Fight Against Evil 3 (东北警察故事3, Yang Bingjia, 2026)

Top cop Li Hongqi (returns for another holiday gone wrong in the third instalment of the Fight Against Evil series, and there is indeed some serious evil to be thought. Directed this time by Yang Bingjia rather than Qin Pengfei, Fight Against Evil 3 (东北警察故事3, Dōngběi jǐngchá gùshi)received a theatrical release in Mainland China rather than premiering on IQYI’s streaming service and so benefits from slightly higher production values and features a mild tonal shift that sends the film into action comedy territory.

In fact the first “fight” takes place off-screen as Honqi casually takes down a man who’s taken his wife hostage so that he can finish a telephone call with the rather demanding mother-in-law (Diama Lin Xiaojie) he hasn’t actually me though he and his wife Touzi have already been married for two years. Having become estranged from her birthmother, Touzi tells him not to bother with her because she’s a handful, though Hongqi is keen to be a good son-in-law and hopes to broker a reconciliation by agreeing to his mother-in-law’s madcap plan to stage a second wedding in her hometown without actually telling Touzi until she gets there. 

In any case, Hongqi is immediately distracted when Xinxin (Ma Qianyi) , a cheerful teenage girl he met on the plane, is reported missing, suspected of having fallen victim to traffickers after failing to reach her grandfather’s house. Hongqi feels personally responsible because he said he’d take her, but had to leave after hearing that his mother-in-law had been arrested for causing trouble in a cafe. Nevertheless, the mother-in-law proves to be unusually well connected and helps him track down the local crime kingpin whom she apparently knew when he was a snivelling child getting beaten up for his lunch money. 

On his arrival in the town, Hong’s old friend Sun Biao (Cui Zhijia) tells him that times are different now and they have to do law enforcement in a more “civilised” way, which might suggest that things work differently here compared to the city, though as it turns out Hong’s skills are still in demand as he finds himself repeatedly getting into brawls with the local bad guys. Even Baio also gets into the swing of things wanting to prove that his fighting skills are still as good as Hongqi’s. This is, however, violence very much in the service as justice as everyone involved in the fights is already an active participant in the world of crime and the violence is being used to subdue rather than interrogate them.

Meanwhile, the trafficking gang seems to be an offshoot of some kind of cult that attracts people who’ve encountered financial ruin due to contemporary social issues from being scammed to failing in business or developing a gambling problem. Most of the lower-ranking members are doing this more out of desperation and have abandoned their humanity as a means of survival, not that it excuses what they’ve done. The leader, meanwhile, experienced a tragedy of her own which seems to have affected her mind and has made her especially attached to young Xinxin who otherwise proves plucky and resourceful with her repeated attempts to escape from the gang.

Despite the grimness of the subject matter, the film finds plenty of opportunities for comedy not least in the zany antics of Hongqi’s mother-in-law who also has a justice-loving heart and at one point takes off to catch the kidnappers herself on her moped. There’s a fundamental absurdity to Hong’s existence in which he’s been yet again drawn into a case while supposedly on holiday while attempting to keep his demanding mother-in-law happy and keeping the whole thing secret from wife in the hope he can either bamboozle her into taking part or she will arrive and talk her mother out of it. This sense of absurdity also carries over into some of the fight scenes in which Hongqi has to fight off an entire gang while his mother-in-law hides under a table in a pool hall or has to go undercover in a club, despite looking the most like a policeman it’s possible to look without actually wearing a uniform.

It is not, however, all slapstick and still features some seriously impressive action sequences. The film also makes some attempt to mine humour in the decidedly unfunny customary series of title cards explaining that the nation is taking measures to combat human trafficking and explaining that everyone was caught and punished in accordance of law before finishing on a note that explains China has over two million police officers, which is intended to be reassuring but perhaps is also the exact opposite. Nevertheless, the film is a great deal fun as Hongqi and his mother-in-law fight off bad guys while simultaneously planning a wedding.


Fight Against Evil 3 screens 23rd August as part of Big Bad Film Fest.

Trailer (Simplified Chinese subtitles only)

Wings of Dread (万米危机, Ashton Chen Xiaolong & Qin Pengfei, 2026)

Perhaps surprisingly, aeroplanes seem to be dangerous places in recent Chinese cinema. From the hardware failure of The Captain to Oxide Pang’s hijacking drama High Forces, something always seems to go seriously amiss when it comes to air travel. Streaming actioner Wings of Dread (万米危机, wàn mǐ wēijī) is the latest in this growing genre and once again carries a mildly patriotic message in praising the Chinese air police who are willing to put their lives on the line to ensure passenger safety.

Then again, former cop Chaoyang (Ashton Chen Xiaolong) may feel a little bit inferior after giving up his police career to become an aeroplane security officer in order to spend more time with his girlfriend, air stewardess Dong Lu (Nita), who also gave up her opportunity to work abroad. Dong Lu has evidently had enough of Chaoyang’s grumpy behaviour and moved out their flat, though he is carrying a ring he still hopes to give to her. Rushing to the airport in an attempt to convince her to move back in before her next flight, Chaoyang becomes distracted by a drug user and decides to take down their entire gang first. From a certain point of view, his priorities may be all wrong, though the main problem in the relationship seems to be that Chaoyang expects Dong Lu to be in stewardess mode all the time by being constantly cheerful and treating him like a prince without seeing her as a real person who needs to be able to switch off and relax after a long shift.

This relationship issue is never resolved in a concrete way but only through the action movie trope of Chaoyang’s proving his heroism by saving Dong Lu when the plane they’re both on after he flew to her destination to win her back is hijacked by a criminal gang. One of China’s most wanted has been arrested in a fictional South East Asian nation and is being escorted back to the mainland. Among the passengers, there are both undercover members of the gang planning to break him out and plain-clothes security officers ready to deal with any trouble. Slightly confusingly, the gang have also brought a bomb and are threatening to blow everyone up if the captain doesn’t fly to their chosen destination, which at the very least seems counterproductive and a little bit reckless on behalf of the crooks.

That the bomb got on board along with a lot of 3D printed plastic guns can be attributed to lax security procedures at the airport in the fictitious South East Asian nation, but the point is that this plane is well protected by Chinese air police. Villain Paquet (Iko Uwais) sneers that Chinese police are “pathetic”, which proves quite irritating to Chaoyang who immediately bounces back to win the fight and prove that they are willing to do whatever it takes to ensure passengers reach home safely even at the cost of their own lives. The passengers too are unusually co-operative after being made aware of the bomb threat, giving up their bags to form a barrier and even joining in with the final fight against the bad guys. 

Qin, who is known for his skill in shooting action sequences in confined spaces, does some of his finest work in a fight between a female officer and gang member set entirely within a toilet cubicle, while otherwise making full use of the environment as passengers grab tray tables to attack the hijackers who equally throw opponents over shelving units and smash their heads into arm rests. Casting top international action star Iko Uwais as the villain adds a degree of prestige unusual for a streaming film, though choosing to dub his voice seems like an odd decision, especially as all his dialogue is in English. Nevertheless, the film is impressively put together and largely transcends its streaming origins in scope and ambition despite the looseness of its plot and occasionally awkward attempts at humour. 


Wings of Dread screens 21st August as part of Big Bad Film Fest.

Trailer (no subtitles)

All Wishes Come True! (八仙!, Mu Zhengyang, 2026)

Long ago, a lantern defended humanity from the darkness. But now the lantern has gone missing, and the world is plagued by storms and turmoil. Those who can have fled to the glamorous city of Penglai where the mortal and immortal co-exist and destruction cannot follow. Mu Zhengyang’s animated epic All Wishes Come True! (八仙!, Bāxiān!) draws inspiration from the classic folktale Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea, dramatising it as an Oceans Eleven-esque caper in which a series of scrappy heroes must learn to put aside their greed for the greater good.

The very existence of Penglai is in itself a symptom of the problem. As some point out, the residents aren’t all that interested in finding the lantern because everything is fine in the city. The guardian gods who govern it, Fu Lu Shou, who represent luck, prosperity, and longevity, have become corrupt and are sitting on vast riches embezzled from citizens. Apparent hero Lü Dongbin believes that the lantern is hidden in their vault, but needs help to break in and retrieve it. He recruits local pickpocket Zhongli Quan, whom he believes reshaped the lantern to disguise it, on the promise of allowing him to take as much of the gold as he wants.

It turns out that Zhongli Quan was thrown out of the immortals academy for using an artefact to improve the lives of ordinary people suffering in a famine after prolonged drought. His master reprimands him that the vase is intended to help the elite, not a few peasants. He ironically curses Zhongli Quan that he will always be a thief and a liar, preventing him from living an honest life and forcing him into that of an outlaw. This has, in a way, made him cynical and greedy. The quest to retrieve the lantern presents an opportunity to break the curse and redeem himself, though Zhongli Quan always has half an eye on the gold. Lü Dongbin isn’t completely untainted either with the implication that he is the guardian who sold the lantern in a fit of pique having been passed over for promotion and is now trying to make it right by taking the lantern back. 

As such, the film presents an anti-capitalist, anti-consumerist message along with an ant-corruption sentiment as this team of ordinary mortals attempts to go against the gods by outsmarting Fu Lu Shou to reclaim the lantern and lift and the curse on the wider society. Zhongli Quan’s cynicism is an extension of that which has infected ordinary people who have been encouraged to believe that greed is good. As he and Lü Dongbin forge an uneasy alliance, there is a constant push and pull between them as Lü Dongbin does his best to bring Zhongli Quan back from the dark side by retrieving the lantern. 

The gang ironically attract some attention as apparent “thief catchers” signalling the ways in which people are not always who they claim to be. Nevertheless, they find themselves having to live up to the expectations of being a “hero”, gradually swapping their cynicism for a genuine desire to help those around them. This act of deciding to do the right thing in defiance of the authorities is both quietly subversive and a counter to the greed and selfishness which taken hold across the world along with the elitism that defines life in Penglai. 

At the same time, it’s clear that the gang can only succeed by working together and utilising each of their unique skills in harmony. In the end, they prosper precisely by calling in an unexpected ally who helps them pull off another heist on the villain through misdirection and subterfuge. Like many similar recent animated takes on classic folklore, the film humorously layers the modern world onto the fantasy setting through the swirling cloud highways that surround the city and opening taxi chase along with the magic wristbands that secure entry to Penglai’s VIP area. That the gang are later made immortals precisely so that the authorities can take credit for their actions is another ironic touch, suggesting that they can not really transcend the forces that constrain them. Nevertheless, what remains is the poignant tale of brotherhood and redemption in the relationship between Lü Dongbin and Zhongli Quan that quietly makes plain that in the end we save each other and kindness will always be repaid.


Trailer (Simplified Chinese and English subtitles)

Crossing a Dawn (今晚正好, Zhao Badou, 2026)

“Beijing is Beijing, no need to romanticise it,” according to the practically minded heroine of Zhao Badou’s romantic odyssey, Crossing a Dawn (今晚正好, jīnwǎn zhènghǎo). A little less zany than 2012’s similarly themed Lacuna, the heroes of Zhao’s tale of city serendipity are in their own ways yearning to believe in something beyond urban cynicism with its lack of affordable housing, dissatisfying dating app romance, scammers, and pressure to conform to socially defined notions of success.

In their own ways, Qiu (Ma Sichun) and Yuzhou (Edward Chen) are each displaced people struggling to get a foothold in the city. They spend the entire night wandering around in part because they can’t find anywhere to hook up. For various reasons that only will be disclosed in a final moment of mutual vulnerability, neither than take the other one home while they’re kicked out of a hotel when a receptionist figures out what they were planning on doing there. An attempt to borrow a friend’s apartment is also frustrated, firstly by nosy neighbours and the need to avoid waking her roommate, and then by the friend coming home unexpectedly after catching her boyfriend with another girl. Tinting (Lv Xingchen) hadn’t wanted to move in with him to preserve her own space and independence, only for him to complain it made him feel “insecure”.  

Qiu may seem cynical and materialistic, but in another way she is trying to exert a degree of control by asserting dominance over her dating life. Perhaps bearing out the superficiality of dating app culture, she seems to go for conventionality handsome men but is generally disappointed. This one wants to meet her in a supermarket, for some reason, but turns out to have been using an outdated photo. Qiu feels as if she’s once again been “scammed” by this duplicitous city, though her would be date may have an ironic point about ageism. He complains that he’s done a lot of interesting things in his life and is still the fun-loving and adventurous person he was in his youth, but no one gives him a chance. Qiu is saved from this encounter by Yuzhou, in the supermarket in search of somewhere to return his power bank, though their criticism of him turns out to be somewhat hypocritical given the extent to which both he and Qiu are misrepresenting themselves. After all, as Qiu later reflects, who can resist the temptation to make out their lives are a little more impressive than they really are if it’s just going to be for one night?

It’s clear that Qiu isn’t really looking for anything more than that. Her constant references to making money may seem cynical but also hint at the extent to which money is the only thing that can be relied on in this environment, even if others may try to con it out of you. Her desire to own her own apartment is symbolic of that root herself in this city and carve out a domestic space that’s hers alone. Yuzhou, meanwhile, says he prefers renting because it offers more freedom. In contrast to Qiu’s straightforward practicality, he is more soulful and romantic, countering Qiu’s desire for ownership by suggesting that the place doesn’t matter as long as you get to live with the person you love. 

Qiu may not, however, be quite as cynical as she seems so much as she is afraid to trust in this moment of city serendipity. Beijing beats you down, she says, like the woman still looking for a dog who went missing a year ago driven out of her mind by loneliness and disillusionment. Yuzhou has been here two years, but feels as if he’s achieved less than nothing. Their long walk through the city takes them from walk-up, multiple occupancy apartments to a vast, unoccupied mansion full of unused rooms watched over by one of Qiu’s previous hookups whose name she never found out. He too is experiencing romantic drama with a free-spirited young woman equally afraid to face her feelings. As the night wears on, the pair begin to generate a kind of intimacy that paves the way towards emotional authenticity. Whether this one magical night in the city, or the beginning of something more, they have at least crossed their own kind of dawn, now less guarded and more open to the possibilities of the world around them.


Trailer (Simplified Chinese & English subtitles)

Take Off (飞行家, Pengfei, 2025)

A young man’s dreams of flight are stamped out by a harsh reality only to be rekindled by a looming crisis in Pengfei’s warmhearted drama, Take Off (飞行家, fēixíngyuán). Beginning in the late 1970s and ending with a coda set in the present day, on one level at least the film attempts to chart the course of an ordinary man’s life through the tumultuous years of China’s economic and societal transformation in the late 20th century.

Viewed as something of an eccentric, Li Mingqi (Jiang Qimin), like his father before him, is obsessed with testing parachutes and the idea of breaking the record for the world’s highest jump. During the Cultural Revolution, Mingqi’s father was criticised for conducting unauthorised experiments, refused re-education, and was killed during his final, failed test flight. Mingqi’s fatherlessness and problematic background might explain why he is still an ordinary factory worker despite his obvious talent for engineering and has to conduct his experiments independently and in secret. Nevertheless, when given an ultimatum by his future father-in-law, Mingqi agrees to give up the parachute flights in order to marry his steadfast fiancée Yufeng (Li Xueqin).

In someways, Mingqi’s philosophy might be seen as subversive. He says that flying higher gives you a different perspective that changes the way you think and that by changing your thinking, the world around you also changes. China is already changing around Mingqi who remains more firmly grounded but continues to experiment with jetpacks in secret. Mingqi’s desire for success through his inventions is contrasted with that if Yufeng’s brother Xuguang (Dong Baoshi) who is forever studying to get into university for a better life outside the factory system and their small-town environment. When he’s injured by one of Mingqi’s experiments;, he begins to hold him responsible for his own ruined dreams while Mingqi also gives up his hopes of powered flight and further grounds his expectations. 

But this decision to give up his dreams slowly starts to eat away at him even as the nation begins to move away from the planned economy towards a more capitalistic society. Mingqi and Yufeng open a dance hall as a “public-private” partnership in conjunction with the local factory and using donations from other factory workers who are supportive of their ambitions. Mingqi fills the place with various contraptions such as a novel system of delivering beer by machine, but after his jetpack is ridiculed by visiting foreign tech investors he begins to enter a depressive funk. A few years later the contraptions no longer work. Mingqi has taken to drink and gambling while the business founders as the factories begin to close and workers either leave the area in search of work, like Mingqi succumb to gambling, or simply have no money to spend on entertainment.

Xuguang too eventually returns from Beijing hiding the fact that he has failed in business amid the boom and bust economics of the day. He’s brought with him a “best friend” with whom he seems to have an unusually close, potentially queer coded connection, though Yufeng is right not to trust Dezeng (Dong Zijian) who turns out to be among the breed of amoral capitalists rising in conjunction with the economic reforms. Presumably having failed in someway himself if he’s bothering with this moribund factory town, Dezeng steals the dance hall out from under Mingqi’s feet by exploiting local workers’ desperation and then sells it to open a revolving restaurant at the top of a nearby tower designed for an economic elite which may not yet exist in this area.

The implication seems to be that increasing capitalism has poisoned Mingqi’s idealism, leaving him a broken shadow of a man who no longer has a reason to live now that he’s given up him dreams, but it’s better to live like this than be a man like Dezeng. A family crisis gives him the opportunity to rekindle his dreams by vowing to win a TV competition by jumping from Dezeng’s tower and landing at a spot a few kilometres away in return for a cash prize. Watched live on television, Mingqi’s attempt to fly becomes that of every other disenfranchised worker cast adrift by the 90s reforms as if giving them permission to stand tall and chase their dreams. It would not have been possible, however, without Yufeng’s support. She never wanted him to stop inventing things, just to be a bit more mindful of safety, and is happy to be reunited with the man she married. While the final message may seem contradictory, simultaneously encouraging the idea of dreaming big while emphasising solidarity, it is heartfelt and is clear in its advocation for the liberating power of dreams.  


Take Off screened as part of this year’s New York Asian Film Festival.

Trailer (Simplified Chinese subtitles only)

Ip Man: Kung Fu Legend (宗师叶问2, Li Liming, 2026)

Ip Man returns once again to fight injustice in colonial Hong Kong as a corrupt fixer tries to intimidate the local Martial Arts Society out of its headquarters in order to open a Western-style boxing gym. Ip Man: Kung Fu Legend (宗师叶问2, zōngshī Yè Wèn) is technically a sequel to 2019’s Ip Man: Kung Fu Master, though only in that it is directed by Li Liming and stars Dennis To Yu-Hang in the title role.

This outing for the folklore hero has a little more story to it than most as Ip Man returns to Hong Kong from Foshan to open a martial arts school to find himself a little less than welcome given that interest is martial arts is declining, schools have closed, and the last thing many of those remaining want is more competition. In order to be accepted by the local Martial Arts Society, Ip Man has to pass three trials, though it’s clear the current head, Hong, has begun to veer from the path of righteousness as he deliberately makes things difficult for Ip Man and even tries to cheat before the trial is interrupted by the arrival of the real villain, Pike, a corrupt British businessman valued by the colonial authorities who are dependent on his money to fund their election campaigns. 

Thus the enemies Ip Man is fighting are the forces of imperialism and capitalism as represented by Pike. Realising that they share a common enemy, Hong eventually teams up with Ip Man to defend the dock workers led by Ip Man’s friend Jinsong whose livelihoods are under threat if Pike manages to take over the port. Martial artists and workers are the foundation of the Chinese people, Hong intones while pledging to reject foreign influence in fear that allowing the British in will only lead to a total takeover. His underling, Yihu, meanwhile feels differently and tries to persuade Hong to work with the British believing that he would still be able to maintain management of the Zhonghua building. The fact is that the society is broke and can no longer support its members. Yihu’s mother is seriously ill and needs expensive medical treatment that the society can no longer fund while he also feels resentful and under valued by Hong after being passed over for promotions and generally ignored.

Yihu’s resentment and sense of inferiority make him the perfect target for seduction by Pike after which he undergoes a total personality transformation in becoming a rather flamboyant gangster with a fashionable haircut and sunglasses which generally seem to be used as a symbol of evil within the film. A crazed henchman sent after Ip Man who uses meat hooks as weapons also wears distinctive sunglasses and is driven by greed rather than righteousness. He tells Pike that his initial investment only covers knocking off Ip Man, which he has so far failed to do, and that taking out Yihu once he’s served his purpose is going to cost extra. 

Nevertheless Pike seems to have half the police station under his thumb though we only ever see Chinese officers. Though the first is pragmatic, he also tries to mitigate Pike’s influence while female officer Mei attempts to directly oppose it even while told that Pike is effectively above the law. She is also battling entrenched sexism as her superior advises her going against Pike might be doubly dangerous as there are already those who do not like the idea of women serving in the police force and may use her obstinacy as a reason why they shouldn’t. The martial arts world, by contrast, is depicted as much more egalitarian with the first of the masters Ip Man is asked to fight a woman skilled in unarmed combat. Likewise, when Ip Man eventually opens his school, two little girls excitedly ask to join so that they too can protect their community with their fists if necessary. 

IP Man subversively suggests that one might have to use their fists for justice. But at the same time, there is an awkwardness involved in that Mei and the police force that has resisted corruption become justice’s arbiters at the same time as she commits what might actually be an extrajudicial execution even if in self-defence. Nevertheless, the encroaching forces of capitalist imperialism have been beaten back with Ip Man installed as the leader of the Martial Arts Society. Though the film’s most impressive action scene may be its first as Ip Man faces off against a female master while trying to keep a candle alight, its does its best to live up to the expectations of its name while paying homage to classic fights from the franchise’s history.


Ip Man: Kung Fu Legend is released on Digital, 4K Ultra HD, Blu-ray & DVD July 14 courtesy of Well Go USA.

Trailer (English subtitles)

Dear You (给阿嬷的情书, Lan Hongchun, 2026)

Flat broke and under pressure from a loan shark, Hiou-u (Zheng Runqi) decides there’s only one thing to do. Track down his no-good grandpa who apparently abandoned the family and became rich in Thailand to demand his share of the inheritance. Of course, by the end of the film, he’ll have realised the error of his ways and grown up a little, much like the protagonist of Thai megahit How To Make Millions Before Grandma Dies, by which Lan Hongchun’s tear-jerking melodrama Dear You (给阿嬷的情书, Gěi Āmà de qíngshū) is clearly inspired. It even features Usha Seamkhum in a small role as the older Lamgi at the film’s conclusion. 

Shot almost entirely in Teochew, the film is, in other ways, a tale of distance and diaspora which in some ways suggests that a Chinese citizen never really leaves “China” but continues to exist within it even while abroad. Though most of the film takes place in Thailand, it is largely unconcerned with the political and social situation of the nation in the mid-1950s or with the wider geopolitical realities of the era. Remaining largely within the Teochew community, it does not really explore the complicated position of the Chinese community in Thai society either, preferring to focus on their poverty and rootless as the source of their marginalisation. After eloping with a young woman from a wealthy family, Den Bhagseng (Wang Yantong) is forced to flee leaving his three children behind to avoid being drafted into the KMT during the Chinese Civil War. After arriving in Thailand he is unable to return home firstly because of the difficulty of doing so once the Communist regime gained power, though the film also skirts around this, and secondly because he sends almost of all the money back to his wife Sogriu (Wu Shaoqing) meaning he never manages to save enough for his return passage.

The film largely revolves around the qiaopi remittances, letters sent home to family declaring that the sender was safe and often including money. Aside from the sentimental dimension, these letters also reinforce the diaspora community’s ties to the Mainland and the inclusion of several real letters at the film’s conclusion seems intended to act as a mild suggestion that perhaps those living abroad could also send more of their money home, while the film’s themes of yearning and homesickness also seem primed to encourage those living away to return or at least put in a call to their loved ones before it’s too late.

But on the other hand, the fact that the letters were never written by Bhagseng, as he was largely illiterate, but firstly by a series of scribes and then by a heartbroken Lamgi who pens the heart wrenchingly romantic verses that bring so much comfort to Sogriu adds a note of poignancy while perhaps undercutting their sincerity. That these are, in effect, a series of love letters exchanged between two women, though mediated through the absent figure of a man, leads the film an unexpectedly queer undertone complimenting the accompanying messages of female solidarity. Though Sogriu originally harbours resentment towards Lamgi mistakenly believing her to have been Bhagseng’s mistress, she later gains respect for realising not only all that she did for them but they way in which she continued to honour Bhagseng’s memory.

Once of the reasons that the family had believed Bangseng had become rich was that there were several schools with his name on them, leading them to conclude he had sponsored them in some way. This turns out not to be case, but was rather a kind of tribute to his role within the local community having convinced Lamgi to allow a Chinese school to operate within her inn during a time in which the language was actively suppressed. Bangseng had shouted at her, pointing out that these children will be condemned to a life of poverty and exploitation if they, like him, cannot read and write. He also argues that without knowing how to read, write, and speak Chinese, they will lose their cultural roots and connection with the Mainland. This seems to already be true of Lamgi who did not herself know how to read Chinese and felt disconnected from Chinese culture having grown up in Thailand. After learning with the children at the inn, the necessity of writing the letters also encourages Lamgi to become fully literate. The ability to read and write not only allows her to earn an income as a single woman by running her own business and later becoming a teacher, but also reinforces her Chinese roots and sense of cultural identity. 

While it therefore presents a bittersweet tale of a love lost and then regained when the truth is revealed, the film also subtly issues a message to the diaspora community about the importance of their links to the greater Chinese community and responsibility towards the Mainland. Repeated references are made to the need to support each other in a foreign land with the Teochew community determined to protect each other against an often hostile environment in which they face exploitation and discrimination, while Lamgi’s sense of responsibility toward Sogriu could also be seen the same way as she willingly takes on the need to provide for Bangsen’s family despite her unrequited feelings for him. Nevertheless, what the film offers most is a sense of catharsis in its tear-jerking tale of young lovers separated by forces outside their control and symbolically reunited through the emotional truths contained within the letters.


Trailer (English / Simplified Chinese subtitles)

Operation Hadal (蛟龙行动, Dante Lam Chiu-Yin, 2025)

In recent years, Dante Lam has busied himself with a particular brand of Mainland propaganda actioner. Operation Hadal (蛟龙行动, Jiāolóng Xíngdòng) is intended as a kind of thematic sequel to earlier hits Operation Red Sea and Operation Mekong each of which featured the Chinese military springing into action to defend Chinese citizens from a plausible geopolitical threat while reminding the world at large that China will rise to defend itself and its citizens wherever they may be. 

All of which makes Operation Hadal a rather curious addition to the franchise. Unlike previous instalments, it’s set in the near future and revolves around round a completely ridiculous plot to blow up a volcano and destabilise East Asia with a series of what look to be natural disasters. Or so it would seem, the narrative is often incoherent and difficult to follow. If it were any other Chinese military propaganda film, it would doubtless want to show off the capabilities of the nuclear submarine at the film’s centre. The film even includes a quote from Chairman Mao in 1970 that the nation should hurry up and build nuclear submarines as soon as possible, but it’s not all that clear if this sort of submarine actually exists yet and the qualities the crew are most excited about on boarding the brand-new ship are that it’s much more spacious and comfortable to live in, while the fact that it’s much quieter and, therefore, can evade detection more easily is added as an after thought. 

Meanwhile, Captain Zhao Qing (Zhang Hanyu) is seen to make some questionable command decisions such as playing the harmonica on deck in a moment of crisis which is one thing that seems to have particularly upset the target audience. Zhang clarified that the tune he’s playing is a navy song and is intended as a call to arms for the submarine officers, though it doesn’t really play out that way and feels more like a misplaced homage to the western. Chinese technology is even eclipsed at times with the team finding themselves bogged down fighting robot dogs controlled by the other side, the so-called State of Siekerman, which at any rate seems to populated largely by people with American accents.

There is no clear reason why the State of Siekerman wants to destroy Asia with a series of “mid-sized nuclear bombs”, though there is division within the armed forces with some objecting to the plan because it will necessarily destroy the ecoculture of the area which is beneficial for the rest of the planet, leading to a mutiny by those who are in favour of blowing everything up. This sense of division is perhaps supposed to contrast with the intense unity of Chinese forces, in the same way as the friendship between Zhao Qing and the Admiral back on land is contrasted with that of the two State of Siekerman commanders who disagree about strategy.

The film’s biggest weakness is, however, a lack of characterisation among the Jiaolong team who are often indistinguishable due to the heavy equipment they are wearing. Interpersonal drama comes in the form of a man hung up on the death of a friend in a previous mission and his relationship with his fallen comrade’s son that is probably intended as a touching advocation of filial piety but largely gets lost among the chaotic action. The fact that everything comes down to one officer’s listening ability doesn’t seem like a very good advert for Chinese technology, if perhaps praising the abilities of rank and file soldiers to rise to the occasion. Subpar CGI often gets in the way of the action sequences which are the central draw, leaving the film quite literally all sea with no clear idea of what it’s trying to do. Where the violence of Operation Red Sea was realistic and horrifying, there’s a slightly camp quality with villains being dispatched by hatchets to the head or else popped by sliding doors. It’s not much of an advertisement for Chinese military prowess and never really discovers the sense of patriotic heroism that films like these generally rely on.


Operation Hadal is released on Digital in the US on 16th June courtesy of Well Go USA.

Trailer (English subtitles)蛟龙行动,

The Butcher’s Blade (手遮天, Liu Wenpu, 2026)

Laws are meaningless if no one’s prepared to enforce them. According to the opening titles of The Butcher’s Blade (手遮天, shǒu zhē tiān), the Song had a complicated criminal code with lots of rules to be followed. However, in the real world, they only really apply to certain people. Xue Buyi (Liu Fengchao) has been a constable for 10 years but has become a bitter, broken man who feels himself to be a coward for remaining complicit with this corrupt regime.

A courtesan reports the local coffin maker for rape and violence having slashed her face and thereby not just physically and psychologically harmed her, but destroyed her livelihood. The courtesans complain they’ve reported him before and that no one helps them because they’re not the sort of people who matter in this world. Buyi announces he’ll get them justice and does indeed arrest the coffin maker, but the villagers then turn against him. The coffin maker is well connected and Buyi’s boss lets him go. The courtesans are unsurprised but disappointed, while Buyi’s self-loathing only deepens. His pride and masculinity are further eroded when he tries to help a woman selling noodles that he’s fond of fend off an exploitative landlord who’s been upping the rent in an attempt to coerce her into a sexual relationship. Wei simply asks him for the money instead, but Buyi has nary a penny to his name. Deliberately humiliating him, Wei makes Buyi drink flasks of soy sauce in exchange for reducing Erniang’s (Gao Weiman) debt which Buyi does until Erniang puts a stop to it.

Given all that, it’s easy to see why he might turn to the dark side and allow this world to remake him in its image. The war inside him is between his upbringing as a pupil of Eagle Hall, a brutal police training facility designed to churn out thugs who heartlessly carry out the will of the powers that be, and his natural compassion which baulks at the brutal torture and murder expected of him as a law enforcement official. Buyi is directly contrasted with former colleague Li Zhen (Yuan Fufu) who is keen to get him back on side and working for Eagle Hall, while Buyi struggles with himself over the degree of moral comprise he’s comfortable accepting to be one of Huang’s elite policemen. By remaining complicit, he hopes he can get the money to save Erniang’s noodle stall and protect her from Wei, but she quite obviously can’t stand what Buyi is becoming and didn’t envisage having brutal policemen as her main clientele.

There seems to be a subversive allusion to the present day in the world that surrounds Buyi which is filled with corrupt officials and supported by a rotten regime that policemen like him prop up with thuggish authoritarianism, serving the interests of the powerful over those of the people. Buyi finds himself at the centre of conspiracy when he takes a job guarding government funds intended for disaster relief in the hope of getting extra money to help Erniang only to be accused of robbing the place himself. Recruited by former mentor Huang (Chunyu Shanshan), he witnesses his indifference to the disaster victims who have largely fallen into exploitation at the hands of corrupt landowner Wei. Huang plans to sacrifice them for his own personal gain by framing them as a revolutionary army led by a rival official seeking to overturn the regime which he will then heroically surpress. 

Buyi, however, has to decide whether he can really continue going along with all this or rise up to resist it. Liu Wenpu frames Buyi’s intervention in heroic terms in which he’s surrounded by an eerie blue glow and the sound of firecrackers as he finally decides that he can’t let people like Huang continue with their authoritarianism and indifference towards the welfare of the people. His rebellion, however, seems to make himself something of an outlaw condemned to a life of wandering while ultimately pointless. Huang was just one many and now others are trying to use his fate as a means of advancing their own position. The elegantly choreographed fight scenes take on a symbolic quality as Buyi progresses towards his showdown with Huang while battling himself and his inner conflict, torn between the what it takes to succeed in a world as corrupt as this and his essential humanity before finally coming down on the side of justice for all rather than continuing to serve the interests of an exploitative elite.


The Butcher’s Blade is released on Digital in the US on May 4 courtesy of Well Go USA.

Trailer (English subtitles)

Panda Plan: The Magical Tribe (熊猫计划之部落奇遇记, Derek Hui Wang-Yu, 2026)

Adorable CGI panda Huhu may have been a symbol of Chinese sovereignty in the original Panda Plan, eventually rescued by Jackie Chan and returned to a panda sanctuary on the Mainland. In Panda Plan: The Magical Tribe (熊猫计划之部落奇遇记, xióngmāo jìhuà zhī bùluò qíyù jì), however, which doesn’t actually have much in common with the first film, she’s more like a surrogate child who must be protected, but not to the extent that it stunts her growth or robs of her of the confidence to make her own decisions, after mysteriously entering the territory of a “magical tribe” where children are expected to independent at six and hugs are taboo.

The humour is distinctly old-fashioned and the way the film treats the hidden indigenous community at its centre, which conveniently speaks Mandarin even if its writing system is apparently different, seems insensitive and out-of-touch. Nevertheless, the problem here seems to be emotional austerity and, by extension, an authoritarian parenting style that ironically leaves children in an arrested state of development. Fairly useless princeling Telu (Yu Yang), who goes around wearing a crown, is ridiculed for addressing the chieftain (Ma Li) as “mom”, which might, in any case, be a little childish though reflects his sense of inadequacy and desire for maternal affection. When Huhu and Jackie arrive in this strange world, the panda-worshipping tribe thinks it’s part of a prophecy that says that disaster will prevail after the Great Creature arrives which could turn to prosperity if only they could ward it off. 

This, however, requires Chan and Huhu to scale an impossible mountain so that Huhu can call the gods from an unreachable summit. Some of the tribesmen claim not to like it that an outsider is guiding Huhu to the mountain and use it to cultivate intrigue by convincing Telu to try and win his mother’s favour by killing Chan and leading Huhu to the mountain himself. Chan, meanwhile, is intent on finding a way back to the regular world as soon as possible, only to end up in a strange relationship with his would-be-assassin. Qiangshan (Qiao Shan) seems to have some kind of Tiresias syndrome and changes sex every time he gets hit on the head. The film treats this as a mildly homophobic joke as Qiangsheng begins to act in stereotypically feminine ways while creating a domestic environment for Chan by taking him into his home, cooking and cleaning for him. 

Nevertheless, the later part of the film is concerned with the necessity of moving on from “outdated” rules such as the prohibition on shows of affection. The chieftain makes a show of smashing the stone tablets to make it clear that they’re setting themselves free from past oppressions to lead lives that are more emotionally healthy. Chan gives them some ironic advice about the importance of good parenting that focuses on encouragement and praise that give the chid the confidence to thrive, rather than punishment and discipline that leave them feeling afraid and insecure leading to poor decision making.

This being a Lunar New Year release, it’s not surprising that the focus is family, though the family in question here increasingly seems to point towards the Chinese people as a whole. Only by standing together can we overcome hardship, Chan tells the tribe while eventually coming up with the idea of a human pyramid as an expression of solidarity that helps the nation reach the summit. We must hug each other tightly, he adds, as the tribe arranges itself into a rugby scrum and the lower levels bear the strain, creating the tension that allows others to climb higher. Little Huhu can’t complete the village’s test of climbing a pole with all the strangers prodding her behind and shouting, but eventually does something similar on her own while chasing a butterfly whose name is later said to be “encouragement.”

The giant Wicker Panda in the tribe’s central square might never come into use, but lends an ominous air to this weird place that is originally not very hospitable to Chan but eventually comes to believe he’s some sort of prophet serving their Great Creature and can help them avert the oncoming catastrophe mostly by teaching them that it’s alright to hug it out and there’s nothing embarrassing about telling your family that you love them. Relatively light on action, the film focuses on bizarre comedy while rooting itself in its wholesome-seeming but perhaps self-serving message of the importance of family, solidarity, and encouraging others rather than putting them down as Chan and Huhu do their best to avert disaster and return to their previous lives.


Panda Plan: The Magical Tribe in released in US cinemas on April 17 courtesy of Well Go USA.

Trailer (English subtitles)