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China’s Biggest Medical Scandal of 2025 (So Far)

Manya Koetse

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Dear Reader,


A controversy that has been brewing recently has completely taken over the Chinese internet over the past week, becoming the biggest public scandal on Chinese social media in 2025 so far.

At the center of it all is Dr. Xiao Fei, a well-known thoracic surgeon at the prestigious China-Japan Friendship Hospital in Beijing who has come under fire in the medical world following revelations that he cheated on his wife with a head nurse, a trainee, and others.

This may sound like a Chinese version of an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, but it goes far beyond messy relationships alone and reveals serious social concerns and exposes deeper systemic problems involving academic and medical institutions.

To understand how this unfolded, I’ll walk you through the main people involved, the events that led up to it, and the key issues that turned this medical controversy into a nationwide talking point.

Main People Involved  

👨‍⚕️ Xiao Fei (肖飞): associate chief thoracic surgeon at the China-Japan Friendship Hospital (中日友好医院) in Beijing, with a PhD in surgery from Peking University’s medicine department. He had worked at the China-Japan Friendship Hospital since 2012, rising from resident doctor to associate chief surgeon, and was selected for the hospital’s “Elite Program” (菁英计划). He also served as a graduate advisor at Peking Union Medical College (北京协和医学院). A former Communist Party member, he was awarded the title of “Outstanding Communist Party Member” (优秀共产党员) at the hospital in 2020. Xiao is the central figure in the scandal involving multiple affairs and professional misconduct. Born in 1986 and a native of Shaanxi.

The main people involved: Gu Xiaoya (lower left) and Xiao Fei, and Shi Yuhui (top left) and Dong Xiying.

👩‍⚕️ Gu Xiaoya (谷潇雅): associate chief ophthalmologist at Beijing Hospital. Legal wife of Xiao Fei and mother to their daughter. She also holds a PhD in clinical medicine from Peking University. She is the “whistleblower” who exposed the scandal through a detailed letter and supporting material backing up her claims. Native Beijinger.

👩‍⚕️ Shi Yuhui (石玉慧): head nurse of the thoracic surgery department at China-Japan Friendship Hospital. She began an affair with Xiao Fei in early 2019—both were married at the time. During their relationship, she became pregnant twice and miscarried both times. Despite interventions of her own husband and Xiao’s wife, she maintained contact with Xiao and allegedly harassed Gu Xiaoya through 2024. Born in 1981.

👩‍⚕️ Dong Xiying (董袭莹): former urology resident at China-Japan Friendship Hospital. Studied economics at Barnard College in New York (graduated in 2019), then earned her medical doctorate through the “4+4” clinical medicine program at Peking Union Medical College (北京协和医学院). Currently serves as a resident physician at the Cancer Hospital of the Chinese Academy of Medical Sciences. She comes from a privileged background: her father is an executive at a state-owned enterprise; her mother is a vice president at the University of Science and Technology Beijing (北京科技大学). She began a relationship with Xiao in 2024 and is reportedly pregnant with his child, due in June.


From One Letter to Nationwide Concern

This story first started to gain traction within various circles on Chinese social media since around April 21, when a long letter written by Gu Xiaoya (谷潇雅), the legal wife of the renowned surgeon Xiao Fei, was widely circulated, from WeChat to Weibo and Zhihu and beyond. Soon, Chinese media outlets picked up the story, causing it to snowball and going trending on social media. The first time it trended on Weibo was on Sunday, April 27.

✉️ The letter that started it all  

Gu’s letter, dated April 18, 2025, was addressed to the Disciplinary Committee at the China-Japan Friendship Hospital in Beijing. In the letter and attached materials, Gu Xiaoya details how her husband had been cheating on her since 2016 — including exact dates, locations, and chat records to support her claims.

First part of Gu’s letter

She writes that she wanted to report her husband’s extramarital affairs, as well as his apparent intent to have a child out of wedlock, because she believed his behavior “seriously violated social morality and professional ethics, and had a profoundly negative impact on both the hospital and the education of medical students.”

Gu explains that she first discovered Xiao Fei’s infidelity when she checked his phone in October 2019 and uncovered his secret affair with Shi Yuhui (石玉慧), a head nurse in his department, with whom he had been involved since at least February of that year. The two would also stay in hotel rooms together during trips, some work-related. According to Gu — and backed by hospital records — Shi became pregnant twice in 2019, both pregnancies ending in miscarriages.

Gu says that efforts to stop the affair were fruitless, even when Shi’s own husband was involved in trying to end the affair, and that Shi Yuhui continued to harass Gu for years afterward.

However, in June 2024, while on duty in the operating room, Xiao began another new affair — this time with Dong Xiying, a urology resident physician. Their relationship developed quickly. According to her medical training schedule, Dong was supposed to move on to another department in July 2024, but Xiao allegedly intervened to ensure she remained in thoracic surgery.

During this period, Gu claims that during a surgery on July 5, 2024, Xiao Fei had a dispute in the operating room involving his affair partner, Dong Xiying, and a nurse. As a result, Xiao left the operating room with Dong (allegedly to comfort her), even though a patient had already been anesthetized and was lying on the operating table. They were gone for 40 minutes, during which the anesthetist and nurse were left to manage the patient alone.

Gu mentions that medical staff involved in or aware of the operation later raised concerns in internal group chats or reported the incident directly to the hospital’s education or supervisory offices.

In a screenshot of the Surgical Anesthesia Department Nurses Group, one nurse said:

💬 “First thing in the morning, Xiao Fei was chaotic – he completely lost his temper on a phone call, tore off his surgical gown, and left the operating room. He called Zhang Ying (张颖) angrily saying if the circulating nurse wasn’t replaced, he would cancel the surgery. He then unfastened the scrubs of the trainee doctor Dong, and left with her. The surgery was left undone! They had just connected the electrosurgical unit when Xiao left with the trainee doctor, leaving the anesthetized patient lying in the OR. There was no doctor present during surgical time!”

In October 2024, Xiao filed for divorce. Gu later discovered that he was already living with Dong Xiying, who had become pregnant the previous month.

Gu also learned that Xiao had been involved in other affairs dating back to 2016, when Gu was pregnant with their daughter, and that he would stay at different hotels with various female members of staff and nurses.

She claims she initially hoped to avoid legal action, but Xiao’s threats to seek full custody of their daughter pushed her to expose his affairs and seek justice.

💥 Far-reaching consequences  

On April 27 – the day this topic dropped in Weibo’s top trending lists – the China-Japan Friendship Hospital issued an official statement to respond to the controversy. The hospital confirmed that the allegations involving their staff member Dr. Xiao were basically true (#中日友好医院通报肖某问题属实#). They suspended Xiao while investigating the matter.

Soon, one statement after another, news reports and hashtags followed. Dr. Xiao was expelled from the Communist Party, his profile was removed from the hospital’s website, and his employment was terminated.

Around April 30, public attention began shifting toward Dong Xiying (董袭莹) and her academic credentials. The young physician, who graduated from Barnard College in New York with a degree in economics, entered the “4+4” MD/PhD medical training program at Peking Union Medical College (PUMC) in 2019. Within a few years, she was praised as a model student within the 4+4 track (non-medical undergraduate + 4 years medical training).

Netizens soon discovered that PUMC had been quietly removing articles from its website related to Dong. Her PhD thesis disappeared from public databases, and her name was edited out of the President’s Commencement Address. As more details about her privileged background surfaced, growing doubts emerged about her qualifications and how she gained admission to the program.

It is rumored that Dong has now left China for the US. The hospital has not yet released details on how – and if – Shi Yuhui will be dealt with.

On May 1st, China’s National Health Commission announced an official investigation into the matter, looking into the allegations against Xiao and also reviewing the academic and work history of Dong Xiying.

The scandal has caused something of an earthquake — not just within medical circles, but also in academic ones, and across the internet at large, where netizens are particularly concerned about the broader social issues this story touches on.

Some netizens made mindmaps of the scandal to explain who the main persons nvolved are and what the key issues are. Shared by Qiao

There are many layers to this story, and perhaps more yet to be uncovered. One popular Weibo blogger (Qiao Kaiwan @乔凯文) commented about the scandal, and the role played by Dong Xiying:

💬 “(..) it’s rare for a central figure in a single case to touch on five major socially sensitive issues all at once: educational fairness (教育公平), doctor-patient trust (医患信任), marital fidelity (婚姻忠诚), class solidification [lack of upward mobility] (阶层固化), and academic corruption (学术腐败)…”

At its core, public concern centers around various major themes that are all tied to deeply rooted cultural values or long-standing social issues. Since there is some overlap within these topics, I’ll focus on three main values vs concerns here.

1. Fairness in Education & Corruption in Academia

Fairness and corruption within China’s education system are recurring hot social topics. Education is widely regarded as the main path to upward mobility, which makes the system fiercely competitive—starting as early as kindergarten. The pressure to succeed in the gaokao college entrance exams begins years before the tests are actually taken.

Most Chinese parents are willing to invest heavily in their children’s education, driven by the fear that their kids will fall behind. This intense competition is reflected in the popularity of the term nèijuǎn (内卷), “involution,” which describes a situation where students (or professionals) must overwork and go above and beyond just to keep up with peers. Everyone ends up standing on their toes to keep pushing the bar—yet no one moves forward (read more about this here).

Especially in such a competitive system, where entire families invest so much time, energy, and resources into helping younger generations succeed, academic corruption is a sensitive issue that affects trust in the entire system and exacerbates common people’s disillusionment with meritocracy. Yet academic corruption—ranging from plagiarism and data manipulation to power abuse and favoritism—has been a widespread and increasingly discussed problem in mainland China since the 1990s.

Central to the current controversy surrounding Xiao Fei and Dong Xiying is the “4+4 program,” an experimental and relatively new medical education model inspired by the American system. Unlike China’s traditional path (five years of undergraduate study in medicine followed by three years of graduate training), this program allows students to complete four years of non-medical undergraduate education, followed by four years of medical training. It’s a fast track in which students can begin practicing medicine after just one year of residency instead of three. It was originally intended to create opportunities for talented individuals who decide to pursue medicine later on in their academic careers.

It sounds good in theory, but many feel that the program—with its high undergraduate standards and required letters of recommendation—essentially serves as a “backdoor” into medicine for the elite. Only a small number of applicants are admitted: the quota for both the 2025 and 2026 cohorts at PUCM is just 45 students.

Online, many are questioning whether Dong really met the proper standards for admission. How could someone with an economics degree from a liberal arts college become a so-called “medical talent” in just a few years? In contrast, people have pointed to Chen Ruyue (陈如月), a finance graduate from the prestigious Peking University who was also passionate about medicine and applied for the same program, but was rejected. Netizens wonder, “Where is the fairness in medical education?”

Many suspect Dong benefited from privileged access via family connections—her mother Mi Zhenli (米振莉) is a vice president at the University of Science and Technology Beijing (USTB), and her father Dong Xiaohui (董晓辉) is a senior executive at a state-owned enterprise.

Suspicions deepened when people discovered that Dong’s PhD supervisor, the orthopedic academician Qiu Guixing (邱贵兴), had no connection to her research field. Her clinical trajectory involves many different areas, from gynecological imaging and internal medicine to thoracic surgery and urology, a seemingly patchy path that raised further questions because this “magical and legendary swift crossovers between medical fields”of Dong could supposedly only mean that she is either an “unprecedented genius” or that her “stardom medical rise” was facilitated by “countless invisible hands” (comments by popular Weibo blogger @庚白).

There’s more that’s raised eyebrows.

Dong’s academic publishing history shows that she authored eleven research papers over a period of three years across various disciplines, from orthopedics to gynecology and urology. There are doubts over the exact role played by Dong in some of these studies. Dong was still a resident at the lowest level with relatively little experience, yet was able to publish bladder cancer diagnosis and treatment guidelines—she was listed as the first author on three English-language papers about bladder cancer clinical guidelines. Some allege that her contributions, like translating Chinese guidelines to English, do not merit a first-author mention.

There are also concerns about plagiarism. Claims have emerged that Dong’s 2023 doctoral thesis shows significant similarities to an invention patent submitted in 2022 by several professors and Zhao Jihuai (赵基淮), a hearing-impaired graduate student from the University of Science and Technology Beijing (USTB), who is mentored by Professor Ban Xiaojuan (班晓娟), Dong’s aunt.

It also does not help that PUMC, once promoting Dong as a success story, has now deleted related articles from its site and edited her name out of the President’s Commencement Address that mentioned her.

Concerns about Dong’s academic background and the apparent bending of rules inevitably also cast a shadow over the medical institutions where she trained. According to Gu’s letter, Dong was expected to rotate through various departments as part of her residency. However, instead of moving on to spinal surgery after completing her thoracic surgery rotation, she was allowed to remain—allegedly due to personal connections and pressure from Dr. Xiao—even though the hospital’s education team had initially objected.

If true, this could not only point to routine abuses of power within the medical training systems, but also creates unease over how qualified doctors such a Dong actually are, which also affects the trust patients place in hospitals.


2. Trust Between Patients and Doctors & Medical Negligence

The main incident in this scandal that has sparked widespread controversy is the moment when Dr. Xiao reportedly left the operating room together with Dong for an entire 40 minutes during a surgery, leaving the anesthetized patient on the table.

The idea that even a chief doctor such as Xiao can violate medical ethics by leaving a surgery mid-procedure for 40 minutes deepens fears about medical professionalism.

Trust between patients and doctors and worries over medical negligence are recurring topics on Chinese social media. There have been dozens of incidents that previously went viral showing how some doctors abuse or scam patients, or put commercial interests above the health of their patients. Some stories that gained nationwide attention in previous years include an anesthesiologist from Shandong who live-streamed while a patient was undergoing gynecological surgery, or a young patient who was asked to pay more money while already undergoing a surgery.

Such distrust in doctor-patient relations flared up again in light of this incident, in which a sedated patient was, against all protocol, left on the operating table mid-surgery—allegedly due only to a quarrel between another nurse and Xiao’s mistress that made him angry.

Xiao has given two media interviews in response to the allegations. Regarding the claim that he stormed out of the operating room with Dong, leaving a patient behind, he reportedly stated that he was not gone for 40 minutes, but for a maximum of 20 minutes to calm down after a dispute. Although Xiao has admitted to inappropriate relationships with a head nurse and a training resident physician (refuting allegations of affairs with other nurses or members of staff), he firmly denied more serious allegations involving medical safety.

In an interview with Jiupai News, he said:

💬 “I have clear supporting evidence that around 9 AM, I left the operating table after an argument. I left to coordinate, not to ‘demand.’ I coordinated with a senior staff member in the operating room about whether it would be possible to replace the circulating nurse under these circumstances. Then I went upstairs to measure my blood pressure, drink some water, and take some blood-pressure medication. After calming down a bit, I immediately returned to the OR. I believe this was entirely reasonable. In fact, I was precisely concerned about the patient’s safety. Before I left, I gave specific instructions to the nurse at the table. Our anesthesiologist was present as well, and their professional competence is fully sufficient to ensure the safety of a patient who had not yet undergone any surgical procedure.

Regardless of the circumstances, the fact that Xiao Fei left an anesthetized patient during surgery is not only one of the reasons that cost him his job—it’s also one of the reasons why he has temporarily become the most hated doctor in China among the public.

The fact that he tried to defend his actions only seemed to aggravate public opinion against him: “So he thinks 20 minutes is a short time to leave a surgery?” some say; “completely outrageous,” “a serious threat to patient safety.”

“Xiao is morally bankrupt,” another commenter wrote: “He is still trying to make excuses for leaving the OR mid-surgery. As chief surgeon he seriously violated his professional values. Not only doesn’t he reflect, he doesn’t even have remorse.”

3. Moral Integrity & Marital Infidelity

In the end, this entire scandal started because Xiao was caught cheating with multiple women at his workplace. That alone is seen as a lack of moral integrity and a violation of professional ethics, which are also tied to corruption and power abuse.

In China’s corruption cases, extramarital affairs often serve as red flags — not every official with a mistress is corrupt, but most corrupt officials do have one.

One of the most high-profile public cases involving an extramarital affair was in 2023, when Chinese official Hu Jiyong (胡继勇), who held a high-ranking position at PetroChina, was caught walking hand in hand with his mistress by a TikTok photographer during a work trip to Chengdu.

Chinese state media wrote that “being a Communist Party of China member, Hu has moral obligations, which he transgressed by having an alleged extramarital affair.”

Hu Jiyong was dismissed from his positions as executive director, general manager, and Party Committee secretary. His mistress, coincidentally also a Miss Dong, also lost her job at the company. For Xiao Fei and Dong Xiying, the exposure of their illicit affair might have even more serious repercussions.

In the end, Gu’s letter had a major impact on everyone involved. Xiao’s actions not only carried serious consequences for Gu and their young daughter, but also ended his career, affected both Dong Xiying and Shi Yuhui and their families, and damaged the reputations of the China-Japan Friendship Hospital and PUMC.

The entire scandal is not really about Xiao or Dong anymore. It is about the entire system around them that facilitated their affair and made it possible to bend the rules and engage in unethical and unprofessional behavior.

On May 5, Chinese political commentator and columnist Sima Pingbang (@司马平邦), who has 7 million followers on Weibo, wrote: “What I think of the Xiao Fei and Dong Xiying incident: The academic authorities behind them must be brought down!”

Meanwhile, despite the serious concerns behind the scandal, plenty of people are also just enjoying the online spectacle. Some performers are even incorporating the story of Xiao and Dong into their comedy shows.

It’s not Grey’s Anatomy — it’s actually much more dramatic, and hasn’t even reached its final episode yet…

Thanks to Miranda Barnes and Ruixin Zhang for their input and contributions to this newsletter.

Also, welcome to the new premium members of What’s on Weibo!
Please know that I’m always open to suggestions—if you spot any noteworthy trends you’d like to learn more about, don’t hesitate to reach out. I always enjoy receiving your emails.

It’s great to see the subscriber community growing. That said, What’s on Weibo still needs to expand its member base to cover all costs and keep subscription prices as they are. If you enjoy one of our articles, this newsletter, or the site in general, please spread the word (or consider gifting a subscription to someone who might love it too)!

Best,

Manya

(@manyapan on X, Bluesky, Instagram, or follow on Linkedin)

PS I wanted to make a separate column for this, but there’s already a lot to unpack in this edition, so just a quick note: I highly recommend this fascinating long read by Murong Xuecun in The Guardian on how the famous Chinese author befriended his Weibo censor who quietly resisted China’s censorship system from within.


What’s Featured

A deeper dive behind the hashtag



JD vs Meituan | There’s always something going on in the world of Chinese food delivery, but these recent developments are particularly noteworthy, with e-commerce giant JD challenging industry leader Meituan. Ruixin Zhang explains what’s happening and explores the impact of this food delivery rivalry for Chinese consumers and the delivery drivers who serve them.


What’s Trending

Handpicked roundup of hot hashtags & online discussions


22 Fatalities |A popular restaurant in Liaoyang, lunch rush hour—and suddenly, a spark turned into a major fire. How could a restaurant fire become so deadly, leading to 22 people losing their lives? The Liaoyang fire quickly became a shocking trending news item, raising awareness about fire safety measures just ahead of the May holiday.

..what else to know?

🧳 The five-day May Day holiday that just wrapped up saw a travel boom, with an 8% year-on-year rise in spending. Alongside the popularity of traditional hotspots—from the Shanghai Bund to Beijing’s Forbidden City—some noteworthy new destinations also emerged. Pingtan in Fujian, Rongchang in Chongqing, and Fuliang in Jiangxi saw an influx of travelers, reflecting the county-level travel trend we reported on in 2024 (see #9)

🚗 Auto Shanghai 2025 (上海车展) wrapped up on May 2nd, becoming a hot topic due to all of the innovative electric vehicles on display, and is being celebrated as a global win for China’s EV leadership. An eye-catching slogan on display next to the Ford China stand: “Don’t let tariffs steal your dreams” (别让关税 偷走你的梦想).

🇨🇳 “China won’t kneel to Trump” was the main message propagated on Chinese social media the eve before Trump’s speech marking the first 100 days of his second term in office. China’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs pushed out the social media campaign using the slogan “China won’t kneel, China won’t retreat” (#中国不跪中国不退#) and promoting a video in which Beijing presents itself as the stable alternative in a world increasingly destabilized by the United States. (#外交部发布短片不跪#).

📱 A Chinese student who drowned in a septic tank while trying to retrieve her phone has made trending news this week (#女大学生旱厕捞手机掉化粪池溺亡#), although the incident occurred earlier in April. The 22-year-old student had gone to use a traditional outdoor latrine in Gansu while attending a temple fair, when her phone fell in. While attempting to recover it, she fell into a septic tank over two meters deep and lost her life in a terrible way (drowning and exposure to methane gas). Her parents are refusing a settlement and are holding the temple fair organizers responsible.

🚨 The capsizing of a boat in Guizhou and a Fuzhou car-ramming case both went trending during the May holiday. In Fuzhou, a car plowed into pedestrians on Friday night during the busy holiday evening (video), killing at least two people. The driver was taken into custody and official statements cited “improper operation” as the cause. In Guizhou, a boat capsized in a river in Qianxi City on Sunday due to strong winds, throwing 84 passengers into the water. Nine passengers drowned.


Weibo Word of the Week

The catchphrase to know


The China tour of American Youtube star IShowSpeed (Darren Watkins Jr.) is still echoing on Chinese social media—the hype hasn’t quieted down just yet, especially now that the popular livestreamer launched his very first Chinese commercial, just in time for the May Day holiday.

It’s an online commercial for China’s dairy giant Yili, and—in line with IShowSpeed’s high-energy livestream—it is entertainingly chaotic, mixing up classic celebrity-style commercial with a short storyline in which Watkins encourages people to try out new things, and then also adds a bit of music and some inspirational words by the YouTuber.

The slogan used in the commercial is “lái dōu lái le” (来都来了), along with the English tagline “Enjoy milk, enjoy holiday.” “Lái dōu lái le” (来都来了) is a simple phrase that basically means “You’re already here,” and implies a light-hearted “Why not?” to encourage people to go on and do something (since you’ve come this far), or try something new.

Dao Insights’ Yimin Wang explained it as having a positive and daring tone to try new things that you’d otherwise “wouldn’t, couldn’t, or even shouldn’t,” much like YOLO from the early 2010s (link).

I’d say, lái dōu lái le, and watch the entire commercial here.



This is an on-site version of the Weibo Watch newsletter by What’s on Weibo. Missed the last newsletter? Find it here. If you are already subscribed to What’s on Weibo but are not yet receiving this newsletter in your inbox, please contact us directly to let us know. No longer wish to receive these newsletters? You can unsubscribe at any time while remaining a premium member.

Manya is the founder and editor-in-chief of What's on Weibo, offering independent analysis of social trends, online media, and digital culture in China for over a decade. Subscribe to gain access to content, including the Weibo Watch newsletter, which provides deeper insights into the China trends that matter. More about Manya at manyakoetse.com or follow on X.

China Memes & Viral

Jingdezhen’s “Chicken Chop Bro”, Golden Week Travel Trends & China’s Donkey Shortage Crisis

From viral street food vendors to China’s donkey crisis and new eldercare services, here’s this week’s Weibo highlights in What’s on Weibo’s China Trend Watch.

Manya Koetse

Published

on

🔥 What’s Trending in China This Week? Stay updated with China Trend Watch by What’s on Weibo — your quick overview of what’s trending on Weibo and across other Chinese social media, curated by Manya Koetse.

What’s inside:

  • 1. Jingdezhen’s “Chicken Chop Bro” Becomes Nationwide Meme
  • 2. China’s 2025 Golden Week Travel Trends
  • 3. China Faces Donkey Shortage Crisis
  • 4. Word of the Week: “Ride-hailing for Relatives” 亲属打车 Qīnshǔ Dǎchē
  • 5. What’s Inside at a Glance

TOP TREND

1. Jingdezhen’s “Chicken Chop Bro” Becomes Nationwide Meme

[#鸡排哥1分钟视频报价仅10元#] [#鸡排哥#] [#鸡排哥回应走红#]

From Beijing to Zibo, every now and then, food stall vendors go viral — for their charm, their uniqueness, and most of all, their tasty food. The star of this moment is 48-year-old Li Junyong (李俊永), who runs a small fried chicken stall in Jingdezhen, Jiangxi Province, with tight rules on who he serves, when, and how.

Li has suddenly become one of the most trending people on Chinese social media under the nickname “Chicken Chop Brother” (鸡排哥 jīpáigē).

Li initially gained popularity among customers for his frantic, multitasking energy — he doesn’t mess around when it comes to his chicken chop business, with superspeed and a clear order of serving customers (“I’ll first do you, then finish yours, then I’ll serve you 做完你的做你的”) and rules such as: no individual customers after 4:30 PM; students pay 1 yuan (about $0.15) less than regular passersby (after 12:00 PM, however, it costs 1 yuan more as punishment for being indecisive); and customers must open the plastic bag themselves before he puts the hot chicken cutlet inside.

The serious way he goes about dealing with his chicken chops almost makes you think he was making big business deals instead of selling to middle school students. In the end, it’s that attitude that gained him social media fame, as students started referring to him as “Head of Chicken Cutlet Operations” (free translation for 鸡排主理人 Jīpái gē Zhǔlǐrén).

Head of Chicken Chop Operations: “Please open your plastic bag”, “No individual customers after 4:30 PM”, etc.

In light of Li’s explosive popularity, his chicken chop stall now sees extremely long queues, and local authorities and city management have had to intervene in order to control the crowds and keep the location safe.

There are definite downsides to such sudden fame, and Li is not the first street vendor this has happened to.

In 2023, for example, Beijing’s ‘Auntie Goose Legs’ (鹅腿阿姨) went viral, and the food stall owner became so overwhelmed that she temporarily had to take a break from her food stall, emotionally sharing how she said she felt too much pressure because of how the situation was unfolding, and that she just wanted to sell her goose legs in peace (“只想平平安安做烧烤”).

Long lines for Auntie’s goose legs.

It seems that “Brother Chicken Chops”, in line with his reputation as the chicken chop CEO, is trying to turn his viral moment into a sustainable business. According to Sina News, Li has drawn in relatives to help him. He reportedly has taught them how to make and sell his tasty fried chicken chops, and now his Chicken Chop Family (“鸡排家族”) has grown to a total of nine stalls.

Over the past week, Li has also joined several social media platforms, including Xiaohongshu, to build a social following that will last after the hype calms down.

Meanwhile, Li is the meme of the moment. As many Chinese workers experience working stress before the National Day holiday, they’ve used his superspeed working style videos to express the pressure they feel to finish all their deadlines. See videos here.


— What Else Is Trending —
WHAT’S POPULAR

2. China’s 2025 Golden Week Travel Trends

[#黄金周#] [#国庆节#] [#中秋节#]

China’s longest holiday of 2025 is coming up, combining National Day (国庆节) and Mid-Autumn Festival (中秋节) into an eight-day Golden Week from October 1–8. If you’re traveling in China this week, good luck — the country’s transportation infrastructure is being pushed to its operational limits.

On September 30, the first “smart people” who opted to leave early to avoid traffic jams already found themselves stuck in them. China’s Ministry of Transport estimates a staggering 2.36 billion trips will be made during this period, with October 1 expected to see over 340 million travelers — surpassing the historical peak of 339 million recorded during Spring Festival earlier this year.

🔸 This week is going to see a lot of events. According to the Ministry of Culture & Tourism, more than 12,000 cultural activities will be held across China during the eight-day holiday period, including over 300 large-scale light shows.

🔸 Chinese local tourism offices are going all in on city marketing and are finding new strategies to make themselves more appealing to young travelers. Chengdu, for example, as Tencent’s gaming hub, is integrating the 10th anniversary of the super popular mobile game Honor of Kings (王者荣耀, Wángzhě Róngyào) into its cultural tourism strategy this year, organizing game-themed city walks, exhibitions, and more.

🔸 China’s travel platform Trip.com reported that interprovincial travel bookings have surged 45% year-on-year, with particularly strong interest in remote destinations like Xinjiang, Tibet, and Inner Mongolia. Searches for hotels in these regions jumped 60% compared to last year. This reflects a shift among middle-class Chinese tourists toward experiential travel and natural landscapes rather than crowded urban attractions.

🔸 The holidays are a time for relaxation, reunions, and eating mooncakes, but it’s also a stressful time for Chinese employers who must comply with labor regulations while managing workforce availability and overtime obligations. Under China’s Labor Law, employees working on statutory public holidays—October 1–3 and October 6 (the official Mid-Autumn Festival date)—must receive at least 300% of their normal daily wage. For adjusted rest days (October 4–5 and October 7–8), employers must provide either 200% overtime pay or compensatory time off. The State Council designated September 28 (Sunday) and October 11 (Saturday) as make-up workdays, but private companies have flexibility to adjust their own schedules.

WHAT’S NOTEWORTHY

3. China Faces Unprecedented Donkey Shortage Crisis

[#我国正面临缺驴危机#] [#中国当前不缺牛马只缺驴#]

China is facing a serious donkey shortage. China’s donkey population is far below market demand, and the prices of donkey-related products continue to rise. The Donkey Branch of China’s Livestock Association (中国畜牧业协会驴业分会) addressed this issue in Chinese media earlier last week, telling China News Weekly (中国新闻周刊): “We have plenty of cattle and horses in China now — just not enough donkeys” (“目前我国牛马都不缺,就缺驴”).

China’s donkey population has plummeted by nearly 90% over the past decades, from 11.2 million in 1990 to just 1.46 million in 2023. The massive drop is related to the modernization of China’s agricultural industry, in which the traditional role of donkeys as farming helpers — “tractors” — has diminished. As agricultural machines took over, donkeys lost their role in Chinese villages and were “laid off.”

Donkeys also reproduce slowly, and breeding them is less profitable than pigs or sheep, partly due to their small body size.

As a result of China’s “donkey crisis,” the “donkey meat burgers” you order in China might actually be horse meat nowadays. Many vendors have switched — some secretly so (although that is officially illegal).

Efforts are underway to reverse the trend, including breeding incentives in Gansu and large-scale farms in Inner Mongolia and Xinjiang. China is also cooperating with Pakistan, one of the world’s top donkey-producing nations, and will invest $37 million in donkey breeding. However, experts say the shortage is unlikely to be resolved in the short term.

The quote that was featured by China News Weekly — “We have cows and horses, but no donkeys” (“牛马有的是,就缺驴”) — has sparked viral discussion online, not just because of the actual crisis but also due to some wordplay in Chinese, with “cows and horses” (“牛马”) often referring to hardworking, obedient workers, while “donkey” (“驴”) is used to describe more stubborn and less willing-to-comply individuals.

Not only is this quote making the shortage a metaphor for modern workplace dynamics in China, it also reflects on the state media editor who dared to feature this as the main header for the article. One Weibo user wrote: “It’s easy to be a cow or a horse. But being a donkey takes courage.”

WORD OF THE WEEK

4. “Ride-hailing for Relatives” 亲属打车 Qīnshǔ Dǎchē

[#微信上线亲属打车小程序#] [#微信亲属打车#]

Tencent has rolled out a new function via WeChat Mini Programs on September 26, aimed at helping seniors who struggle with app-based ride-hailing. Thanks to the new function, now live nationwide, users can order rides on behalf of older relatives directly in WeChat.

Adult children who want to help out their less tech-savvy (grand)parents or other senior relatives can now bind their account to their own, remotely pre-set pickup and drop-off locations, as well as payment methods, and track their journey for safety.

What makes this different from the possibility of just ordering a ride for someone else is that the seniors stay in control to some extent and can see their own journeys on their own phones. Children can configure settings on their side, while the interface for the elderly users is simplified. This allows seniors to ride independently, with a little help from their family.

The move is part of a broader effort in China to make it easier for seniors to stay involved in the digitalization of society.

The word to know is 亲属打车 qīnshǔ dǎchē, consisting of “亲属” qīnshǔ (relatives) and ride-hailing 打车 dǎchē.

5. What’s Trending at a Glance

  • ✈️ The 27-year-old Sichuan creator “Tang Feiji” (唐飞机) died in a plane crash while livestreaming on Sept 27. The ultralight aircraft, piloted and purchased by Tang himself, went out of control and crashed before catching fire. Over 1,000 viewers were watching live, with the chat flooded by messages pleading for someone to rescue him. Local village officials confirmed his death. The tragedy is fueling debate over amateur aviation and extreme content creation.
  • 🟢 Weibo has rolled out a visible “online status” feature on personal pages, showing when users are online, and not everyone is happy with it. The new feature is met with criticism from concerned users who don’t want others to see they’re online. It brings back memories of China’s legendary IM app QQ, which, like MSN, showed the online status of users.
  • 🥿 A Chinese Marriott hotel location in Changzhou has come under scrutiny adn triggered hygiene concerns after guests found out that the in-room hotel slippers were being reused. The hotel has admitted to disinfected the disposable slippers and reusing them 2–3 times, without disclosing this to guests in advance.
  • ⚖️ China’s cyberspace authorities issued stern warnings and announced penalties on various Chinese social platforms recently, including Xiaohongshu, Weibo, and Kuaishou, which are blamed for not keeping celebrity gossip and low-quality content in check and for influencing their hot search rankings. This is all about algorithm governance and the tightrope platforms walk in serving readers, attracting attention, and satisfying regulators.
  • 👵 “Outsourced Children” services for Chinese seniors went trending recently. In Dalian, an initiative offering companionship and mediation services for seniors charges 500–2,500 yuan ($70–$350) per visit and has apparently been quite a success, underscoring strong market demand of eldercare-related services and new opportunities for Chinese students.

By Manya Koetse

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China Arts & Entertainment

Evil Unbound (731): How a Chinese Anti-Japanese War Film Backfired

731 was China’s most anticipated war movie of the year — how could it fail so miserably to live up to public expectations?

Manya Koetse

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How did Evil Unbound (731), one of the most anticipated Chinese war movies of 2025, go from patriotic hype to online backlash? A deep dive into the official narrative, the audience reception, and everything that’s particular about this movie.
 

731 and 918, those were the numbers dominating Chinese social media over the past week. Both numbers carry heavy historical weight, but the recent discussions surrounding them reveal two parallel worlds of the official narrative vs the audience experience of a controversial new World War II film.

It was “9.18” on Thursday, when China commemorated the 94th anniversary of the September 18th Incident (九一八事变). On that day in 1931, a small explosion on a Japanese-owned railway near Shenyang (Mukden) was used as a pretext to invade Manchuria.

While many older Chinese were taught in school that the war began in 1937, recent state-led campaigns increasingly emphasize 1931 as the true beginning of China’s “14-year-long war” (1931–1945). Over the past decade, the 918 commemorations have become more prominent online, shaping public memory through nationalistic messaging.

This year, the commemoration had an extra dimension, as it wove the release of Evil Unbound (English title), also known as 731, into the patriotic media narratives around 918.

Patriotic film poster putting 918 and 731 together.

The much-anticipated war movie 731 depicts the atrocities of Japan’s Unit 731 (731部队), notorious for conducting horrific biological warfare experiments in Harbin during World War II under Major General Shiro Ishii (石井四郎), a former army surgeon and biologist with a particular interest in historical plagues. Under his command, Japan’s biological warfare and human experimentation in China were carried out on a larger scale than anywhere else between the 1930s and 1940s.

After the war, because the US felt his knowledge on bioweapons was of great value, Ishii was granted political immunity deal and was never brought to trial.

Together with the Nanjing Massacre, Unit 731 has come to symbolize the peak horrors of Japan’s wartime atrocities. Public attention for this history has grown in recent years, especially since the 2015 opening of the Harbin-based Museum of Evidence of War Crimes by Unit 731.

It was around that same time, about a decade ago, when Chinese director Zhao Linshan (赵林山) started working on the movie Evil Unbound (731), produced by Changchun Film Group in collaboration with the Propaganda Departments of Shandong, Jilin, Heilongjiang, and Harbin.

It finally premiered nationwide on Thursday, ‘9.18’ at exactly 9:18 and shattered 10 box office records on its opening day. Screened 258,000 times in a single day, it rapidly surpassed 200 million yuan (US$28 million) in ticket sales. After three days, the box office exceeded 1 billion yuan (US$140 million).

The film focuses on Unit 731 in the final days before Japan’s defeat in 1945, portraying how local salesman Wang Yongzhang (王永章, played by Jiang Wu 姜武) is imprisoned together with other civilians. They are promised freedom in exchange for “health checks and epidemic prevention cooperation,” and are subjected to frostbite experiments, poison gas, and vivisections.

Official film posters for Evil Unbound/731.

“What we made is not a movie — it is historical evidence,” director Zhao said about the film.

A state-orchestrated hashtag ecosystem is currently amplifying the film’s ‘success.’ Similar to previous viral war film hits such as The Battle at Lake Changjin (长津湖) and Nanjing Photo Studio (Dead to Rights 南京照相馆), the media campaigns highlight the film’s commercial performance, its educational and historical value, the ‘authenticity’ of its production process, and its emotional reception and overseas recognition.

Recent trending hashtags, from Kuaishou to Weibo and beyond, include:

  • 电影731票房再创新高 – “Film 731 sets another box office record”
  • 没有人能在看731时不流泪 – “No one can watch 731 without crying”
  • 观众掩面哭泣 / 哭到没法接受采访 – “Audiences cover faces in tears” or “Audiences too moved to be interviewed”
  • 观众自发起立唱国歌 – “Audience spontaneously stand up to sing national anthem”
  • 海外观众看731不停抹泪 – “Overseas audiences weeping when seeing 731”
  • 9岁小孩看完731后泪奔 – “9-year-old child burst into tears after watching 731”
  • 日本观众看完电影731后情绪崩溃 – “Japanese audiences having emotional breakdown after watching 731”
  • 让731这段历史不再沉默 – “The history of 731 can no longer be silenced”

There are hundreds of other hashtags contributing to this official narrative, that portrays Evil Unbound as an absolute patriotic and commercial triumph.

 

From Anticipation to Backlash: 731 Between Shawshank and Squid Game

 

Outside of this official narrative, however, audiences are telling a very different story. Despite months of anticipation, the film has been met with overwhelmingly negative reviews.

On Weibo, the hashtag “731 Film Review” (#731影评#) was pulled offline. On Douban, the movie’s ratings meter was switched off entirely (“暂无评分”). On IMDb, the film is currently rated 3.1.

Usually, criticism of patriotic films is a slippery slope. People have been censored, blocked, or even detained for criticizing war films. But criticism of this film is so widespread, and so ubiquitous across social media platforms, that it is barely containable.

Many viewers called the movie “trash,” while others said they felt “defrauded”.[1] One commenter suggested the director tried to make The Shawshank Redemption but ended up with Squid Game.[2] Others called it “bizarre”[3], or concluded: “The short review section doesn’t even allow enough characters to describe how unbearable this movie is.”[4]

Viewing the film, I must admit I also felt confused – the movie is nothing like you would expect after the state-led promotion of the film.

The opening minutes quickly set a messy historical context, leaping from the 1925 Geneva Protocol to China’s 1943 counteroffensives, to Iwo Jima, and to Japan’s “Operation PX” plan (Operation Cherry Blossoms at Night), a scheme to attack the United States with biological weapons—before landing in Harbin and Unit 731 in the year 1945.

About ten minutes in, the movie seems to switch tracks and take inspiration from Squid Game, the 2021 South Korean survival drama.

Some details appear almost one-to-one from the Netflix show: the cold speaker voice, characters labeled by numbers, stylized lighting (including the Japanese flag’s red dot turned into menacing red spotlight), and eerily sterile sets that create a cold, clinical atmosphere stripped of humanity.

Scenes from 731.

Narrative elements also echo Squid Game’s deadly competitions, including an actual life-or-death rope pulling game. In 731, “winners” are promised freedom (but actually sent for experiments) and “losers” surviving slightly longer, until even these rules seemingly disappear, leaving viewers just as lost as the characters.

Beyond these echoes of Squid Game and The Shawshank Redemption (with their themes of prison break, brotherhood, and hope), where horror meets drama and occasionally even comedy, I also thought I saw traces of The Green Mile (there’s even a befriended mouse), The Shining, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and even Kill Bill.

If this all sounds like a fever dream, that’s about right.

While the film undoubtedly has artistic value in its visual references and symbolism, at times it seems more intent on presenting itself as an arthouse production than on telling a coherent historical war story.

731 scene showing Japanese flags with red lasers/spotlights one the left. Some of the movie’s camera angle points, color use, narrative elements and settings show some similarities with Squid Game (image on right).

731 (left), Squid Game (right)

Scene from 731, which I thought sometimes had some echoes from The Shining.


Another reference to Stanley Kubrick? 731 on the left, Clockwork Orange on the right.

Prison mouse friend. 731 (left) and The Green Mile (right).

And that is also what most of the online critique is about – people feel that while the movie is supposed to be about creating awareness of a particularly horrific part of Chinese war history, the actual factual history seems to have ended up in the background.

One commenter from Harbin wrote:[5]

💬 “For Harbin, 731 is the most painful chapter of history. This movie uses a mass of absurd visuals and music to tell a story that has almost nothing to do with real history. All the information that truly should have been shown is brushed over in passing words, and in the end it just tells audiences ‘never forget history’? This tramples on the history of 731. Stupid and vulgar.

Others are also upset over historical inaccuracies in the film — from the makeup to the sets, the props, and the biological experiments. Even the toilet paper used by the prisoners isn’t very realistic, with some commenters saying these kinds of details ‘drove them crazy’:

💬 “I’m born after 1990, and even I grew up with worse toilet paper than what the aggressors in those years apparently gave to their prisoners. Theirs was so high-quality you could fold it into bows and baby shoes. Must have been strong, durable, and waterproof.”[6]

One other reviewer on Douban wrote:

💬 “As a prison break film it’s not exciting, as a historical film it’s too careless, and as a drama it’s too fragmented.”[7]

Douban reviewer Qingyun (青云) noted that it jumps from relatively calm scenes to intense emotional outbursts or extreme cruelty without any buildup — instead of moving viewers to tears, it alienates them from the story and its characters.

He adds:

💬 “The film wants to exploit history’s seriousness to entertain the public, but also fears the theme is too depressing and will affect the box office, so it stuffs in commercial gimmicks (jokes, fantasy, spectacle). This opportunism sacrifices the solemnity that is rewired for the historical topic, while also failing to provide as qualified entertainment. The result: it offends history and disappoints audiences.”[8]

Most of these disappointed reviewers argued that the chance to tell the story of Unit 731 was wasted by a director and script that offered little context to the subject, with some even suggesting that another, 37-year-old film (Men Behind the Sun, 黑太阳731, 1988) did a better job of conveying the history of Japan’s biological warfare in China.

 

A ‘Masterful Cult Film,’ But a ‘Total Failure’ as a War Movie

 

Despite the wave of strongly negative feedback, there are also those who did find the film moving, giving it five-star reviews — some from those who stress the film’s value as a reminder to “never forget national humiliation,” while others genuinely appreciate its creative vision.

Douban commenter ‘Bat Lord’ (蝙蝠君) called it a “masterful cult film” with the film’s aesthetics being “built on a foundation of Western stereotypical Orientalism of Japan and layered with Christian martyrdom.”[9]

As an example, Bat Lord describes a recurring scene in which prisoners are taken from their cells toward “freedom,” only to be taken to lethal human experiments. They are escorted by Japanese guards in traditional kimonos with samurai swords, led by a geisha carrying a bright red umbrella and wearing impossibly high okobo clogs, followed by Edo-period guards with topknots and white kimono. Bat Lord calls it “Orientalist punk seen through a Western gaze” (“有一种西方视角的东方主义朋克的味道”).

The reviewer also interprets the main characters, the Chinese prisoners, as representations of Christian martyrdom. Cross symbols are indeed everywhere in the film, with prisoner No. 017 constantly drawing crosses on the wall, and an ingenious escape plan hidden in a dictionary as a series of crosses.

At the climax, after battling guards in kimonos with wooden swords, the prisoners flee toward a crematorium resembling a cathedral of light, where crosses formed from pure white beams symbolize freedom. But behind the cross loom the Japanese executioners. After a bloody massacre, the survivors are captured and executed — tied to crosses arranged around a pit, with fleas dropped on them from above as Japanese officers watch from a grandstand.

Cross symbols appear throughout the film.

💬 “It’s clearly a direct homage to Christian martyrs who were sacrificed in the Colosseum during the ancient Roman Empire. In the end, all the protagonists die martyrs’ deaths,” Bat Lord writes.[10]

He concludes that the film is “4/5 as an art house film, but zero points as a war movie”:

💬 “As a mainstream patriotic commercial blockbuster, it is a complete and utter failure (..) But as a niche cult prank film, it actually has some positive points (…) – built on exaggerated Orientalist visions of Japan, it feels strangely authentic. This kind of deconstruction of Japanese culture isn’t something the Japanese themselves could do — only the West or China, as seen in works like The Last Samurai, Ghost of Tsushima, and Shogun.” [11]

He adds:

💬 “The biggest problem is the subject matter. Using 731 — such a solemn, tragic history — only to hollow out its pain, exploit national emotions, and repackage it as a cult prank film disguised as a patriotic blockbuster, inevitably backfires. If it had been framed as a semi-fictional low-budget black comedy, the backlash wouldn’t be so severe.”[12]

 

“No Japanese in Heaven”: Over-‘Othering’ the Enemy

 

How could 731 have failed so miserably to live up to public expectations?

In recent years, Chinese museums, books, and popular culture have made many attempts to revitalize the history of war and make it more relevant to younger generations. In many cases, this has been successful, from popular war dramas to blockbuster films.

But Unit 731 is perhaps an especially difficult subject to adapt into a commercially successful film for a broad audience, especially since it chose to leave out the kind of contextualization that Oppenheimer provided in exploring the history, process, and character development that led to the atomic bomb.

Like the gas chambers of Auschwitz or Mengele’s brutal experiments, its history is so gruesome that there is little to focus on beyond the suffering of the victims and the cruelty of the perpetrators. (The film had already been postponed once, as it allegedly failed to pass official screenings due to its graphic scenes.)

War films in China are expected to reflect — or help shape — national identity. In 731, this means boosting national unity by focusing on Japan as the ultimate “Other,” the ‘constructed outsider’ against which the own national identity is defined.

The entire nation is cast as an enemy, depicted through exaggerated cultural symbols — geishas, kimonos, samurai, and cherry blossoms — regardless of whether they belonged in the actual prison setting. Japan’s national colors and imagery are fused with scenes of bloody and barbaric slaughter, turning Japanese cultural identity itself into a target.

References to Japanese cultural symbols in the film.

In doing so, the film not only holds Japan as a whole responsible for its wartime aggression, but also strengthens Chinese identity by defining it in opposition to Japan, visually contrasting “good” versus “evil” through opposing characters, colors, and symbols.

Clear visual symbols: dead Chinese bodies covered in white dust. With the red circle of blood, the scene resembles a Japanese flag.

This contrast is also made explicit in dialogue: at the beginning of the film, for instance, a young boy enters the stark white prison halls and asks, “Master, are we in heaven?” to which the older Chinese man replies, “Nonsense, how could there be Japanese in heaven?”

In promoting the film, director Zhao Linshan (赵林山) reinforced the image of Japan as the eternal “Other” by explaining that he had insisted none of the Japanese roles could have possibly played by Chinese actors, suggesting they would not be able to convey their evilness. Despite the difficulty of bringing over more than 80 Japanese actors during China’s ‘zero Covid’ era, when 731 was largely filmed, Zhao maintained that “only the Japanese can play this dual nature.”

While Chinese social media is often filled with anti-Japanese sentiment, many viewers criticized the depiction of “Japan” and the Unit 731 staff — not because of the anti-Japanese angle, but because they felt it trivialized history. They argued that Unit 731 was already so horrific that it needed no added gimmicks, tropes, or exaggerated villains to make it look bad.

As Douban reviewer Qingyun wrote:

💬 “Portraying devils as clowns diminishes their true guilt. The real criminals were rational, organized, and intelligent, embodying the will of Japanese militarism as a systematic project. Making them idiots (..) greatly underestimates the danger and organization of militarism, and is a severe simplification of history.”[13]

This critique goes further, suggesting the film both weakens its warning value (“the true terror is that advanced civilization and barbarism can coexist”) and cheapens the victims’ suffering (“if the enemy is so stupid, the tragedy seems less grave”).

On Weibo, one commenter criticized this one-sided approach:

💬 “I saw an auntie in Hangzhou who, after watching the movie 731, said she hated the Japanese devils so much — that she would hate them for her entire life. But this elderly woman, brainwashed by hatred education for a lifetime, doesn’t stop to think that (..) so many other brutal slaughters happened throughout Chinese history. If you only speak of hate, can your hate keep up with all of them? Shouldn’t we instead explore and reflect more deeply on the underlying causes of these events? Better to talk less of hate and more of love — because only the most genuine love from the depths of the human heart can ultimately prevent such tragedies from happening again.”[14]

Some viewers who appreciated the film, however, disagreed. One Weibo user wrote: “I watched the film with my husband and on our way home we scolded the Japanese, wishing we could throw two more atomic bombs on them. It was a good film.”

Between the history and the hate, the official narrative, the polarized audience reactions, and disagreements over the film’s message, 731 has brought more controversy than clarity.

But beyond the debate and confusion, one message remains clear. As one viewer wrote:

“The film wasn’t what I expected, but I’m not sure what I even expected? A good story? More like a documentary? There’s one thing I can say for sure: this movie is just a shell — the history itself is the soul.”[15]

By Manya Koetse

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.

References

  1. “看完有种被诈骗的感觉” (source: Douban).
  2. “一句话评价《731》,导演按照《肖申克的救赎》拍出了《鱿鱼游戏》” (source: Xiaohongshu).
  3. “令人非常迷惑” (source: Douban).
  4. “短评骂的字数不够了实在是忍不了了” (source: Douban).
  5. “作为一个哈尔滨人,去过至少三次纪念馆,731对于哈尔滨就是最沉痛的一段历史,这个电影用大量极其荒诞的镜头和音乐,讲述一个基本跟真实历史毫无关系的故事,所有真正需要拍出来的信息全部是文字一笔带过,最后却告诉观众勿忘历史?这是对731这段历史的践踏。弱智且下流” (Source: comment section Sina).
  6. “作为一个90后,我出生的那个年代卫生纸质量都达不到侵略者给实验体使用的,纸的质量太好了,又是编蝴蝶结,又是编鞋子的,我猜应该是坚韧又耐用,透水都不断的那种吧” (Source: Douban long reviews).
  7. “或许是删减太多或许是各种局限,当做越狱不精彩,当做历史片太随意,当做剧情片太碎片”(Source: Douban).
  8. “影片既想利用沉重历史的严肃性作为宣传噱头,又担心题材过于压抑影响票房,于是强行注入商业娱乐元素(搞笑、幻想、刺激场面)。这种“既要…又要…”的投机心态导致影片既失去了历史题材必需的敬畏感,又未能提供合格的娱乐体验。最终,它既冒犯了历史,也辜负了观众”(Source Douban, review by Qingyun (青云).
  9. “西方刻板印象东方主义日本与基督殉难的碰撞,cult片的杰出之作”(Source: Douban, review by ‘Bat Lord’ (蝙蝠君).
  10. “很明显也在致敬古罗马帝国时期殉道在斗兽场的圣徒们。最终主角团全员殉道,无一幸免。”
  11. “这个片作为主流主旋律商业大片是完全的,彻头彻尾的失败,彷佛那纯纯的依托!甚至从预告片开始这电影就没有任何一丝一毫的符合历史,我从一开始就完全没有抱任何期望的去看,结果发现这片作为小众邪典整蛊片却颇有可取之处(。。)当你不认为这片是正常电影之后,这片表达出的那股子真的是超正宗的外国视角下的刻板印象东方主义日本美学、东方朋克味,这种对日本文化的魔怔向的解构其实我个人还真感觉挺不错的。这种解构日本人是搞不出来的,目前只有欧美和中国能搞出来,代表作就是《最后的武士》、《对马岛》、《幕府将军》之类的作品,里面的日本文化,日本武士道精神一个赛一个魔怔,欧美是往骑士幻想的那个路子去走的,我们是往黑暗邪典的路子去走的“
  12. “所以这片的最大问题还是选择了731这个严肃题材,完全在消解历史的悲痛,消费民族的情感,拍了个小众邪典整蛊片后,还按照主流商业片来包装和宣发,如果他拍成半架空的超小成本黑色喜剧我觉得反噬恐怕不会有这么大”(Source: Douban).
  13. “它美化了真正的邪恶:将恶魔塑造成小丑,实际上减轻了他们的罪责。真实的731部队不是一群疯癫的傻瓜,而是清醒的、有组织的、高智商的罪犯。他们的行为是日本军国主义国家意志的体现,是一个系统性的工程。把他们拍得弱智,仿佛这场悲剧只是一群笨蛋造成的意外,这极大地低估了军国主义的危害性和组织性,是对历史的严重简化”(source: Douban).
  14. “看到一位杭州阿姨看完电影731后讲太恨日本鬼子了,要一辈子一辈子的恨。这个被仇恨教育洗脑一辈子的老太太,您也不思考一下,嘉定三屠,江东六十四屯,南京大屠杀等等一系列的野蛮屠杀事件在中国历史上发生的太多了,光讲恨您恨的过来吗?不应该是更多的探究和反省发生这些事的深层原因嘛!还是少谈恨多讲爱吧,只有发自心底人类最真实的爱才能最后解决这些惨案在人类世界的发生吧”(Source: Weibo).
  15. Weibo user “红屋顶上的猫”: “我不知道该怎么评。首先在这个忙乱的日子里安排自己去看这个电影,我也说不清楚我是想铭记那段历史,还是想比较小时候看过的《荒原城堡731》,还有那部《黑太阳》。其次我也不知道电影从越狱视角切入,写实和魔幻风格交替,是好还是不好?但它和我想象的不一样,可我也不知道自己想看到的到底是什么样?甚至我也说不清我对这场电影的期待是什么?讲好故事?还是拍成纪录片?我只能确定,电影只是个壳子,那段历史才是灵魂。”

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