Chapter Dive
Dialogues Across Time: Remembering War in a New China
“We are not friends, and have never been,” is a line that went viral recently in light of the heightened focus on war in Chinese media and popular culture.
Published
9 months agoon
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“Comrade, are you from the new China?”
A man in a blood-stained 1940s PLA uniform sits in the grass beside a modern Chinese soldier in full combat gear, staring at him with quiet intensity. When told he is indeed from the “new China,” the old soldier leans closer and asks: “So… did we win?”

“We did,” the soldier replies, reaching for his phone to show China’s victory over Japan. But before he can reveal the proof, the old soldier has already transformed — his body bursting into a cloud of red dust from which dozens of pigeons rise into the sky

This short video was posted on Douyin earlier in August by a creator and ex-serviceman named “Comrade Pang Gangqi” (@彭港琦同志), together with “Combat Team’s A Sheng” (@战斗班阿生), a former firefighter. They are part of a growing nationalist circle of online creators producing videos with military and patriotic themes, often incorporating AI elements to stage imagined encounters where wartime fighters get to see modern-day China.
A recurring motif in these videos is that today’s soldiers “free” the spirits of those who fought in the 1930s and 1940s—either by telling them of China’s victory or by taking up their flag to continue the struggle.
Using AI, they merge past & present, tagging their content with the hashtag “Dialogue with New China Across Time” (跨时空对话新中国) (see some of the videos here).

Although the exact content of the videos vary, the format rarely does: WWII soldiers meet present-day servicemen or ordinary citizens and find release in the knowledge that their sacrifice helped build a prosperous China.

While it is unclear whether some of these creators post entirely independently or with official backing, their videos nonetheless became part of the state propaganda apparatus this month when major outlets — such as People’s Daily and Global Times — reposted them and promoted related hashtags onto Weibo’s hot lists.
One such hashtag, “Netizens Use AI to Talk Across Time and Space with Revolutionary Martyrs” (#网友用AI与先烈跨时空对话#), is just one among dozens of war-related topics dominating Chinese social media over the past two weeks.
This summer, memories of World War II—more specifically, the Second Sino-Japanese War (1937–1945), known in China as the War of Resistance Against Japan (抗日战争)—have occupied a central place in online narratives. Discussion peaked on August 15, the 80th anniversary of Japan’s surrender announcement.
The year’s weight in China’s collective memory is reflected not only in state media narratives but also in popular culture and online discourse.
The last time that the war was so ubiquitous on Chinese social media was probably in 2015, when the 70th anniversary of the end of the World War II in Asia was commemorated with a parade at Tiananmen as the first national, large-scale public commemoration of China’s role in the Second world War (Mitter 2020, 3).
Over the past two weekends, overnight drills for another major Tiananmen Square commemoration of the 80th anniversary of the end of WWII went viral. Spectacular videos of the military parade were widely shared by state media ahead of the official event scheduled for September 3, 2025, the day Japan formally surrendered. Around 22,000 people took part in the initial rehearsal, and the upcoming parade will be livestreamed to millions of viewers.
Further fueling online discussions about wartime history are two major new Chinese blockbusters centered on the Japanese invasion of China.
Although the Second Sino-Japanese War has long played a significant role in Chinese popular culture, it is rare—if not unprecedented—for two major WWII films to see an overlap in theatrical release. Over the past two weeks, both films have trended on Chinese social media, focusing on some of the most gruesome episodes of Japan’s full-scale aggression against China.
Nanjing Photo Studio: Painful Proof of a Massacre
Dead to Rights (official English title) or Nanjing Photo Studio (南京照相馆) revolves around the Nanjing Atrocities, commonly referred to in China as the Nanjing Massacre (南京大屠杀, Nánjīng Dàtúshā).
On December 13, 1937, after weeks of intense fighting in Shanghai, Japanese troops invaded Nanjing, then China’s capital, and over several weeks unleashed unprecedented violence: massacring civilians, including children and the elderly, raping women, looting, and burning the city. During those winter weeks of 1937–1938, an estimated 300,000 Chinese people were killed.
Nanjing Photo Studio, directed by Shen Ao (沈嚣), follows a group of young Chinese civilians and soldiers who seek refuge in a photography studio during the Japanese invasion and brutal occupation of Nanjing.
The story centers on Ah Chang, a postman (played by Liu Haoran 刘昊然) who assumes the role of a photo developer for the Japanese army to survive. When a Japanese military photographer requests him to develop film, Ah Chang and the others uncover the horrific atrocities happening beyond the studio walls, capturing war crimes through their own darkroom.

Dead to Rights/Nanjing Photo Studio Film promotion material
Although the photo studio storyline is fictional, the film is inspired by the real story of a Nanjing teenager named Luo Jin (罗瑾), who was only 15 or 16 years old in 1937–1938.
At the time, he worked as a clerk at the Huadong Photo Studio when a Japanese officer brought in two rolls of film for development. As Luo processed them, he discovered shocking images of Japanese soldiers looting and killing Chinese civilians. Luo secretly made a duplicate set of the atrocity photos and preserved them in a small booklet, which remained hidden until the end of the war. These photographs later served as “Evidence No. 1” (京字第一号证据) at the Nanjing Tribunal (Berry 2011, 117).
Dead to Rights premiered in late July, and this week it was announced that its theatrical run would be extended until September 24 (#南京照相馆密钥延期#). The film currently holds an 8.7 rating on Douban, where many commenters not only praise the production but also express strong anti-Japanese sentiments.
Dead to Rights is by no means the first film centered on the Nanjing atrocities. The first major feature film about the Nanjing Massacre was released in 1987: Massacre in Nanjing (屠城血证), directed by Luo Guanqun (罗冠群). That film also included a subplot about a photo studio owner who secretly developed photographs of atrocities and ultimately sacrificed his life to smuggle the evidence out.
As Michael Berry has noted in his discussion of the film, much of the Chinese discourse on the Nanjing atrocities has revolved around the need to “prove” that the massacre actually happened. Evidence—particularly photographs—plays a central role because since the 1970s, Japanese revisionists have actively disputed or outright denied what occurred in Nanjing.
Some deny the death toll of 300,000, claiming that as few as 10,000 perished, while others argue the entire event was fabricated. The emphasis on death tolls, photographs, and “evidence” has thus become a persistent thread in Chinese narratives about Nanjing, aimed simultaneously at domestic audiences, Japanese revisionists, and the international community.
Regarding the 1987 film, Berry wrote in 2011:
📰✍️ “The true tragedy of the film is that just as the characters struggle to prove that the massacre actually happened, so Massacre in Nanjing (..) is still struggling with the same issues—only now the film itself replaces the photographs as the chosen vehicle.”
This observation remains strikingly relevant for a movie made nearly forty years later, as so much discussion of the atrocities still focuses on the evidence—above all, the photographs—and how they were preserved to show the world the unimaginable violence and destruction that occurred in Nanjing.
Never Forget “731”
The second film fueling online discussion this month is 731 (七三一), directed by Zhao Linshan (赵林山), which focuses on the atrocities committed by Japan’s biological warfare Unit 731.
The film has already had a lot of online buzz and some anger over its original preview date of July 31st being postponed (delayed due to failure to obtain official approval, allegedly due to some gruesome scenes); but it is now officially scheduled for nationwide release on September 18.
That premiere date of September 18 carries great symbolic significance, as it marks the 94th anniversary of the Mukden Incident in 1931. That event—an explosion that damaged a section of Japanese railway—triggered Japan’s invasion of Manchuria and, rather than July 7, 1937, is regarded by many Chinese historians and officials as the true starting point of the Second Sino-Japanese War, making it a 14-year battle that merged into World War II after Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941.
Japan’s bacteriological activities that are at the center of this story are a particularly grim part of the Second Sino-Japanese War. The Japanese had a number of military units specialized in biological weapon research, of which Unit 731, based in Harbin, was the most notorious.
Established in 1936, the unit consisted of 150 different buildings and a staff of 3,000 that conducted research using both animals and imprisoned human subjects.
It is estimated that around 10,000 people in China and Manchuria died in these experiments. Apart from the research conducted in the units, the Japanese were also involved in ‘field tests’ that included large-scale contamination of water and food supplies. There were outbreaks of plague, cholera, and typhus due to aerial spraying and the dropping of bombs that consisted of infected fleas (Klietmann & Ruoff 2001; Koetse 2012).

Two film posters for 731, one announcing the original release date and the other the new release date (September 18).
The 731 movie, produced by Changchun Film Group in collaboration with the Propaganda Departments of Shandong, Jilin, Heilongjiang, and Harbin, will focus on ordinary people becoming victims of the Unit 731 experiments, and carries a strong message on its poster: “Never forget” (绝不遗忘).
Similarly, some of the film posters for Dead to Rights show a big slogan saying: “Remember history, never forget national humiliation” (铭记历史 勿忘国耻).
“We Are Not Friends”
Emotional AI videos, WWII blockbusters, and spectacular rehearsals for an unprecedented victory parade — what to make of this summer’s national remembrance of the Second Sino-Japanese War?
There are a few things I’ve noted while following the media campaigns and online responses to WWII discussions on Chinese social media these weeks.
🔹 War memory as nationalism. The memory of war, as an important part of popular culture, is being used as a vehicle for China’s new nationalism. This is not unique to China — it can also be seen in other countries, most famously in the US. But the focal points of remembrance shift with the times, as do the main messages surrounding these narratives. Right now, it is increasingly clear that painful war memories are being tied to positive messages about China’s bright future and its role as a great power, moving the emphasis from collective suffering to collective victory.
🔹 From national to transnational memory. There is an increasing emphasis on “letting the world know” (让全世界知道那段历史真相) about the Second Sino-Japanese War, especially gruesome chapters such as the Nanjing Atrocities and Unit 731. This reflects frustration that, in the West, the Sino-Japanese War is often taught as “China’s war with Japan” rather than part of the global conflict. As China’s international role grows, so does the drive to reframe these memories as part of world history.
🔹 From memory to justice. Hand in hand with the focus on collective suffering, victory, and China’s role in the Second World War, there is also a strong emphasis on past injustices and future justice. These narratives are closely tied to Japan’s official handling of the postwar era, as well as the ongoing denialism and revisionism among Japanese right-wing politicians and netizens.
Playing into all of these elements — nationalism, transnational memories of the Sino-Japanese War, and the search for justice — is actually a third Chinese WWII movie this summer titled Dongji Island (东极岛).
Dongji Island premiered in cinemas on August 8 and is based on the 1942 Lisbon Maru Incident. The Lisbon Maru was a Japanese cargo ship carrying — in terrible conditions — 1,816 British POWs from Hong Kong to Japan for forced labor. En route, the ship was torpedoed by a US submarine near the waters of Dongji Island, Zhejiang.
As the vessel slowly sank, the Japanese left the ship but sealed the prisoners inside the holds to die. Even those who managed to escape and jump into the sea came under Japanese gunfire. Despite this, Zhoushan fishermen risked their lives in small boats to rescue about 384 British prisoners of war. In total, 828 POWs died.

Chinese and international film poster of Dongji Island.
In a recent interview, the film’s director Fei Zhenxiang (费振翔) said: “Some Japanese even claim that it was they who rescued the British soldiers. History should be verified, so that the whole world knows the truth!”
China’s current heightened focus on the Second Sino-Japanese War right now is not exactly improving Sino-Japanese relations.
“We are not friends, and have never been” (我们不是朋友,一直都不是) is a line delivered by Liu Haoran in Nanjing Photo Studio while speaking to his Japanese enemy (in Japanese: 私たちは友達じゃない,絶対に).
The line has since gone viral, taken up by countless netizens who use it not just as a reckoning with history but also as a nationalist slogan and an expression of anti-Japanese sentiment.
It is clear that while China’s past is increasingly being remembered by bringing past fighters and present-day citizens together through the power of cinema and AI, and grand parades, the distance between Chinese and Japanese only seems to grow.
As long as the ways the war is remembered remains worlds apart, history will never bring them closer.
– By Manya Koetse
References:
Berry, Michael. 2011. “A History of Pain: Trauma in Modern Chinese Literature and Film.” United Kingdom: Columbia University Press.
Klietmann, Wolfgang F. and Kathryn L. Ruoff. 2001. “Bioterrorism: Implications for the Clinical Microbiologist.” American Society for Microbiology 14(2): 364–381.
Koetse, Manya. 2012. The ‘Magic’ of Memory – Chinese and Japanese Re-Remembrances of the Sino-Japanese War (1937-1945). Mphil Thesis, Leiden University.
Mitter, Rana. 2020. “China;s Good War: How World War II is Shaping a New Nationalism. Cambridge, Massachusetts: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press.
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Manya Koetse is a sinologist, writer, and public speaker specializing in China’s social trends, digital culture, and online media ecosystems. She founded What’s on Weibo in 2013 and now runs the Eye on Digital China newsletter. Learn more at manyakoetse.com or follow her on X, Instagram, or LinkedIn.
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Chapter Dive
My Mum Has Two Husbands: The OPPO Mother’s Day Fiasco and 7 Other Gender Marketing Fails in China
Inside OPPO’s Mother’s Day PR fiasco and other failed marketing campaigns in China’s gender minefield
Published
23 hours agoon
May 12, 2026
The backlash to OPPO’s Mother’s Day ad came from multiple directions, from grassroots netizens to official organizations. Here’s a closer look at the controversy, along with 7 other cases that show how gender-related marketing has become a recurring minefield for brands in China.
Mother’s Day is over, but OPPO is still recovering. The Chinese smartphone brand went viral over the weekend for a Mother’s Day marketing campaign that failed spectacularly. In the campaign, OPPO used the slogan: “My mom has two ‘husbands.’”
The accompanying text read:
“My mom has two ‘husbands.’ One is my dad, and the other one she sees twice a year. She barely dresses up for dates with my dad, but when she sees the other one, she’d wear a wedding dress if she could.” (“我妈有两个‘老公’,一个是我爸,另一个一年见两回。跟我爸约会基本不打扮,见另一个,她恨不得穿婚纱。”)

The OPPO ad was published online on May 8, 2026.
With this ad, OPPO was likely trying to tap into digital culture and resonate with younger consumers by using online slang.
In Chinese fandom subcultures, female fans sometimes refer to their idols as their “husband” (老公, lǎogōng) to express their devotion. It is part of a broader online joke, with some fans even incorporating life-size cardboard cutouts of their favorite celebrities into their weddings.

The phrase “real husband” (真老公) gained wider mainstream attention in late 2025 after a young Chinese bride unexpectedly ran into rapper and singer Jackson Wang on her wedding day and posted:
💬 “Who understands this? I met my real husband on my wedding day!” (“谁懂啊!婚礼当天遇到了真老公!!”)

The ‘real husband’ post that went viral in late 2025 and early 2026.
Although some commenters found it funny, the bride was heavily criticized for publicly calling a celebrity her “real husband” on her wedding day, using the same word (老公) that refers to her literal spouse, as if she were placing her idol above her actual groom.
💬 “This makes it seem as though she does not truly regard the man she is legally marrying as her husband at all,” one among many commenters wrote.
While OPPO was probably aiming for a tongue-in-cheek campaign featuring an energetic and youthful mother who adores her idol, the company appears to have badly misread the room.
After the ad was posted on Weibo and other social media channels ahead of Mother’s Day, backlash quickly followed.
Many netizens were confused and did not understand the reference to fan culture. Some said they were simply “baffled” by what they saw as an inappropriate message suggesting that mom was cheating—and on Mother’s Day, no less!
💬 “Without reading the comments, I thought the ad was saying the mother was cheating and didn’t love her husband, but had a side lover she was crazy about,” one Xiaohongshu commenter wrote.
Others asked whether the creators would have been willing to run a similar Father’s Day campaign with the line: “My dad has two wives.”
Fan culture remains far removed from the everyday experience of many ordinary Chinese netizens, creating not just a gender divide but also a generational and social one.
Even when people understand that an “idol husband” is purely fictional, the term 老公 (lǎogōng) still carries the literal meaning of “husband” and implies emotional devotion to someone outside the marriage. For some, that feels disrespectful.
Many also questioned the contrast at the heart of the campaign: why does mum barely dress up for dates with her husband, yet would supposedly wear a wedding dress to see a celebrity?
Others believe celebrity fandom in China has already gone too far, and felt that using this language in a mainstream advertising campaign was especially misplaced.
As one marketing commentator on Xiaohongshu Cathy聊品牌热点) put it, OPPO had managed to offend almost every relevant audience: male consumers who saw the ad as disrespectful to husbands, fandom communities who did not want their inside jokes dragged into mainstream advertising, women who support gender equality, and many others who hold strong views about traditional family values.
Emotional Infidelity as a Form of Female Self-Expression
The brand quickly took the campaign offline and apologized. But in their initial apology post, OPPO explained that it had merely intended to challenge gender stereotypes and present a “more diverse and multi-dimensional image of today’s mothers,” women who can enjoy celebrity fandoms and pursue hobbies beyond their roles as wives and mothers.
OPPO’s first apology: “Our original intention was to break stereotypes and present a more diverse and multi-dimensional image of today’s mothers.”
That explanation sparked another wave of criticism, with many arguing that OPPO had completely missed the point. Few people objected to the idea that mothers can have celebrity idols or personal passions. What many found problematic was the suggestion of romantic involvement outside the marriage.
One Weibo commenter (@甲申鬼友), who called the entire episode a “PR disaster”, suggested that the problem was that OPPO framed emotional infidelity as a form of female self-expression.
They wrote:
💬 “The controversial slogan “My mom has two husbands” was not about challenging stereotypes about mothers. Instead, it glorified the tacky behavior of a married woman calling a celebrity “husband” and wanting to wear a wedding dress to see him, presenting it as a form of female self-expression. Implicitly, it suggested that a real husband should unconditionally accept his wife’s “emotional infidelity.” (…). The message conveyed by the campaign was clear enough: it alienated men and mothers who still value loyalty and commitment in relationships.”
It soon became clear that OPPO’s handling of the issue was turning into a bigger problem than the ad itself.
As netizens continued to criticize the campaign, the controversy was amplified by blogs, mainstream media, and state-affiliated organizations.
The China Advertising Association (CAA), the country’s leading advertising body operating under state supervision, weighed in, along with the All-China Women’s Federation (ACWF), China’s main state-linked women’s organization.
Both organizations echoed familiar Party messaging, criticizing marketing that crosses the boundaries of public morality, deviates from core socialist values, violates traditional family ethics, or “misleads the public, especially young people, about social values.”
As the controversy escalated, attention also turned to OPPO’s China region brand strategy director, Yu Siyue (余思月), a graduate of Wuhan University’s School of Chinese Language and Literature.
The university itself then entered the discussion by posting a statement on Weibo saying it was “shocked” by the campaign. It said it “strongly disagrees with the content (..) and the values conveyed,” distancing itself from both the campaign and its alumna. (In a detail I found unintentionally amusing, the statement also noted that Yu had once been praised for helping an elderly passenger on a bus.)
Wuhan University itself was also criticized for inserting itself into a controversy that had little to do with the university. Chinese media outlet Yicai asked: “Who forced Wuhan University into this disastrous move?” Even political commentator Hu Xijin called the statement an overreaction and a sign of “public opinion anxiety syndrome” (舆情焦虑症).
In the end, OPPO apologizedc a second time on Monday, this time stating that both the campaign and its initial response reflected serious shortcomings in the company’s values and judgment. The company said it had lost sight of “upholding the boundaries of China’s core socialist values.”
OPPO said the incident had led to disciplinary measures against those responsible, and the company promised it would ensure that future campaigns better align with “mainstream values.”
Lessons to Be Learned
There are a few things to be learned from OPPO’s PR nightmare:
🔍 1. Marketing fails are often about the response
Once a marketing controversy breaks out, the company’s response often matters more than the original mistake. If the response fails to address the actual criticism, the fallout can become much worse than the initial problem.
🔍 2. In China, PR controversies quickly become political issues
In China, public relations is inherently political. What begins as criticism from netizens can quickly be amplified by state media and official organizations. In the process, a relatively minor marketing controversy can be reframed as a broader debate about morality and family values. Once that happens, the issue is no longer just about a poorly judged advertisement but becomes a tool for boosting official narratives and reinforcing broader Party priorities.
🔍 3. In China’s cancel culture, everyone rushes to distance themselves
Chinese online backlash can be intense and unforgiving. Once a controversy takes off, everyone rushes to distance themselves from it. The fact that OPPO’s brand director became a target, and that even Wuhan University felt compelled to issue a public statement, illustrates this dynamic. At the same time, such overreactions can backfire, especially when an organization emphasizes that it is “not involved” by publicly engaging in the controversy. Sometimes, silence really is golden.
🔍 4. Gender-related marketing in China is a minefield
This episode is another reminder of how difficult it can be for brands to engage with gender-related themes in China. Companies eager to appear youthful and relatable may underestimate just how sensitive these issues are, and how quickly a seemingly playful campaign can turn into a major controversy.
Not Just OPPO: When Gender-Related Marketing Goes Wrong
OPPO is far from alone.
In recent years, language, jokes, and messaging related to gender, feminism, and male-female relationships have become some of the most sensitive issues in Chinese advertising.
In a rapidly changing China, gender roles are evolving, identities are shifting, and ideas about what is considered feminine or masculine are increasingly contested.
Expectations around what female consumers want and what male consumers value are also in flux. Younger and older generations, and especially male and female netizens, often disagree about what is socially acceptable amid women’s growing assertiveness, persistent patriarchal attitudes, and changing global trends.
For advertisers and creative directors, this creates a particularly difficult environment. Brands are trying to tap into consumers’ purchasing power and keep up with shifting social norms, while also staying within the bounds of official values and political priorities. As a result, it is easy to misread the mood and miss the mark.
Campaigns can inadvertently reinforce traditional gender hierarchies, sexualize women, portray men in ways that spark backlash, or rely on outdated stereotypes.
And, as the OPPO case shows, even campaigns that genuinely aim to challenge stereotypes can end up provoking criticism instead.
Below are seven other examples of brand campaigns in China that backfired over the past decade.
💥 #1 Blue Moon: Mother’s Day Marketing Backfires
Marketing campaign (2024): “Let Mom Do the Laundry More Easily”
Main problem: Reinforcing outdated gender stereotypes

China’s household cleaning giant Blue Moon (蓝月亮) also found itself at the center of a marketing controversy after a 2024 Mother’s Day elevator ad campaign promoting its premium laundry detergent with the slogans “Let mom do the laundry more easily” (“让妈妈洗衣更轻松”) and “Mom, you use it first” (“妈妈您先用”).
Many users objected to the message, arguing that it portrayed doing laundry as something that naturally belongs to mothers and reinforced traditional gender stereotypes. As part of a Mother’s Day campaign, critics said the messaging was particularly inappropriate.
As in OPPO’s case, Blue Moon’s crisis management made matters worse. The company’s initial response suggested the controversy was merely a “misunderstanding” and said the campaign was intended to express gratitude to mothers. Many netizens disagreed, arguing that Mother’s Day and mothers doing the laundry had nothing to do with each other.
💥 #2 Fuyanjie: “Too Dark and Stinky”
Marketing campaign (2022): “83% of men are unwilling to go down on their partner because it’s too dark and stinky”
Main problem: Straightforwardly sexist

In 2022, the well-known Chinese feminine hygiene brand Fuyanjie (妇炎洁) promoted a pink-colored intimate wash by claiming that “surveys show that 83% of men from South Korea, Japan, and China are unwilling to go down on their partner because it’s too dark and stinky” (“中日韩三国社会调查显示:83%的男性不愿意给伴侣口爱的原因竟然是太黑太难闻下不去嘴”).
Besides promising to make the genital area pinker, the campaign also suggested that hyperpigmentation could be caused by wearing tight pants and having too much sex.
The brand drew widespread criticism for being vulgar, insulting to women, and completely unscientific. Some netizens suggested that the ad makers should focus on turning their own penises pink instead.
Fuyanjie apologized and took both the campaign and the product offline.
(Remarkably, this was the brand’s second major controversy. In 2016, one of its intimate wash products carried the slogan: “I can’t wash away your past, but I can wash your future clean” (“我不能洗掉你的过去,但我能洗干净你的未来”), a line widely criticized as slut-shaming.)
💥 #3 Coconut Palm: Big Boobs, Short Skirts, and a Marketing Strategy Built on Controversy
Marketing campaign (2022): Busty women in tight tops and shorts dancing on livestream
Main problem: Objectification of women & crossing official lines

During China’s National Day holiday in the 2022 Covid & livestream year, Chinese coconut drink brand Coconut Palm (椰树椰汁) found itself at the center of controversy over a series of promotional streams on Douyin.
The company had already been fined twice by authorities for advertisements and packaging suggesting that drinking Coconut Palm could promote breast enlargement.
The 2022 livestreams featured several attractive, busty women in tight tops and short shorts dancing in front of the camera. The broadcasts drew even more attention when they were repeatedly interrupted and cut off by the platform.
There was little new about the campaign. Coconut Palm’s marketing has revolved around voluptuous women and sexually suggestive slogans for more than 25 years.
One of the company’s most famous slogans was “I’ve been drinking it since I was little” (“我从小喝到大”). While literally meaning “I’ve been drinking it since childhood,” the phrase can also be interpreted as “I grew big [breasts] by drinking it.”
The livestreams reignited debate on Chinese social media about the objectification of women in advertising and online culture. Coconut Palm is the only example on this list where controversy appears to be a core part of the brand’s marketing strategy. And while regulators have repeatedly taken issue with its approach, many consumers seem to appreciate the brand precisely for its refusal to change.
💥 #4 Ubras: “Underwear That Helps Women Win in the Workplace”
 
Marketing campaign (2021): Underwear so comfortable that it can “help women lie down and win in the workplace”
Main problem: Sexist and offensive

Popular talk show host and comedian Li Dan (李诞) sparked controversy on Chinese social media in 2021 over a promotional slogan for the Chinese women’s underwear brand Ubras. Their slogan (“让女性轻松躺赢职场”) can be loosely translated as “make it easy for women to win in the workplace lying down.”
The phrase was widely interpreted as suggesting that women could use their bodies or sexuality to gain an advantage at work. According to the brand, the intended message was simply that Ubras bras are so comfortable that women could “lie down and win.” The full slogan was: “一个让女性躺赢职场的装备” — “equipment that helps women lie down and win in the workplace.”
Many people felt it was inappropriate not only for a male celebrity to promote women’s underwear, but also for the campaign to draw a connection between lingerie and workplace success.
Ubras and Li Dan both apologized for the “inappropriate wording,” and all related promotional content was removed.
💥 #5 Intel: When a Brand Ambassador Becomes the Controversy
 
Marketing campaign (2021): “Intel’s standards are even higher than mine when choosing a partner”
Main problem: Caught in China’s gender wars

Tech company Intel sparked controversy in 2021 by appointing Chinese comedian Yang Li (杨笠) as a brand ambassador in China. Yang Li had become a polarizing figure because of her jokes about men, including her famous line: “Men are adorable, but mysterious. After all, they can look so average and yet be so full of confidence.”
In Intel’s campaign, Yang said: “Intel’s standards are so high — even higher than mine when choosing a partner.” (“英特尔的眼光太高了,比我挑对象的眼光都高。”)
The line itself was relatively harmless. What triggered the backlash was Yang’s public persona.
Some male netizens accused Yang of being sexist and argued that Intel, a company selling laptops and computer chips, should not be represented by a comedian known for mocking men — especially when men were seen as a key target audience.
Intel subsequently deleted the advertisement from its social media channels and ended its collaboration with Yang Li.
That decision, however, sparked a second wave of criticism. Many female netizens accused Intel of caving to online pressure and asked what had happened to the company’s commitment to diversity and inclusion. Others mocked Intel for changing its marketing strategy to appease China’s “ordinary yet confident” men.
💥 #6 Juewei Duck Neck: “Tender, Juicy — Want Some?”
 
Marketing campaign (2017): Sexually suggestive Singles’ Day poster
Main problem: Vulgar and objectifying

Ahead of the 2017 Singles’ Day shopping festival, Chinese snack chain Juewei Duck Neck (绝味鸭脖), one of China’s largest duck neck and marinated meat brands, published a promotional poster on its Tmall store showing a cartoon woman in short shorts lying on a bed with chains around her ankles and her legs spread apart, with one of the company’s products placed in front of her.
The slogan read: “Tender, juicy — want some?” (“鲜嫩多汁,想要吗”). The sexually suggestive image triggered immediate controversy and widespread criticism.
Juewei Duck Neck later issued a nationwide apology, and both the company and the advertising agency responsible for the campaign were fined 600,000 yuan (approximately US$88,000) each.
💥 #7 IKEA: “If You Don’t Bring Back a Boyfriend, Don’t Call Me Mom”
Marketing campaign (2017): Turning parental pressure to marry into a lifestyle ad Main problem: Reinforcing social pressure on unmarried women

A 30-second IKEA commercial sparked controversy in China in 2017 for portraying parental pressure on an unmarried daughter to find a boyfriend.
In the ad, a mother tells her daughter at the dinner table: “If you don’t bring back a boyfriend next time, then don’t call me Mom.” (“再不带男朋友回来,就别叫我妈,”)
The doorbell then rings, and a young man holding flowers appears. The parents immediately brighten, make the living room more welcoming, and set out IKEA tableware for a celebratory meal. The tagline reads: “Celebrate everyday life easily” (“轻松庆祝每一天”).
The ad drew widespread criticism, especially because it aired at a time when many women in China were pushing back against intense social pressure to marry by a certain age. Critics argued that IKEA was trivializing this while reinforcing outdated expectations about marriage and filial duty.
IKEA apologized and removed the commercial.\
Eye on Digital China, by Manya Koetse, is co-published on Substack and What’s on Weibo. Both feature the same new content — so you can read and subscribe wherever you prefer. Substack offers community features, while What’s on Weibo provides full archive access.
Chapter Dive
Beyond the “Ching Chong” Controversy: The “Pocket Asian” in The Devil Wears Prada 2
How a niche online debate was amplified into a global “racism” story, and why the real discussion runs deeper
Published
2 weeks agoon
April 26, 2026
The Devil Wears Prada 2 is one of the major blockbusters of China’s popular May Day movie season. However, among Chinese audiences, discussions surrounding the Hollywood film have shifted from “Runway” to “racism”. What’s behind the controversy?
It’s almost the May Day holiday, and seventeen films are lined up for one of the most important box office moments of the year in China. One of them, the only major Hollywood film, is the American movie The Devil Wears Prada 2, the long-awaited sequel to the 2006 blockbuster starring Anne Hathaway and Meryl Streep.
Both actresses visited Shanghai for the film’s China premiere earlier this month, where attendees were shown the first 20 minutes. Early reactions were positive, online fans were enthusiastic, and all signs pointed to a strong box office run.
But that seemed to change this week as the film began facing online backlash. Reports emerged describing it as “racist” and “offensive” in China, focusing on the role played by Chinese American actress Helen J. Shen—namely, the new geeky office assistant, ‘Jin Chao.’
By now, the story of the film drawing “furious reactions” or even “facing a boycott” in China has been picked up by dozens of global media outlets, from The Guardian to the Global Times.

Collection of headlines about the backlash
But how big is the controversy, really?
Let’s first look at the story behind these headlines before diving into the bigger context.
From Niche Discussion to Global “Backlash”
Media reports about The Devil Wears Prada 2 facing backlash in China began circulating around April 17–18, when a promotional clip of the film was officially released, introducing the Asian or Chinese American assistant to Anne Hathaway’s character Andy.

In the clip, the petite and somewhat socially awkward young woman introduces herself as ‘Jin Chao’ and lists her academic credentials, including graduating from Yale with a high grade point average.
One of the earliest reports claiming there was major backlash came from entertainment blogger Mengshen Mumu (萌神木木), published on QQ News on April 18 under the headline: “The Devil Wears Prada 2 embroiled in anti-China controversy! Asian character portrayed stereotypically, name seen as deliberately offensive.”1
China.com republished the same blog under the title “The Devil Wears Prada 2 Asian controversy: stereotypical portrayal sparks public outrage.”2
The article claimed the movie was sparking backlash and calls for a boycott among “netizens” (网友), focusing on the character’s nerdy portrayal and her name, rendered as “Qin Chao” or “Qin Zhou” (秦舟). According to the author, its English pronunciation closely resembled “Ching Chong,” a historically racist term used to mock Chinese people.
It concludes: “At present, the film’s reputation appears to be on shaky ground, and its box office prospects in China may not be promising.”
Notably, the only evidence cited for this supposedly widespread backlash consists of a few screenshots of comments made by Douban users in a discussion group about the film.
That discussion—now private and inaccessible—appears to have been the basis not only for this article, but also for many of the Chinese, Korean, and international reports that followed, as they all trace back to the same China.com source.
This context matters. It suggests that the “backlash” was less organic than portrayed, and that media amplification played a significant role in turning a niche discussion—one that did not trend on major platforms like Weibo—into a narrative of nationwide outrage. That narrative was then picked up by international media and presented as the mainstream view of Chinese audiences.
Earlier, the same source published another article hyping a separate controversy surrounding The Devil Wears Prada 2, this time involving a pair of embroidered shoes gifted to the cast at the Seoul premiere. The piece suggested the design was traditionally Chinese and should not be labeled as Korean, accusing Korea of cultural appropriation. Although this gift had nothing to do with the movie itself, it was dragged into the film’s potential box-office success, creating a storm in a teacup because controversial topics do well in terms of clicks.
Beyond the media’s role in fueling the current “Ching Chong” storm, there are other factors that help explain why this issue remained relatively limited before being amplified.
👉 The name itself is not necessarily offensive.
There is considerable confusion over the character’s name, which plays a key role in the controversy due to its alleged discriminatory connotations.
The Chinese subtitles render the name as Qin Zhou (秦舟), while in the scene it sounds more like ‘Jin Zhao,’ and the role is listed on IMDb as ‘Jin Chao.’ Others have suggested it sounds like ‘Chin Chou,’ which could resemble “Ching Chong.”
One of Weibo’s most influential movie-related accounts (@格兰芬多公共休息室) addressed the issue on April 19 by directly contacting the film’s translation team. According to their report, the correct name is ‘Jin Zhao,’ and the rendering as Qin Zhou (秦舟) appears to be a translation error.
In Chinese naming conventions, the family name comes first, meaning ‘Jin Zhao’ would be written as Zhao Jin (赵瑾)—a fairly standard and unremarkable name.
👉 Many Chinese would not immediately link this name to an offensive slur.
Not only is the character not actually named “ching chong,” the term itself originates as a mocking imitation of Chinese languages within an English-speaking context.
Although in today’s global media environment, many Chinese audiences are aware of the term, it is primarily understood as a form of English-language racism directed at Chinese-speaking people by outsiders, not as something rooted within Chinese linguistic or cultural contexts.
Interestingly, while English-language media reports suggest Chinese audiences are outraged, some Chinese commentators argue that much of the anger is actually coming from Korean and other international internet users. Chinese outlet Guancha even reported—in a now-deleted post—that the controversy itself was largely driven from outside China.
All of this has led to a situation where, despite a week of headlines describing “waves of netizen anger” and “boycotts sweeping the internet,” the “Ching Chong controversy” itself has not, at the time of writing, generated widespread outrage across Chinese social media platforms. Many related posts have received minimal engagement.
Although many viewers agree that the screenwriters might have chosen a more flattering name than Jin Chao or Jin Zhao, there is little to suggest this was deliberately intended as offensive, nor that it was widely interpreted as such by Chinese audiences.
The “Pocket Asian” Problem
However, this initial controversy has prompted many Chinese commenters to look beyond the name and focus on what they see as the real issue with Jin Zhao’s character. In the run-up to the film’s release, these discussions have been gaining traction online.
One Weibo commenter wrote:
💬 “Even if ‘Jin Chao’ and ‘Ching Chong’ don’t sound exactly the same, this Asian character’s portrayal really couldn’t be more outdated… it feels like the director has never seen what real Asian interns in the fashion industry are actually like.”

Another post asking users how they felt about the controversy received thousands of likes, with many commenters expressing disappointment over how the film’s most visible Asian character is portrayed.
This criticism seems to be widely shared. In a fashion-focused film, Jin Zhao stands out as the least fashionable—wearing a plaid shirt and skirt, hair pinned up, thick glasses—making her appear almost like a caricature among the surrounding “urban sophisticates.” For many viewers, this feels like a familiar stereotype that does not reflect the reality of today’s trendy Gen Z city girls.
A recurring sentiment is that while Hollywood—and companies like Disney, the film’s distributor—relies heavily on the Chinese market, Chinese audiences themselves feel they are not being taken seriously.
On April 22, Weibo author Jokielicious published a post (now with over 9,600 likes, 257 comments, and 773 shares) explaining the concept of the “Pocket Asian” (口袋亚洲人), an online slang term that has circulated for some time.
It refers to a type of physically small, non-threatening Asian character often seen on Western social media, where people jokingly describe Asian friends as “small enough to fit in your pocket.”
According to the author, this “Pocket Asian” is also a recurring figure in Hollywood films: typically subordinate to the white protagonist, often cast as an assistant or sidekick, embodying familiar stereotypes—comically awkward, unobtrusive, and non-threatening.
Although The Devil Wears Prada 2 has not yet been officially released in cinemas at the time of writing, assistant Jin Zhao is already seen by some as a textbook example of this trope: petite, deferential, yet also a hardworking overachiever.
In the promotional clip, she introduces herself by listing her credentials:
“If you don’t want me, you can interview someone else. That’s totally fine. I did go to Yale, 3.86 GPA, lead soprano of the Whiffenpoofs, and my ACT score was 36 on the very first time.”

According to Jokielicious, this fits the “Pocket Asian” mold perfectly: depicting Asian women as petite and cute, yet also toy-like or accessory-like, something to be “carried” or “used.” For critics, this goes beyond harmless “cuteness,” reducing a person to a racialized physical symbol: small, agreeable, and easily controlled.
One Weibo commenter (@霄林龙松兆) drew a historical parallel:
💬 “Does everyone remember the standard ‘dwarf’ figure in Elizabethan court dramas? Now this type of role has become a ‘symbolic dwarf,’ but the core function remains the same: obedient, somewhat intelligent and entertaining, small in stature, controllable—summoned at will and dismissed just as easily. The difference is that in the past it was a European dwarf; now it’s a different kind of ‘dwarf.’”
Other commenters pointed out that, with Anne Hathaway herself not being particularly tall (5’8” / 1.73 m), casting an Asian actress significantly smaller than her appeared to be a deliberate choice.
The issue raised by the Weibo blogger is far from new. In academic research, similar patterns have been discussed for decades—and they are not limited to female characters.
One of the most cited examples is the caricatured Japanese neighbor, Mr. Yunioshi, played by Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961), often cited as a quintessential stereotyped Asian comedic “outsider.” Other examples include Long Duk Dong in Sixteen Candles (1984), Data in The Goonies (1985), Yen (played by Shaobo Qin) in Ocean’s Eleven (2001), Ngoc Lan Tran in Downsizing (2017), Jian Yang in Silicon Valley, and Leslie Chow (Ken Jeong) in The Hangover (2009).

Across these roles, a familiar pattern emerges of the Asian sidekick figure, combining various stereotypes within a broader Western representational framework that “others” and exoticizes Asian characters.
Why The Devil Wears Prada 2 Hits a Nerve in China
Over the past years, there has been significant improvement in Hollywood and beyond when it comes to the representation of Asian characters. From Crazy Rich Asians to the Fresh Off the Boat, Asian and Asian American communities have increasingly been portrayed in more diverse and authentic ways.
Nevertheless, stereotyping and underrepresentation still persist across films, TV series, and commercials.
So why is The Devil Wears Prada 2 in particular igniting these discussions now?
Perhaps it is precisely because of what the film represents: a cosmopolitan, fashion-driven story about ambitious career women navigating elite professional spaces.
Most Chinese millennials did not see the original 2006 film in theaters, but through pirated DVDs bought at corner shops. Later on, Gen Z audiences discovered it via online platforms. Over time, The Devil Wears Prada carved out a special place in the Chinese market, particularly among urban, educated young women navigating career pressures. Its themes of workplace hierarchy, female ambition, and the tension between professional success and personal identity strongly resonated with younger generations.
The film’s fashion element was a key part of its appeal. At the time of its release, China was entering a period of rapid luxury brand expansion, and the film offered a glimpse into a global fashion world that still felt distant for many.

The cultural footprint of The Devil Wears Prada (known in Chinese as “The Queen Wears Prada” 穿普拉达的女王) is also evident in how its sequel is being marketed. China is treated as a primary market: the film is released a day earlier than in North America, the main stars attended the Shanghai premiere, Hathaway wore a Chinese designer, and promotions were tied to Vogue China.
But this is also where it stings.
China is a key market, and Chinese audiences in 2026 are not the same as they were in 2006. Today, Chinese cities are just as—if not more—fashionable, avant-garde, and cosmopolitan as New York or Paris.
So why include a character that the very same audiences you are trying to court may recognize as a stereotype of themselves? This creates a clear disconnect between marketing and content, helping explain why the reaction, whether amplified by media or not, has landed on fertile ground.
One Xiaohongshu user nicknamed ‘Momo’ wrote:
💬 “Despite pouring massive promotional efforts into Asia, the film still reveals outdated thinking in its portrayal. That’s disrespectful to its audience. I’m choosing not to watch it.”
Others echo similar sentiments, with some saying they will skip the film altogether.
Meanwhile, some internet users imagine a reversed scenario: what if Andy, the film’s protagonist, were Chinese or Asian, and her assistant American?

Others have also used AI tools to reimagine the film’s title as “The Racist Wears Prada.”

At the same time, discussions around the film remain mixed. Many viewers are still eagerly anticipating its release and revisiting the 2006 original, while others are more critical.
There are also commercial dynamics at play. Some entertainment bloggers—particularly Mengshen Mumu, who helped trigger the initial wave of reports—claim that the production side has filed complaints across Chinese social media platforms to remove certain critical posts. Weibo has, in fact, taken down at least one hashtag related to the controversy (#穿普拉达的女王2亚裔争议#).
To what extent these controversies will impact the film’s box office performance in China remains to be seen.
What is clear, however, is that these discussions reflect a broader and increasingly visible friction between Hollywood and Chinese audiences in the social media landscape of 2026. It is not just about whether China is represented, but how Chinese characters and cultural elements are integrated and portrayed. Chinese moviegoers are no longer a passive audience. They are increasingly proud, protective, and sensitive to the ways in which they are represented on screen.
As one commenter put it:
“We’re no longer content to be ‘Pocket Asians.’”
🎬 The Devil Wears Prada 2 will be released in Chinese cinemas nationwide on April 30.
-By Manya Koetse
With thanks to Miranda Barnes
Eye on Digital China, by Manya Koetse, is co-published on Substack and What’s on Weibo. Both feature the same new content — so you can read and subscribe wherever you prefer. Substack offers community features, while What’s on Weibo provides full archive access. If you’re already subscribed and want to switch platforms, just get in touch for help. If you no longer wish to receive these newsletters, or are receiving duplicate editions, you can unsubscribe at any time.
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《穿普拉达的女王2》卷入辱华!亚裔角色造型刻板,名字恶意满满 / QQ News / April 18
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穿普拉达的女王2亚裔争议 刻板形象引众怒 / China.com / April 19
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