems every one of them cannot escape similar scrutiny.

On one side is audiences’ criticism of mythological retelling animations; on the other, these films keep achieving box office success. Behind this contradictory phenomenon, what audience psychology and market logic are at work? Have our mythological retelling animations really become too many?

01 The Great Sage Returned, and Then Stayed​

When did mythological retellings become the top draw among domestic animated films?

We have to go back to the summer of 2015.

Eleven years ago, in that summer season, Monkey King: Hero Is Back burst onto the scene. The film follows an original adventure centered on Sun Wukong, who has lost his powers, and Jiangliuer, the past life of Tang Sanzang. Apart from the stylized opening animation that recreates the classic “Havoc in Heaven — imprisoned under Five Finger Mountain” sequence, the rest of the plot has nothing to do with Journey to the West — even the big boss Hundun was grabbed from the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

The film’s Sun Wukong looked completely different from before: a long face, dispirited and down on his luck, all his powers gone — less like the Handsome Monkey King and more like a defeated middle-aged man. Only at the end does Sun Wukong regain his powers and don his golden armor again. As the familiar music rises, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven is reborn from adversity and shatters the boss with a single strike, and the story ends to rousing, exhilarating effect.

The film earned a staggering 900 million yuan at the time, sparking the first large-scale “organic fan” phenomenon in Chinese film history. It made audiences and the market realize for the first time that beyond the children’s market, Chinese animated films could use universally known traditional myths to open up a vast all-ages market.

In 2019, another milestone arrived: Ne Zha.

Its reworking of the myth was even more radical than Monkey King: Hero Is Back: blurring the backdrop of the Investiture of the Gods war, overturning Ne Zha’s original identity as the reincarnation of the Spirit Pearl — and in a sense, you could call it a work built entirely on “rebellion.”

Like Monkey King: Hero Is Back, Ne Zha went through word-of-mouth fermentation, the organic-fan effect, and a box office comeback. It not only shattered the domestic animation box office record in one stroke, it even climbed to second place on China’s all-time film box office chart. In the 2025 Spring Festival season, the sequel Ne Zha 2 went straight into the global top 5 at the box office, triggering a long-resonating nationwide celebration.

Over these eleven years, mythological retelling animation gradually became the signature of domestic animated film. The White Snake series, the New Gods series, Jiang Ziya, The Fall of the Mortal World, Nobody in Langlang Mountain, The Eight Immortals! and other mythology-themed animated films were released in turn, reinterpreting characters and stories everyone knows by heart, greatly expanding the imaginative boundaries of myth and legend, and driving the formation of a mature commercial market for domestic animated films.

02 Why Do the Big Hits Keep Being Mythological Retellings?​

Looking across the successful mythological retelling animations of these eleven years, some common traits emerge.

First, the protagonists are all figures the public knows well, doing the work of instant familiarity.

As derivatives of traditional mythology, their story backgrounds may not be deeply familiar to audiences, but at least they won’t be too alien.

As soon as a character appears, viewers can instantly locate the archetype through the character anchor and automatically fill in the background — she is a fairy, he is a god, their boss is the Jade Emperor or a Celestial Venerable, heaven’s rules are strict but the mortal world has true feeling — this kind of off-screen common knowledge lets the film present more content within its limited runtime, sparing the creators a great deal of exposition.

Meanwhile, a new script that is nearly original (even subversive) and a brand-new character design give audiences plenty of freshness. The character anchor can be used to locate a character — or used in reverse, deliberately defying expectations to achieve a surprising twist.

The rich body of traditional mythology offers an inexhaustible material library; even the same character archetype may appear in completely different guises in different works, leaving room for free play in both creation and interpretation.

Among all of them, the character audiences love best is undoubtedly Sun Wukong. Not only does he raise his golden cudgel again and again in his own films, he frequently cameos in others, like a “mythology-animation endorser.” Though every year someone asks “why the monkey again,” every Sun Wukong appearance draws genuine cheers.

Familiar characters and stories give audiences a sense of security. In a period of economic downturn, social attitudes tend conservative and people grow anxious. In this era of eroding certainty, only the past — which has already happened — can be guaranteed; when reality fails to provide security, people retreat into the unchanging “tradition” to look for it.

As for individual characters, because the mythological archetype exists, audiences have already been “promised” that the hero will overcome difficulty, defeat the enemy, and return to a stable mythological order — so they can comfortably enjoy the bumps along the way.

Choosing mythological retelling as material doesn’t guarantee a box office windfall, but it does provide a floor of sorts — at least audiences roughly know what story they’re going to see. Innovation means risk, and risk has its price: “rather than take enormous risks for thankless effort, better to turn to the proven experience of the past for a familiar sense of security.”

And compared with historical themes, which are also traditional material retold, myths and legends carry less gravity and gloom and more miracle and fantasy, making for a lighter viewing experience and giving creators freer rein for imagination.

At the same time, the craving for new content has always existed; the old mythological narratives cannot satisfy the spiritual needs of the contemporary market, which is why straight retellings of traditional stories rarely succeed either.

Mythological retelling animations distill elements from a vast shared cultural memory and blend in new content that better speaks to contemporary people’s pain points, becoming their voice. That is why they display a distinct modernity. Contemporary narrative wrapped in a traditional shell also creates a pleasing illusion of “it has always been so since ancient times,” lending legitimacy to the new narrative.

Mythological retelling animations modernize everything from the theme down to the details, satisfying ordinary people’s longing to see themselves inside grand narratives.

In theme, “resistance” is the universal motif, matching the emotional needs for hype, catharsis, and reversals; in detail, modern memes are woven in, connecting the distant battles of the gods with the ordinary people in front of the screen, drawing knowing smiles.

Technologically, the increasingly mature film industry provides the guarantee that visual spectacles can actually land on screen. Whether it’s the heavenly ladder in Jiang Ziya, the clash of gods and demons in Ne Zha 2, or the Penglai fairyland of The Eight Immortals, those reality-surpassing, imaginatively extravagant sights are often impossible to capture with live-action filming.

Animation, free of location-building costs, the difficulty of blending with live footage, or actors’ safety, and with no need for complex designs and computation in pursuit of hyper-realism, is perfectly suited to the unique advantages of the medium. Thus mythological retelling is one of the few genres where animation enjoys a natural advantage over live-action film.

03 New Wine in Old Bottles — Pleasing No One?​

Success and failure spring from the same source. The strengths of mythological retelling animation are also what draw criticism.

The essence of the mythological retelling is “new wine in old bottles” — most people go to the cinema for that mouthful of new wine. But for audiences hungry for new content, that mouthful of new wine always seems a bit weak: grand and lively, yet unmoored.

Mythological retelling animations set among the ancient celestial beings are distanced from modern people by time itself. No matter how they search for angles of empathy with ordinary people, their protagonists are ultimately transcendent figures beyond the common run. The heroes briefly play the voice of the commoner, but in the end they must return to their own order — to the celestial ranks assigned centuries ago. After a rousing line or two about defying fate, gods return to being gods, demons to being demons, and the background mortals are left standing where they were, dazed.

From story setting to protagonist agency, mythological retelling animation lacks a perspective that writes about the present. Even when it shows concern for contemporary people, a safe layer of ancient-versus-modern separation stands in between. It hardly counts as “coasting on ancestors,” merely innovating cautiously within a sufficiently conservative range. Toward contemporary people’s real anguish it can only offer sympathy and comfort — it cannot truly feel it.

And the narrative ingredients of mythological retellings feel increasingly familiar with each viewing: denying fate, defying authority; sacrificing the self to save the world and the greater good; a vast upper-level conspiracy; the faceless masses in need of rescue; the recurring NPCs of my villainous master / comic-relief clown / dialect character / cute pet;……

Stories born from deconstruction, through deliberate or unwitting repetition and through the market’s filtering, form new formulas.

And for audiences hoping to see old stories restored with new technology, once they discover the story’s core has been wholly reworked, their scrutiny naturally turns stricter.

As noted above, innovation comes with risk — especially for divine figures passed down for generations over millennia. The more famous and beloved a reworked deity is, the harsher the scrutiny of the adaptation, and the work may even be branded with the broad accusation of disrespecting history and traditional culture. The thief version of the Eight Immortals and the villain version of the Old Immortal of the South Pole (Wuliang Tianzun) both drew condemnation from some viewers.

The essence of defending tradition is defending the order one is familiar with. People crave new stories, yet they also feel uneasy when traditions are subverted, authority dissolved, and order changed. The contest over the right to interpret characters and stories is an extension of the contest over one’s own power.

Though much of the so-called “tradition handed down by our ancestors” is itself a construct of the internet era, it is undeniable that mythological retelling animation, sinking into formula, has deconstructed tradition without yet building a new narrative order grounded in the present. It has discarded the outdated content of traditional myths ill-suited to current values, but has failed to give audiences a new sense of stability. Against a backdrop crowded with gods and buddhas, those deities have revealed a detestable face — so where are the mortals, no longer under divine protection, to place themselves?

04 “Respecting the Original” May Be a False Proposition​

Seen this way, it’s hardly surprising that mythological retellings draw two kinds of criticism.

Curiously, though, in every one of these debates, audiences on both sides — those wanting “myth” and those wanting “retelling” — drag out the original texts to duel, claiming the characterization they support has an older, more orthodox, more long-standing source that better fits modern values. “Not respecting the original” is an all-purpose accusation: whether you support adaptation or insist on restoration, you may be scolded with “you don’t understand the original — what you support isn’t the original at all.”

This is easy to understand: everyone’s taste differs, and there is no absolute standard for judging an adaptation good or bad. By comparison, “the original” seems like the only objective yardstick available for public discussion.

However, seeking so-called “respect for the original” in mythological retelling animation may itself be a false proposition.

Unlike historical subjects, myth and legend have no “absolute truth” like a meta-history. They undergo long evolution, converge from multiple origins into one stream, and present different faces in different times and regions.

Myth and legend also differ from classic literature like Dream of the Red Chamber: they are not the creation of one person or a few, but a collective creation completed by generations of literati and common folk over thousands of years.

Moreover, the tradition of mortals being deified after death and the legends of cultivators ascending to immortality made the interaction between the divine world and the human world even closer, and the evolution of myth even more varied. As a result, Chinese myths and legends often present a complex, many-sided, even self-contradictory chaos. Creative retellings built on this naturally have no single right answer.

Take the god Erlang, Yang Jian. Across various animations, this widely known deity has been given different facets, presenting utterly different images. Let’s pick a few classic examples.

In CCTV Animation’s Journey to the West and the film Monkey King: Hero Is Back, Erlang Shen sticks close to the Journey to the West original, appearing as the “Jade Emperor’s nephew,” a flash of a purely functional villain serving to set off Sun Wukong.

In The Legend of Nezha, Yang Jian’s image comes from the Investiture of the Gods, but his origins are simplified to “child attendant of Nüwa,” mainly presenting his upright, kind, warm companion-to-the-hero image to suit the young audience.

In the animated film Lotus Lantern, Yang Jian is arrogant, cold, and inhuman — the embodiment of authoritarian power and oppression. Following heaven’s rules, he presses the Third Holy Mother, who pursues human liberation, under a mountain, enslaves mortals out of selfish desire, and is ultimately defeated by the righteous Chenxiang. The animation never depicts how Yang Jian went from rebel to oppressor, glosses over his past, and molds him into a standard stock villain. (Though it is now fashionable to explain Yang Jian’s behavior as “throwing the match,” from both the writing and the era’s context, Lotus Lantern had no intention of portraying Yang Jian’s supposed tragedy or depth — it is the defiant Chenxiang who carries the film’s core idea)

Also a villain, also based on the legend of two generations — “Yang Jian and Chenxiang” — splitting the mountain to save a mother, The Eight Immortals!’s Yang Jian operates on logic entirely opposite to Lotus Lantern’s. After his transformation from “resister to oppressor,” Yang Jian turns again toward resistance, continuing the righteous motive of “saving his mother” yet adopting illegitimate means. This tug-of-war between good and evil and displaced identity makes the character fuller and more worth discussing. In a sense, this Yang Jian can be seen as Chenxiang’s dark if-line.

New Gods: Yang Jian is the only animation that links the Investiture of the Gods with splitting the mountain to save a mother. But rather than integrating the traditional mythological narrative, it overturns it entirely, explaining the vast story spanning a millennium and three generations — “Investiture of the Gods — Yang Jian’s mother imprisoned under Peach Mountain — Yang Jian splits the mountain to save her — the Third Holy Mother Yang Chan imprisoned under Peach Mountain — Chenxiang splits the mountain to save her” — as a conspiracy, casting Yang Jian as a tragedy-stricken good guy who was deceived.

Its innovative spirit and narrative ambition deserve recognition, but the work completely abandons building logic from within the traditional mythology, simplifying a complex multi-sided struggle into a black pot dumped on Yang Jian’s master Yuding Zhenren. As a result, the retelling lacks organic connection with the old myth and loses the possibility of extending further stories — somewhat a pity.

With so many versions of Yang Jian in animation, who exactly is “mangling” the original, and who is “respecting” it?

To answer that, we must first answer — what exactly is the “original” Yang Jian, the god Erlang?

The author has traced the evolution of the Erlang Shen cult since its birth. In terms of origins, Erlang Shen has at least three archetypes: Li Bing and his son of the Warring States period, Zhao Erlang of the Song dynasty, and Dujian, second son of the Buddhist Vaiśravaṇa. In terms of deeds, there are at least three independent legends — splitting the mountain to save a mother, Journey to the West, and the Investiture of the Gods — each with multiple versions.

For instance, the “splitting the mountain to save a mother” legend, the oldest and with the most versions: its prototype, “the goddess of Mount Hua secretly marries a scholar,” appears as early as the Tang dynasty; by the Song and Yuan, the plot of “Erlang Shen beating the mandarin ducks apart, Chenxiang splitting the mountain to save his mother” was added.

Erlang Shen’s own mother-rescue story emerged in the Ming dynasty: his mother, Yunhua, an attendant fairy of the Bull-Fighting Palace (not the Jade Emperor’s sister in the earliest version), secretly wed Yang Tianyou, was imprisoned under a mountain by Sun Wukong (yes, the Great Sage once played the villain too), and after rescuing his mother, Erlang Shen in turn pressed Sun Wukong under Mount Tai. Only in the Qing dynasty were the two generations’ mountain-splitting legends first linked together.

From the Yuan dynasty onward, the entanglement of Sun Wukong and Erlang Shen was never absent from stage texts. In most versions of either Erlang Shen’s or Chenxiang’s mountain-splitting legend, Sun Wukong plays the villain — either as the Heavenly Court’s lackey suppressing the Third Holy Mother / fairy Yunhua, or drunkenly letting slip the Third Holy Mother’s forbidden love. The Journey to the West story inherited the backdrop of Erlang Shen splitting the mountain to save his mother, his identity as the Jade Emperor’s nephew, and his grudge with Sun Wukong — only with black and white swapped: Sun Wukong raises the banner of defying Heaven while Erlang Shen becomes the voice of the ruling class.

Yang Jian of the Investiture of the Gods is an entirely separate storyline: he bears no Erlang Shen title, no mountain-splitting deed, and never crosses paths with Sun Wukong, who lives a thousand years later. Only because he shares with Yang Erlang the title “Pure Origin Marvelous Way True Sovereign” did folk belief, from the late Ming into the Qing, begin merging the two into one.

New versions of the Erlang Shen legend kept appearing even into the late Qing. In the late-Qing Biography of the Eight Immortals Attaining the Dao, Erlang Shen (the Jade Emperor’s nephew, no surname, no mountain-splitting) has not the Third Holy Mother but Lady Yuanzhen as his sister. The story motif is much the same, but it is He Xiangu who exposes Yuanzhen’s affair. Yuanzhen is then imprisoned under a mountain by Erlang Shen; the Eight Immortals craft a lotus lantern for her and help her son Wang Tai (a Chenxiang variant) battle Erlang Shen and rescue his mother.

Only in the Republican era does a version close to the modern image appear in texts. The Song of the Subtle Essence of the Dao’s Source records: “Wukong returns a second time to the Heavenly Palace; Laozi hurls down the Universe Circle. Yang Jian deploys the Howling Celestial Dog; the Jade Emperor and Guanyin watch intently.” The Yang Jian of the Investiture legend and Yang Erlang of Journey to the West merge completely, and through Journey to the West become linked with splitting the mountain to save his mother. Thus a “collective creation of gods” spanning thousands of years was finally complete.

As shown above, Erlang Shen’s name, origins, title, and deeds have constantly shifted. If contemporary viewers want to trace back an “orthodox, authoritative” original myth and judge retellings right or wrong by it, they easily fall into the predicament of every party claiming reason on their side and granny claiming reason on hers. Erlang Shen is thus; so are the other mythological figures.

Rather than debating whether a mythological retelling is “correct,” perhaps the more worthwhile question is — how far can mythological retelling animation go?

05 Stones from Other Hills: Fairy-Tale Retellings​

Modernizing classic texts to win both acclaim and commercial success — even to become powerful cultural products — is not an idea of recent years, nor unique to Chinese creators. Decades ago, Disney’s fairy-tale retelling animations had already mastered it.

Since the 1937 animated film Snow White, Disney’s fairy-tale and children’s literature animations established its standing in the animation world. But by the 1980s Disney hit a bottleneck, finances ran at a loss, and simply replicating the classics no longer convinced audiences.

In 1989, The Little Mermaid, adapted from Andersen’s fairy tale, was an instant hit that ended Disney’s decade-long financial slump. This now-classic animation was quite rebellious in its day:

It boldly overturned the latter half of the original tale, changing the tragic ending where the mermaid princess dissolves into sea foam into a grand happy-everyone团圆-style finale where the princess and the human prince join forces to defeat the sea witch, in line with market expectations. (Who doesn’t love a dumpling-wrapping happy ending — wrapping burgers works too)

The protagonist Ariel turned away from the frail, quiet, passive princess image, becoming more proactive and courageous, with traits of the modern woman. Correspondingly, human Prince Eric was no longer a background board: he gained a distinct personality and personal aspirations, and the unspeakable one-sided love of the original became a mutual rush of two young hearts.

Visually, Ariel’s head of red hair stood out strikingly against the deep blue underwater world. Before this, blonde was the mainstream image of the mermaid; of the three prior Disney princesses, only Snow White followed her original with black hair — the other two were blonde. When The Little Mermaid first released, toy manufacturers even feared no one would like a red-haired mermaid and made the Ariel dolls blonde. Today, that bold, unconventional red hair has become the classic mermaid image, influencing mermaid designs in many later works.

Similarly, the long-faced Sun Wukong of Monkey King: Hero Is Back and the smoky-eyed Ne Zha of Ne Zha also drew waves of mockery before release. But as the stories unfolded, audiences gradually accepted the new images — and these two images formed a new collective understanding of the mythological figures.

The legitimacy of a classic retelling lies not in 100% restoration, but in being logically self-consistent and internally coherent, and on that basis delivering novelty suited to the needs of the era, so that audiences can believe its narrative.

Whether Disney’s fairy-tale retellings or Chinese animation’s mythological retellings, their scripts all carry a degree of formula. But formula is not all bad — a formula can become a formula precisely because its narrative pattern has been thoroughly validated over thousands of years of human civilization and is beloved by the majority. It may be clichéd, but at least it’s efficient.

The virtue of formula is that it underwrites commercial creation; the vice is that it breeds path dependence — and in an age of ever-rising innovation risk, until a new narrative paradigm appears, following the old rules remains the mutual safety net tacitly agreed by market, creators, and audiences alike.

Some viewers harbor another, more hidden expectation of mythological retelling animation: that it will carry Chinese animation abroad.

Yet mythology-themed works oriented toward the domestic market lower the viewing threshold for Chinese audiences — and do the exact opposite for overseas ones. Unfamiliar cultural backgrounds and character settings assumed known without explanation may leave overseas viewers walking in bewildered and walking out bewildered, unable to absorb anywhere near the information a Chinese audience gets.

By contrast, American animated films are more often decontextualized, family-friendly, all-ages works aimed at a global audience, covering as many viewer groups as possible; Japanese animated films have a mature industrial system, their own specific cultural consumption context, and audiences already habituated to watching animation.

Chinese animated films, though occasionally dazzling, remain fragile as an industry, still dependent on idiosyncratic creators’ occasional flashes of inspiration and lacking stable output capability. At this stage, mythological retelling animation probably cannot yet shoulder such weighty hopes.

At present, the mythological retelling remains a creative magic weapon, a genre the masses love to see and hear. It injects new life into tradition, bringing ancient stories alive to travel toward a more distant future — over the past thousands of years, myth and legend have likewise kept absorbing the content of each new age, constantly renewing themselves, carrying the collective wishes of people across every historical period.

But the mythological retelling is no panacea: nearly every hot release season sees one open, yet only a handful of outstanding works leave an impression.

And audiences’ complaints about mythological retelling animations stem not from their truly overrunning the field, but from the scarcity of animated films of other genres, which forces a single work to shoulder a mission it cannot bear.

In this National Day season, The Eight Immortals!, nearly three months in release, remains the most-watched animated film — proof enough that the audience demand for mythological retelling stories, and for excellent domestic animation, is far from satisfied. Perhaps, rather than grandly debating the fate and meaning of any genre, we should pay more attention to specific works, and to audiences’ specific needs.

We look forward to more attempts at mythological retelling, and to more non-mythological animated films reaching the big screen — so that old legends and new stories together compose a richer panorama of Chinese animation.

This article is authorized for reprint from “KaoPu ErCiYuan”

The development of domestic animated films is unstoppable.

From Ne Zha: Birth of the Demon Child in 2019, to 30,000 Miles from Chang'an in 2023, to Langlang Shan Xiao Yao Guai in 2025, and this year's Ba Xian!, domestic animated films have repeatedly served as the box office主力 for the summer period over consecutive years, achieving both critical and commercial success and becoming a universally recognized cultural hotspot in the market.

The Spring Festival period is no exception. Ne Zha: The Sea of Devils shattered people's perception of the ceiling for Chinese film box office with its phenomenal domestic box office of 15.446 billion yuan, while the Boonie Bears franchise has firmly established itself as the gatekeeper for Spring Festival box office, becoming the top choice for family viewing. No one underestimates the cultural significance and immense commercial value that domestic animated films can unlock.

The overall market is growing, and the industry is thriving, but that doesn't necessarily mean every individual film will succeed.

The box office boom of top-tier works can easily create the illusion that “making animated films equals getting rich.” In reality, achieving a high box office for an animated film is still extremely difficult and requires the right timing, location, and people. Aside from a few animated films with special purposes, mid-range commercial animated films continue to face challenges in quality assessment, breaking out of their niche, and simply surviving.

Recently, Niu Lai unexpectedly went viral due to its internet novelty appeal, successfully boosting its box office. This stands in stark contrast to the numerous films that withdrew, delayed, or underperformed during the summer season, sparking polarized evaluations within and outside the industry. Although Niu Lai is just an isolated case and its luck is not replicable, the market's fervent reaction demonstrates the audience's aesthetic fatigue with mediocre mid-range works and their extremely high expectations and consumption potential for different, “dopamine-driven” films—a new way of thinking about viewing that differs from past consumption habits.

The survival rules for veteran players are changing, and the influx of new players is accelerating. Traditional film and television companies, video platforms, copyright holders, animation series production companies, and AI film and television companies are all trying to enter the scene. The story of domestic animated films on the big screen is being rewritten.

But where will the tide of domestic animated films ultimately flow? There are many variables at play, with both opportunities and risks. At this important juncture in 2026, we have decided to write this 2026 “Domestic Animated Film” Trend Report, hoping to use past data and unique insights to discuss the direction of domestic animated films in the next phase with industry professionals and those looking to enter the field.

The primary focus of this report is commercial animated films. Box office is a core criterion for evaluating the strength of a commercial film and serves as a comprehensive assessment of the capabilities of the production company, distributor, producer, marketing team, and fan base.

The data coverage for this report spans from January 2009 to August 16, 2026, encompassing domestic animated films that had a wide theatrical release in the mainland market and achieved a box office greater than 10 million yuan. Data sources combine Maoyan Pro and Beacon. Due to limited public information for some older works, data discrepancies between different ticketing platforms, and rounding calculations in this report, slight fluctuations in individual film box office figures are within normal error range.

​Note: The 2026 “Domestic Animated Film” Trend Report has no commercial sponsorships and no PDF version, All content is free and open to the public, This does not provide investment advice and is not authorized for sale by any individual or organization. Please do not be misled.

From 2009 to 2026, domestic animated films can be broadly divided into four different stages, marked by several milestone high-box-office films. Each stage corresponds to different market viewing perceptions and participant mindsets.

After the hiatus of traditional art films, the return of domestic animation to the big screen began with theatrical films based on TV series. Pleasant Goat, Boonie Bears, Mole's World, Seer, LocoRoco Kingdom… Children's IPs dominated. Before 2014, most films were traditionally 2D; afterward, 3D increased significantly. These films typically grossed tens of millions, with relatively low investment, providing the impetus for continued production. Among them, the Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf series repeatedly broke 100 million, strengthening the industry's confidence in children's animated films.

Monkey King: Hero Is Back shattered the stereotype that “domestic animated films are for kids.” Its 955 million yuan box office fired the first shot for all-age animated films. Generation Z used internet word-of-mouth to help set new box office records, and also added new labels and selling points for domestic animated films, such as “non-childish,” “original,” “traditional culture,” “word-of-mouth,” and “rise of Chinese animation.”

Monkey King: Hero Is Back became a peak that domestic animated films could not surpass for the next three-plus years. Breaking 100 million remained an unattainable goal for most animated films. Many adults who entered theaters to support domestic animation were disappointed by poor stories or shoddy production, sparking concerns that the rise of Chinese animation might be a flash in the pan.

But it was during this period that domestic animated films began to attract long-term “angel investors.” For example, Wang Wei of Light Chaser Animation, Yi Qiao (then at Enlight Media), and Ding Liang of Fangte. Their persistence ensured the output and development of top-tier domestic animated films over the following decade. At the same time, domestic animated films saw continuous improvement in art and visual quality, laying a solid technical foundation for later visual spectacles on the big screen.

Ne Zha: Birth of the Demon Child is a milestone in domestic commercial animated films. Its 5.035 billion yuan box office proved that besides the Spring Festival children's market, family-oriented films also have consumption potential in the summer period. Beyond making the film and its director famous, Ne Zha 1 inspired subsequent animated films in terms of CP character creation. Shipping CPs and fan content became another highly effective entry point for word-of-mouth promotion.

Also in 2019, White Snake: The Origin and The Legend of Hei sparked another wave of enthusiastic word-of-mouth for the “rise of Chinese animation” thanks to their high acclaim. Over the next five years, we saw more and more excellent animated films related to non-children's audiences, original screenplays, and traditional culture, such as 30,000 Miles from Chang'an, Jiang Ziya, Deep Sea, I Am What I Am, and Cha Er Zhong. Light Chaser Animation's White Snake and New Gods series also validated the audience development value of series animation.

During this phase, children's animation developed steadily. The most representative Boonie Bears series successfully experimented with shifting from fantasy to science fiction genres. Through increasingly mature production and word-of-mouth, it became one of the top choices for family viewers during the Spring Festival period in Chinese cinema.

Sustained market exposure and box office revenue accumulated a stable group of dedicated and improving creators for domestic animated films, creating opportunities beyond just creation. The era of zero-marketing films relying entirely on word-of-mouth has passed. Domestic animated films can now have online and offline promotional resources and can compete for higher screen share during distribution.

Creation, technology, sentiment, market… Domestic animated films officially entered mature development in 2025, with the industry entering an acceleration phase.

Ne Zha: The Sea of Devils brought a nationwide carnival during the Spring Festival, raising the box office ceiling for the Chinese film market. It proved the replicability of mature commercial animated films, the feasibility of telling Chinese stories, and the globally leading level of Chinese animation technology.

Beyond the theaters, the commercialization of Ne Zha 2—advertising partnerships, merchandise development, etc.—was quickly implemented. During its hot run, many co-branded products were “impossible to find.” Leveraging the increasingly mature supply chain of the 2D/fandom consumption market, Ne Zha 2 also became a top-tier case study in IP derivative licensing.

Two summer blockbusters from 2025-2026, Langlang Shan Xiao Yao Guai and Ba Xian!, attracted audiences into theaters with high word-of-mouth, boosting the overall box office base for domestic animated films. They also represent that the general box office threshold for competitively strong domestic animated films has risen from 100 million a decade ago, to 400 million five years ago, and now exceeds the 1 billion mark. Together with the Ne Zha series, they form a competitive market landscape for non-children's domestic animated films characterized by “one superpower and multiple strong players.”

Children's animated films also have their own “superpower.” The Boonie Bears series, with a long-term accumulation of 12 films over 12 years, has a total box office exceeding 9.6 billion yuan and is about to break the 10 billion mark. Its core audience has also expanded from the original children and family groups to a wider all-age audience. After all, over the years, the Boonie Bears IP has accompanied and witnessed the growth of more than one generation of children, making it one of the longest-running and most consistently productive series among original Chinese animated films.

What is certain is that domestic animated films, which have already entered the mainstream, will face fiercer competition, more releases, and a larger potential box office pool in the coming years. Market expectations also place higher demands on all aspects: writing, marketing, distribution, word-of-mouth management, and commercial development.

The performance of annual box office over the years indirectly confirms the changes in each phase of domestic animated films. From January 2009 to August 16, 2026, the 197 domestic animated films with box office over 10 million yuan within our report's scope accumulated a total box office of over 51.1 billion yuan. Among them, 47 films broke 100 million, 8 broke 1 billion, and 1 broke 10 billion.

From 2009 to 2013, the cumulative box office over five years was only 1.247 billion yuan, with 21 films exceeding 10 million and 5 exceeding 100 million. From 2014 to 2018, the annual cumulative box office for animated films was consistently above 1 billion yuan. Although the number of films exceeding 100 million was not large, the average number of films exceeding 10 million per year was over 15. After Monkey King: Hero Is Back in 2015, the annual champion of domestic animated films saw its viewership rise from the millions to the tens of millions.

Between 2019 and 2024, although the overall box office of domestic animated films fluctuated due to the pandemic, the annual box office was generally above 2 billion yuan, reaching 5 billion in some years. While the number of top-tier works did not increase significantly, their box office range clearly rose, demonstrating stronger revenue-generating power. The 140 million viewership of Ne Zha 1 elevated the typical viewership for subsequent annual champions to over 40 million.

Box office data in the post-Ne Zha 2 era is still in a growth period, but it is clearly felt that during the hot run of animated films, there are more IP licensing deals being implemented, commercial derivative developments being sold simultaneously, and audiences' recognition of animated films has extended from the story to the characters, from the screen to consumer goods, and from the cinema into daily life.

The current mainstream industry chain for domestic animated films is mainly divided into four segments: animation production, production and distribution, marketing and promotion, and commercial development. A few works have third-party copyright holders, while for most original works, the copyright holders are the production companies and production parties.

Unlike platform-led or thematic projects, domestic animated films typically start with the work, followed by investment. The animation creators act as one of the core investors and are deeply involved in every subsequent stage. Only a very few domestic animated films are produced entirely by a single production team that handles the full pipeline. This model has high labor costs and requires stable profit-generating projects to sustain the team, such as Light Chaser Animation and Fangte.

Most animated films adopt a model similar to a director's studio plus outsourced production. That is, the in-house team handles core roles like director, screenwriter, and pre-production. Then, through their own or the production party's producer team, the production process is distributed to dozens or even hundreds of outsourcing companies across the country. This model offers more flexibility in project timelines and more options, but requires higher coordination skills from the director, producers, and other roles. For example, works under the Enlight Coloroom system often use this model.

Different animation teams and directors produce different styles. After over a decade of development, a few companies have begun to see initial success in templated creation, and have accumulated loyal fan bases willing to pay for their brand.

Apart from the animation production, the audio portion (dubbing, music, sound effects) and promotional materials (posters, PVs) are mostly completed by outsourcing to professional teams.

The production logic for domestic animated films is more like a production committee. Pure financial investments are rare. Projects with profit potential release limited shares, while those with high profit risk have few willing to gamble. Among the production parties, in addition to the animation creation team as the core, most domestic animated films' production parties mainly handle distribution and promotion work, such as Maoyan, Enlight, Ruyi, China Film, Damai, etc. Some production parties invest in exchange for rights to online streaming, derivative development, etc., such as Bilibili Pictures, iQiyi Pictures, and Pop Mart.

Historically, marketing and promotion have not been emphasized in the field of domestic animated films. Reasons include: on one hand, animators tend to be introverted and less skilled at marketing; on the other hand, the effectiveness of marketing is difficult to quantify, making its value easily underestimated. Most animated films handle their own promotional work, either by the production or distribution side. In recent years, some professional film marketing companies have participated in the promotion of animated films, but the number is small. Examples include Xiaozhuo Culture, Bole Marketing, Loop Play, Infinite Freedom, Bukong Culture, and Kaola Bear.

Commercial development around domestic animated films has grown rapidly in recent years. Outside the cinema, the current revenue sources for domestic animated films include selling online streaming rights, developing derivative merchandise (guzi), and brand collaboration products. The popularity of hit characters extends the life cycle of the work, allowing for long-term commercial value even after release.

Currently, only a few works can generate revenue outside the cinema. Typically, a film needs to achieve a box office of 500 million or even 1 billion yuan or more to attract audiences to buy its derivative products. Therefore, there are almost no professional copyright agencies in the industry that specialize in the licensing development of animated film IPs; this is still led by the production parties.

Overall, the development of the domestic animated film industry chain is a continuous process of learning from and complementing traditional film and online animation. It learns from traditional cinema the anthology model, distribution methods, and production management approaches, and from online animation the non-box-office business models and fan content creation of popular characters. In the future, some film IPs will also come from traditional online literature, novels, games, animation, and comic adaptations, adding the role of IP copyright holders upstream in the industry chain.

Geographically, the initial industrial landscape for domestic animated films has taken shape. Beijing is a resource center gathering companies involved in production, distribution, promotion, and production management. Shanghai, represented by the Shanghai Animation Film Studio, explores new creative directions for traditional art films. Guangdong is both a stronghold for powerful children's IPs and a source of high-quality, original works with personality and style. Chengdu is driven by genius directors who have stimulated local industry development. Other regions such as Suzhou-Wuxi-Changzhou, Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei, Northeast China, and Central China have numerous production companies involved in making, contributing to the development of Chinese animation.

The director is the core of domestic animated film creation. Talented directors have their own distinct creative styles. Even in a series, different directors can produce significantly different quality. Among the 197 animated films with a box office over 10 million yuan that we analyzed, over 160 directors were active, and a total of 50 directors had cumulative box office exceeding 100 million yuan for their works. The director's ability sets the lower limit of a work's quality and also defines its upper limit to some extent, making them a key focus in animation project investment.

Among the TOP 20 directors by box office, one type is directors who have deep roots through multiple series works, developing long-term in the animated film field. They typically release a new film every 1-3 years, with improving quality and stable teams, and often mentor new directors to create together, such as Ding Liang, Lin Huida, and Lin Yongchang of the Boonie Bears series. Another type is genius directors with single works achieving high box office. They prefer independent creation, with each work's production cycle taking 3-5 years or even longer, such as Tian Xiaopeng, Jiaozi, Yu Shui, and Mou Zhengyang.

Although domestic animated films have a long development history, there are currently not many directors in the market capable of creating high-quality animated films. Established directors come with their own audience appeal, but audiences will not develop prejudice against high-quality works just because the director is a newcomer. The box office performance of Langlang Shan Xiao Yao Guai and Ba Xian! has validated the explosive potential of new directors. It is believed that more genius new directors will emerge in the future, alongside continued deep cultivation by veteran directors of series films.

From a long-term perspective, rather than betting on a single blockbuster, it is better to build a serialized reserve within an extensible worldview. Turning a single film into a growing IP is a prudent strategy for many companies. However, making an IP is clearly not easy. Releasing multiple films tests the team's overall strength, content creation ability, and the temperament of the core team. Long-term IP development requires not only passion but also more patience and income support.

Serialization is a conventional choice for high-box-office films and IP adaptations. To date, 17 series IPs with cumulative box office exceeding 100 million yuan have emerged in domestic animated films. They have a certain national recognition and stable viewing audience, and are often supported by revenue streams beyond box office, such as derivative products, brand licensing, animated series, and offline theme parks. The performance of each new release in a series fluctuates depending on its own content quality and the competitive environment of the same release window.

The highest box office is achieved by Jiaozi's Ne Zha: The Demon Child series, with two films grossing over 20.481 billion yuan in the mainland. The largest number of films is the Boonie Bears series, with 12 films accumulating over 9.61 billion yuan. The cumulative total box office of other series IPs is below 1.5 billion yuan. The Little Submarine series is the IP with the longest life cycle within the scope, though its box office is not outstanding; since the first film's release in 2008, new works continue to appear on the big screen.

Most serially IPs are children's oriented, with over 10 years of accumulation, intervals of 1-2 years between installments, and 5-10 films each with cumulative box office over 10 million yuan, forming a stable business model. Examples include the GG Bond series from Winsing Animation and the New Big Head Son and Little Head Dad series from CCTV Animation.

Non-children's animated films have a shorter development history in the domestic market. Not many have completed multiple films and been successfully released. The number of films in series IPs is mostly 2-3, such as Light Chaser Animation's White Snake series and New Gods series, Mu Tou's The Legend of Hei, and Yidong Culture's I Am What I Am series.

What will the domestic animated film market look like in the next 3-5 years? The slate of upcoming films is an important basis for analysis. We have compiled 445 works that completed script registration at the Film Bureau from January 2024 to July 2026. Although only the film title, registration entity, screenwriter, and a brief script summary are available, they are sufficient to draw some conclusions.

Breaking down the script registration numbers by year, there were 132 in 2024, 161 in 2025, and 152 as of July 2026. It is evident that the Ne Zha 2 effect has spurred more project filings and more participants entering the game. Although the number of registrations is high, very few will actually be completed and receive wide theatrical release. The final stories of many films will also be adjusted from the registration information, and the 445 registered projects of recent years will be no exception. For commercial animated films with wide releases, the production cycle from script registration to release is typically around 2 years, which may be shortened to 6-8 months for children's series films, while a few projects may extend to 3-5 years after registration.

From the film titles and synopses, the animated films in preparation have several characteristics: A high proportion of children's content, including new films in classic series IPs, animal protagonists, fairy tale adaptations, and historical stories; traditional culture IPs are also a mainstay, with new interpretations and mashups still being the mainstream. The sources of inspiration are wide-ranging, from Han Yuefu poetry to Yuan Dynasty drama, from the Four Great Classical Novels to contemporary literature, from Fengshen Bang to Classic of Mountains and Seas, from landmark buildings to intangible cultural heritage—everything is covered. In terms of specific characters, the value of Wukong is self-evident, and Erlang Shen, Red Boy, Chang'e, Mulan, and Mazu also appear frequently. Three Kingdoms has become one of the most frequently referenced works aside from Journey to the West.

After reviewing the information on these works, one truly feels the profound depth of Chinese traditional culture. Even with so many diverse script registrations, they can still maintain freshness for the audience. There is absolutely no impression of “not enough traditional culture”; rather, one wants to exclaim, “This can be made into an animated film too?”

Fantasy and science fiction remain the mainstream for the domestic animated film market in the near future. There are also a small number of historical, war, and xuanhuan (mystical) animations, while realist subjects are very rare. After all, the advantage of animation lies in creating visual spectacles; realist stories test the screenwriting skills too much. But which projects will ultimately become true blockbusters when the final results are submitted is still unknown. Among seemingly unremarkable story outlines, there are bound to be hidden gems that surprise the market.

Besides stable series IP sequels, sequels to blockbuster films or top directors, random appearances by genius directors, and new works from established animation film companies, the registration information also reveals the participation of two major groups worth noting. First, the deep involvement of traditional filmmakers and traditional film and television companies. For example, registrations include Tiangong Kaiwu (The Exploitation of the Works of Nature) scripted by renowned director Lu Chuan, The Great Human Battle by renowned director Tsui Hark, and Half-Demon Si Teng registered by Lianrui Pictures. There are also adaptations of traditional novel IPs into animated films, such as The Trouble with the Celestial Secretary and Battlefield Flowers. Their works may bring new creative concepts and more solid promotion and distribution resources to the animated film industry.

Second, the adaptation of online-born IPs, including online novels, anime series, and domestic manhua. For instance, The Outcast, Douluo Continent, Cangyuan Tu, The Legend of Hei, The Bizarre Tales, etc. Moving from the internet to the big screen, they bring not only the art style of online anime series but, more importantly, introduce new IP copyright holders and investors from internet companies. They also differ from the traditional habit of theatrical films relying too heavily on a short release window, attempting to combine multiple media for long-term IP operation and commercial development concepts and ideas.

Of course, there are also some domestic animated films that have been officially announced but have not yet completed script registration. Among them will certainly be blockbuster works released within the next 5 years, and we leave room for more anticipation for these works.

After reviewing information on 197 released domestic animated films and 445 registered ones, we boldly predict the top ten development trends in the domestic animated film field over the next 3-5 years, which also include our thoughts and expectations for the industry.

In the next five years, domestic animated films will undoubtedly be a sunrise industry with many excellent works, box office growth, audience recognition, and broad commercial prospects, driving the common development of both the domestic film and domestic animation fields. The current number of registered works, talent reserves, mainstream media attention, market word-of-mouth feedback, and attractiveness of derivative licensing development all provide objective preparation conditions for the upward period of the domestic film market.

A sunrise industry means fiercer competition, more new players entering, each with their own strengths and resources. The influx of capital and talent exacerbates the Matthew effect in the industry: resources will gather towards the stronger side, the strong get stronger, and box office polarization becomes the new normal.

Competition in the content industry ultimately boils down to the quality of the work, and this is especially evident in domestic animated films. This relatively immature field has not yet seen too many phenomena like popular directors/actors carrying the box office, resource monopolies through competition, or malicious fandom infighting. The general attitude of the audience is to support by buying tickets, and the original intention of creators is to make Chinese animation better.

Although there is competition among creators, there is more collaboration: mutual help in production capacity and mutual appreciation in creation. Audiences don't necessarily avoid one film just because they watched another; they mostly support with an inclusive attitude. As long as good works continue to be produced, there is still plenty of room for growth in domestic animated films.

Creators and audiences jointly maintain the growth of the overall market. Audiences are willing to enter theaters and actively give feedback, and distributors are willing to adjust screen share based on market feedback—this is a sign of healthy industry development. However, the true quality of a work cannot be faked, and box office polarization will become more pronounced. As more films are released, competition within popular slots like Spring Festival and summer will become fiercer, requiring increasingly higher comprehensive capabilities from film production and distribution parties.

In the next five years, the market for children's animated viewers will remain stable for a long time. While children's films find it difficult to contribute blockbusters with box office over 1 billion, they will remain the mainstay in the 50 million to 100 million range, and there will also be films breaking 100 million during key slots like Children's Day and winter/summer vacations. Children's animated films have relatively lower investment, allowing them to be profitable and sustain long-term development within this box office range.

Youth-oriented animation has been the mainstay of high-box-office animation in recent years. The audience is made up of viewers who grew up watching children's animation over the past decade, and are also internet-era natives who have accompanied the “rise of Chinese animation” along the way. They are pure and passionate, expressing their likes directly and rebelliously, and are willing to discuss and share on the internet. Most importantly, this group has both content consumption ability and purchasing habits for derivative licensed products outside the theater. They will also be the core audience for online-born IP-adapted films in the next few years. If a film's quality satisfies this group, it will generate a certain fan effect, with box office revenue typically exceeding 500 million yuan, along with steady non-box-office income.

To truly achieve box office of 1 billion yuan or more still requires meeting the viewing needs of family audiences. That is, the film must be understandable and appealing to viewers of all ages and genders, triggering emotional resonance, rather than stubbornly clinging to niche, personalized, stream-of-consciousness styles. Production and art must also be top-notch. In recent years, top children's series IPs have also been trying to move towards family-friendly directions, including upgrading stories and production. But breaking the public's stereotype of an existing IP is not easy, and this will be the core challenge for children's IP upgrade.

What impact will the entry of new players have on domestic animated films—more positive or more negative? The films that will be released intensively over the next two years will provide the answer.

Traditional filmmakers bring experience and characteristics different from animation in terms of big-screen storytelling, camera work, and art style. They will certainly bring new inspiration to animated content creation. They come with their own audience base, topic potential, promotion and distribution resources, and capital. Some have animation professional backgrounds and are using established IPs for animation adaptation. The high starting point brought by these advantages is worth looking forward to. However, production capacity is the first hurdle to overcome. Traditional filmmakers making animation need a bridge between live-action films and animation—people who understand both—and such talent is rare in the industry. Domestic animation production capacity is relatively fixed, and past collaboration with the film and television circle has been limited. A filmmaker's animation debut may not be able to use top-tier domestic animation production capacity. Outsourcing partnerships will face many adjustments in creative and communication habits, and the final visual presentation may differ greatly from the director's vision. Building in-house production capacity is unlikely, and the film and television CG companies they have worked with usually lack full pipeline capabilities or have different art styles. These conditions will all affect the production cycle and quality of a traditional filmmaker's first animated film.

In contrast, the problems faced by animation series companies and video platforms are the opposite. They have sufficient and mature production teams, IP sources, and a fan base. What they lack is the ability to control 120-minute big-screen narratives, the high-density promotion and distribution capabilities required for a short release window, and the word-of-mouth management skills needed to compete in the same slot. Although video platforms can get support from their internal film business teams or seek external professional support, facing a new field still requires time for exploration and adaptation.

Traditional culture remains the main source of inspiration for domestic animated films. Eleven years ago, Monkey King: Hero Is Back smashed the market's stereotype of domestic animated films with a single blow, and it still needs to occasionally make cameo appearances in new films to move audiences to tears. This is also an inevitable result influenced by various objective factors.

Currently, the screenwriting ability of most domestic animated films is insufficient to support purely original works, and investors are unwilling to take such high risks. Top films in box office history are all adaptations of traditional culture. Mythological IPs familiar to audiences can avoid a cold start in the title and PV, attracting the first wave of viewers, and can also gain public support during the box office rise. Compared to realistic daily-life subjects, fantasy, science fiction, and xuanhuan stories are more suitable for presenting visual spectacles through animation. Most importantly, China's traditional cultural content reserves are rich and diverse enough, with countless high-quality materials to support creation, adaptation, and new interpretations. Although most current script registrations are still limited to sources like Journey to the West, Three Kingdoms, Fengshen Bang, and Classic of Mountains and Seas.

Online-born IPs will move to the big screen with the entry of new players. The first challenge for trial adaptations of online novels, anime, manhua, and game IPs is creating original or adapted film screenplays. Whether the script quality satisfies IP fans and attracts a broader audience will determine the impact on the entire IP's reputation.

Unlike traditional animated films, for online-born IPs, the film is just one link in their content development. While they hope for high box office revenue, they also hope to use the film's heat to nourish the IP and develop richer derivative content and products. This business logic may bring downstream resources and experience to the film industry, achieving complementary advantages.

Whether children's, youth, or family-friendly, most domestic animated films today have similar narratives, showing signs of templating and formulization. This is an inevitable path during the early stages of industry development. It provides the market with a stable and predictable base.

This phenomenon is mainly reflected in: Single genre: children's films are either science fiction or fantasy adventure; non-children's are fantasy emotion or traditional culture new adaptations. Similar core elements: children's films always involve team adventures, time travel, happy endings; youth films always have depression, pain, and family of origin issues; family-friendly films are likely to be funny in the beginning, miserable in the middle, and inspiring at the end. Stereotypical character development: for example, the protagonist must save a cat at the beginning, the main team always consists of two people forming a CP, the protagonist is always arrogant, rebellious, and fighting, new characters are always good at first and later turn into villains, and villains often reflect real-world groups.

Of course, this is not entirely a bad thing. Creating following successful market cases is better than writing blindly. But when formulaic stories become too common, audiences will start to experience aesthetic fatigue and need freshness, deeper emotional resonance, or a unique perspective different from the past. At this point, the core of the story becomes particularly important. Compared to traditional animators who bury themselves in work, the future of domestic animated films requires more creators with keen market insights, who, during creation, think about who they are telling the story for, which groups to attract, what emotions and feelings to evoke, and how they differentiate from past works.

The entry of traditional filmmakers and series animators into the domestic animated film industry brings the most direct impact not only in IP sources but also in changes to art style. Over the past decade, the art of domestic animated films on the big screen has still been concentrated in Japanese-style 2D animation and American-style 3D animation. In terms of facial features, body proportions, color, texture, and lighting, they lean more towards overseas creative habits. Terms like “ugly,” “pointy chin,” and “chopstick legs,” which differ from traditional Chinese public aesthetics, have become prevalent. This is also related to many animation talents having overseas study or work backgrounds.

Even in the past three years, some works have promoted themselves as “de-Americanized and de-Japanized,” but they still retain many Western traces in character modeling, which is not truly Chinese-style modeling in the traditional sense. There is even a mix of Chinese subject matter, American 3D style, and Japanese-style anime narrative.

The participation of new players will bring a batch of Chinese-style 2D animation and works under China's animation industrial system (3D) to the big screen. There have already been successful cases like Langlang Shan Xiao Yao Guai and The Legend of Hei moving from online animation to the big screen. Next, many online-born 3D animation projects will be released, bringing freshness to the market with differentiated Chinese-style 3D and Chinese-style art effects.

With more people and money flowing into domestic animated films, the improvement of the promotion and distribution system is an inevitable trend. Although many films currently do not hire professional marketing companies for support, when a film is not good or faces a serious word-of-mouth crisis, marketing companies indeed cannot solve the root problem. However, high-box-office films must have support from multiple professional marketing companies. The promotion window for films is short, and the tasks are very fragmented; non-professional companies can hardly cover everything.

Even if many creators believe their film is good and doesn't need promotion, to rely on word-of-mouth communication, they must first attract the first batch of audiences into theaters. Most domestic animated films tend to start cold; only a few have a fan base. Even with a fan base, there are plenty of failure cases where promotion was not done well. Pre-release positioning, word-of-mouth management, and material placement are all very important. In today's film market, even if the wine is good, the alley is deep. Therefore, animated films with significant investment and confidence in their projects will be increasingly willing to spend money on promotion and marketing. However, there are not many talents and companies that understand animation, film, and marketing simultaneously. The selection of marketing companies is important.

The domestic film market distribution is very sensitive. Theaters follow the box office: if people are watching, they get screen share. Although many animated films are not strong in distribution, as long as the work has quality, buzz, and paying audiences, distribution is not a worry. However, non-top-tier works with acceptable distribution capabilities should be cautious with sneak previews. If early small-scale sneak previews destroy word-of-mouth, it can directly affect the official release's screen share and attendance.

Overseas distribution is still a blue ocean. Works that gain mainstream recognition domestically have every opportunity to compete for more global box office when going abroad. Cultural differences raise the threshold of understanding, but the values conveyed by the work can resonate universally. Courageously going abroad is the first step to being understood, and even more, the starting point for cultural exchange. Domestic animated films will inevitably become an important medium for cultural confidence and a cultural business card for a major country.

In the past, when domestic animated films left the theater, they could only earn additional income from selling online streaming rights, at most some plush toys for children's films. Today, IP-based animated films can penetrate all aspects of consumers' lives—clothing, food, housing, transportation—and maintain a long-term development cycle after leaving theaters.

There are two main reasons for the rapid growth of commercialization of animated films: first, high-box-office, high-heat works break out and spark discussion; second, the growth of 2D/fandom consumption in recent years, with a mature and complete industry chain that can quickly integrate IP for product monetization. Based on this, the creation of domestic animated films can also consider shifting from a work-focused mindset to an IP-focused mindset, preparing for product development from the content creation stage, and adding developable design elements.

Animated films that leave the theater will also return to the theater, promoting the transformation of theaters from single screening spaces to super entertainment spaces. From basic derivative product sales and limited product sets to deeper interactive immersive experiences, commercial expansion based on blockbuster content will continue to grow.

Animated films often reflect the individual heroism of the director and the collective portrait of the vast, unsung production team. Even with industry growth, there will not be a massive talent increase in a short time. Making animation has its thresholds. Although overall, the national animation production capacity is limited, the films delivered by different director teams vary vastly. In the coming years, domestic animated films will maintain the creative habit of a director-centric system. Scarce genius directors determine the number and completion degree of blockbuster works.

Although the director determines whether a work is outstanding or mediocre, a broader range of production staff supports the director in realizing the visual presentation. Technological progress across the entire industry and the improvement of industrial processes help more directors realize their dreams, and also give more creators the opportunity to become directors after accumulating experience. The quality of domestic animated films on the big screen improves year by year, and visual progress never stops. The industry's development also relies on more creative people who invest long-term and specialize in their areas, bringing China's animation production capacity in line with the world's top level. The rapid development of domestic animated films will also attract more top talents from different fields to participate, bringing new ideas to existing production teams.

The biggest risk for domestic animated films is the mismatch between word-of-mouth and work quality. Social media dissemination and increasingly complex fandom dynamics mean many animated films face a trial of word-of-mouth upon release. Films with poor quality but inflated word-of-mouth are easily exposed, while works of good quality that fail to promote their word-of-mouth effectively may suffer losses due to low box office.

Beyond the content itself, the statements of core creators, online and offline marketing activities, collaboration partners, and co-branding brands all require greater caution, especially for works of higher quality, to avoid backlash from non-content reasons during the hot release period, which could affect audience attendance and harm excellent creators and works.

Some works exhibit “overreactive” behavior due to excessive word-of-mouth management, labeling any objective criticism as troll attacks, even pursuing online harassment, which adversely affects neutral viewers. Allowing normal audience opinions and recognizing that different people have different tastes are lessons that more creators and promotion teams need to learn.

​Conclusion: The industry is a sunrise, but for individual films, it presents layer upon layer of challenges. Yet we still prefer to look at the future of the domestic animated film market with a more optimistic mindset, hoping that every creator can find an audience that resonates with their work, and that domestic animated films can step onto a broader world stage, spreading the beauty and kindness rooted in the Chinese spirit.

Best wishes to Chinese cinema, and best wishes to Chinese animators!

Author | Jin Ya Source | Yuli

Summer 2026 sees another new director joining the film world. The animated film To Your Island, releasing on August 7, is directed by newcomer Zhou Haoran, his first theatrical feature.

Last weekend saw sneak previews of two major films, Welcome to the Dragon Restaurant and Odyssey; Spider-Man: Freshman Year and Eight Immortals! continue their strong runs. To Your Island dares to release in this window because this fantasy romance animated film is completely different in genre from the others, and during previews it has earned good word of mouth. In this AI era, if you want to watch a film painstakingly crafted by hand, if you want to be moved by love and family bonds between people, To Your Island is a great choice.

The original novel of To Your Island is a famous IP from Jinjiang. A girl named Wang Jiexiang is carried by an origami crane to a mysterious island, where she journeys with her ex-boyfriend Yin Xian, who has transformed into a rabbit, on a healing adventure. In Zhou Haoran's view, this is a fairy tale like a dried plum candy—the outer shell is coated with sweet, crystalline fairy-tale syrup, but inside it contains a somewhat bittersweet realist story.

Not shying away from the bitterness of life, but willing to believe the world is beautiful—Zhou Haoran's own life also wavers between ideals and reality. A graduate of Tongji University's animation program, he has stood on festival podiums basking in lights and applause, but back in real life he has to survive, to make a living, juggling part-time jobs with creative work. He once became a worker on Foxconn's assembly line, but was quickly pulled onto a different path by Guangxian Animation and Li Yuchun.

The animation industry keeps putting forward new directors. Today let's get to know this story-rich Zhou Haoran, and see how a newcomer director handles a hot IP.

01 From Small-Town Youth to Film Director​

Zhou Haoran's hometown is a very small county in Zhuzhou, Hunan—You County. He grew up in the countryside; his family's cable TV couldn't pick up any cartoon channels, and the only animation he watched as a child was Doraemon. When applying for college, he didn't know how to choose a major and stumbled into the animation program at Tongji University. Once in Shanghai, he realized, "Oh, so this is what the world is like."

"I've always had this inexplicable stubbornness—I figure since fate brought me here, I might as well go for it."

After entering university, Zhou Haoran began catching up on the classic animations of Hayao Miyazaki and Pixar, while also extensively exploring live-action films. This young man, who loved to write stories and had a delicate emotional sensibility, gradually discovered how well the animation major suited him.

While still in school, Zhou Haoran's 3D animated short Harry won awards at festivals in 2017, and his 2021 animated short project Straw Diary was nominated for Best Narrative Short Film at the 15th FIRST International Film Festival. These accolades encouraged Zhou Haoran to persist on the path of animation, but behind the awards lay very real issues: where would the investment come from? How would he survive?

Zhou Haoran says he is very conflicted, constantly torn between working a regular job and creating. "Animation directors like me who live from meal to meal save up money by working; when I feel like there's a story I want to tell, the urge to tell it drives me to quit my job and start working on shorts. Then often I run out of money while making the short and have to go back to work. I keep bouncing back and forth between a state of supporting myself through a day job and starving myself to create."

During his student days, Zhou Haoran was encouraged by seniors to submit his works to investment forums and film festivals as much as possible. The biggest goal was to let people see that there was a young animation director named Zhou Haoran out there.

After FIRST, Zhou Haoran was indeed noticed. One day he received a direct message on Weibo from a staff member at Guangxian Animation, saying they had seen his short works online and wanted to invite him to Beijing for a meeting.

"Is this a scam?" was Zhou Haoran's first reaction. But when they discussed buying plane tickets and booking hotels, he realized it probably wasn't a con. After arriving in Beijing, Zhou Haoran soon met with Guangxian chairman Wang Changtian and Guangxian Pictures CEO Li Xiaoping.

"The common animation types are still mostly myth-based, but the scripts I write are more modern fantasy. So after we met, I told them about my upbringing. After learning about it, they thought the novel To Your Island might suit me well. I got the novel that same day, and after reading it I found that Wang Jiexiang's background is quite similar to mine, and the story between her and Yin Xian was very touching. So I wrote a detailed proposal and sent it to them. After discussing it, they liked some of my ideas and gradually decided to let me take on this project."

After receiving this opportunity, Zhou Haoran started to focus on making the film. But animated films have long production cycles—from confirming the intention to actually starting work, a year and a half passed with slow progress. At that time Zhou Haoran was very anxious, thinking his directing path had come to an end, so he went back to working.

As a child, Zhou Haoran was a left-behind kid. His parents had always been working in Shenzhen, living in urban villages. The rental room where Wang Jiexiang and Yin Xian live in To Your Island looks a lot like his parents' place. To save on rent, Zhou Haoran went to stay with his parents. His father was a night-shift taxi driver, and his mother worked at Foxconn. This time he chose to follow his mother and work on the Foxconn assembly line.

On the Foxconn assembly line, you couldn't bring your phone. His job was to scan barcodes on over 8,000 phone chargers a day, earning 25 yuan per hour. But after the labor agency deducted fees, his take-home pay was 17 yuan per hour.

After a few days on the assembly line, a turning point arrived.

A friend from FIRST introduced Zhou Haoran to Li Yuchun's studio, inviting him to direct the music video for Li Yuchun's song Five Viscera and Six Bowels. When Zhou Haoran went to meet Li Yuchun, it happened to be the anniversary of her debut, and she was having hotpot with her team. Facing his idol, Zhou Haoran was nervous, but his drive was strong.

"I always feel like a kid, and that inexplicable stubbornness kicked in again—I figured since I'm here, let's go all out. So I talked very sincerely with Chun Chun about my creative ideas. Chun Chun was really nice, and we clicked immediately. In the end, she entrusted the job to me."

Now Zhou Haoran jokes, "I'm very grateful to Teacher Li Yuchun for rescuing me from the assembly line."

02 Newcomer Director and Hot IP​

Meanwhile, the To Your Island project also resumed moving forward. Zhou Haoran soon moved to Beijing and began an office-based creative life at Guangxian Animation.

Why did a new director who had only made shorts get the chance to direct this hot IP? After talking with Zhou Haoran, the Yuli studio found the answer.

Like the protagonist Wang Jiexiang, Zhou Haoran grew up in the countryside as an emotionally sensitive child. When he was little, he would ride his bike to and from school along a road flanked by rice fields. He turned this childhood memory into a fairy-tale image in the animation, placing it in Wang Jiexiang's growing-up memories.

Every summer vacation during his childhood, Zhou Haoran would go to Shenzhen to reunite with his parents. He couldn't go to work with them and, so as not to disturb the roommates' privacy, he couldn't watch TV either. He could only hole up in the tiny rental room with nothing to do. Later, as an adult director attending film festivals everywhere, he seemed glamorous to outsiders. But when he returned to the Shenzhen rental to stay with his parents, he realized he was thirty years old and still hadn't given his parents a good life. What he felt was a heartache, sitting in that room not knowing what to do—when talking about this feeling, Zhou Haoran's eyes reddened.

"Every time I attend a film festival, I see the very glamorous side of the world. But deep down I'm still a country kid, and all I see is the crowded, bitter side. So my perspective is rather fragmented." This upbringing gave Zhou Haoran a pair of eyes good at seeing both sides of the world—beauty and splendor on one hand, isolation and hardship on the other. And this is likely exactly what aligned with the To Your Island project—the film constructs a world where dreams and reality interweave.

Zhou Haoran describes To Your Island as a dried plum candy. The story is coated with a layer of fairy-tale, cute, crystalline syrup, but inside it contains the bitterness of reality. He uses his own attitude toward life to adjust the ratio of sweetness to pain.

"First of all, I won't avoid the pain in our reality. Because I've seen some of the suffering in the world since I was a child, I won't turn away from it. But I think as an animator, I'm always willing to believe the world is good. I want to use the youthful, pure, innocent perspective of animation to tell such stories, and in our own way heal all the wounds of the characters in this film.

"So I won't shoot this story in a heart-wrenching way. For example, when Yin Xian says 'I don't have a home,' Wang Jiexiang draws him a house. I would also approach the story that way. I always hope to use gentle, fairy-tale brushstrokes to soothe the more piercing pains of reality."

To Your Island is an animated film "handcrafted by old methods." The project went through more than 2,000 days and nights of creation, and the film contains many scenes that were extremely difficult to produce.

"For example, the urban village sequence—the house emerges from the water, and then buildings start being built around it. That part was very complex; we worked on it for over a year. And the reveal that Wang Jiexiang has already passed away—that's a long take—we worked on it for nearly nine months. Also, there's a special art style: when raindrops enter the frame, there's a kind of strand-like simulation effect, as if things are getting wet and blurring, giving the audience a sense of memory. That also took a while to develop."

In the process of overcoming these difficulties, Zhou Haoran often felt like breaking down and giving up. At those times, he would go to Ditan Park near Guangxian Animation to sit for a while. After an hour or two, he would regain his inner peace and find the courage to start again.

In recent years, the animation industry has seen a surge of new directors. Newcomers like Zhou Haoran can finally be seen by audiences because of their passion and persistence.

"We have to balance economic and worldly issues, but we still have creative dreams in our hearts. So everyone has to go through a long, painful, agonizing, lonely creative process. Everyone is lovely in that they always feel there's light ahead—just a little light, and we can keep going. Those who persist through this process may be noticed.

"Especially animation creation—it's really a job that takes an extremely long time. If along the way you waver even a little, or feel that this thing isn't particularly meaningful to tell, and you haven't found the core of your creation, then many difficulties will knock you down. But every time I think about the points in the film that moved me, I feel this story is good, and I'm willing to devote six years or even longer to making it. I have to start from my own heart, find the root of my creation, so I can endure these barren times."

03 From Text to Animation​

The original novel of To Your Island is a popular online IP. Adapting it from text to images means first having to pass the test of the original book's fans.

Zhou Haoran's adaptation principle is to respect the original work, focusing as much as possible on the emotional main line between Wang Jiexiang and Yin Xian within the limited runtime, and recreating as many iconic scenes as possible. However, due to the film's length, some cuts and changes had to be made. The original author, Fan Dawang, also personally participated in the script adaptation this time. Together, the director and screenwriters slimmed down the main storyline.

During adaptation, Zhou Haoran realized that using animation to present a love story has the advantage of always keeping the perspective of a young person's purity and innocence, which might bring a refreshing feel to a romance. The scene in the high school room where Wang Jiexiang draws a house and a swing for Yin Xian, who says "I don't have a home," is a very animated expression. Also, the premise of the male lead transforming into a rabbit naturally suits the animation format.

The little rabbit version of Yin Xian in To Your Island is designed to be very cute. The director revealed that the rabbit has many of Yin Xian's characteristics: "For instance, the distance between his eyebrows and eyes, his flat upper eyelids, his mournful eyes, even a bit of dark circles—all subtly correspond to the real Yin Xian."

When working on the "island" portion, Zhou Haoran also deliberately emphasized the contrast in the relationship between the two characters through design—in reality, Yin Xian is a block of wood, but the island is his inner world, where he can talk more. In reality, it seems Yin Xian is dominant, with Wang Jiexiang always following behind him. But on the island, this dynamic flips: the little rabbit asks Wang Jiexiang if she can save him, but she deliberately refuses. The little rabbit can only trot after her, with his short arms and legs, but can't keep up. This creates an inexplicable sense of humor and satisfaction.

On the other hand, the narrative structure of a novel and the audiovisual language of animation are two completely different systems. The subtle, delicate aspects of love present a whole new challenge for animation.

"Text leaves a lot of room for imagination, but images are definite—it's either there or it isn't. In text, I can imagine Yin Xian's restrained and hidden love for Jiexiang. But in animation, how do you show the turbulent emotions beneath a calm exterior? How do you accurately capture those complex, subtle things within a very narrow range? That's very difficult.

"So while keeping Yin Xian's avoidant attachment personality trait, we still want the audience to know that Yin Xian loves Jiexiang. To make his love visible, we designed some details for him in the film.

"For example, when he says the line 'The juicer company—nobody wanted it, so the boss gave it to me,' his eyes dart away, and his hand scratches his head—these expressions make his tough exterior and soft heart visible. Another example: he 'scolds' Jiexiang while applying medicine for her. When she argues with him and runs to the overpass crying, he follows her, still keeping his mouth shut but silently holding a flashlight to light her way. When Jiexiang asks him why they're together, he says it's to make each other's lives more convenient. Between the word 'convenient,' he pauses for a breath, which makes you feel he's saying something against his will in the heat of an argument—it's not what he really wants to say. All of these are details we hope allow the audience to see the boy's restrained and hidden love through his actions and behavior."

The scene where Wang Jiexiang and Yin Xian reunite in the thick fog to give the rabbit is the one that left the deepest impression on Zhou Haoran. To express the turmoil beneath calmness, to capture the complex and subtle elements, behind it was the collaborative work of over a dozen animators.

"When he sees Jiexiang again, Yin Xian has already aged. His frail body and restrained personality dictate that we must put a very strong emotion beneath a calm exterior. How do you express 'infinity' within 'nothingness'? The range given to animation is really small. We shot a lot of reference footage. Over a dozen animators filmed many takes, and then we selected the best parts from each.

"One colleague blinked very slowly with subtle pupil movements, which seemed to convey more shock and stupor. Another leaned forward slightly, stretching out their neck a bit, which seemed to help show anticipation. Another added a sudden, distracted look of panic before delivering the line 'Pangpang, I bought the rabbit,' which was also great. We spliced together the best parts from everyone, and that's what you see in the film. In live-action, actors can let their emotions flow naturally; in animation, every blink and head-turn is actually the result of careful deliberation by the animators."

When talking about this scene, Zhou Haoran couldn't help but get teary-eyed. To Your Island is described by many fans of the original book as a "tragically beautiful" story, but Zhou Haoran hopes the feeling the film leaves the audience with is warmth and strength.

"Some people also discuss: if we're destined to part, then what is the meaning of meeting? I often feel disappointed in human relationships myself, and often doubt whether love really exists and whether it can last. Making this story, especially the final scene of the film, gave me a lot of courage. When the elderly Yin Xian visits Jiexiang's grave, he finds the small flower she embroidered for him inside his sweater—it's called the winter daphne flower. This small flower is like a sun, illuminating their universe, telling the audience that love truly exists in our world. The winter daphne flower existed in their love, and the character Wang Jiexiang existed."

In the film, due to his childhood experiences, Yin Xian never developed a proper way to love. He is a beginner in love, and by the time he understands it, it's already too late. After that, a part of his life is taken away by that rain, and he spends the rest of his life in remembrance.

The story presented in the film is very dramatic. Zhou Haoran says, just like a line from The Curious Case of Benjamin Button: "We're meant to lose the people we love. How else would we know how important they are to us?" He hopes To Your Island can also bring the audience this strength and reflection. After watching the film, return to reality and think about how to love the people around you.