For a long time, Chinese netizens have criticized how photography of Chinese news events by Western outlets—from BBC and CNN to AFP—makes China look more gloomy or intimidating. During this year’s military parade, the so-called “AFP filter” once again became a hot topic—and perhaps not in the way you’d expect.

In the past week following the military parade, Chinese social media remained filled with discussions about the much-anticipated September 3 V-Day parade, a spectacle that had been hyped for weeks and watched by millions across the country.

That morning, Chinese leader Xi Jinping, accompanied by his wife Peng Liyuan, welcomed international guests on the red carpet. When Xi arrived at Tiananmen Square alongside Russian President Vladimir Putin and North Korean leader Kim Jong-un, office phone calls across the country quieted, and school classes paused to tune in to one of China’s largest-ever military parades along Chang’an Avenue in Beijing, held to commemorate China’s victory over Japan in the Second Sino-Japanese War and World War II.

As tanks rolled and jets thundered overhead, and state media outlets such as People’s Daily and Xinhua livestreamed the entire event, many different details—from what happened on Tiananmen Square to who attended, and what happened before and after, both online and offline—captured the attention of netizens.

Amid all the discussions online, one particularly hot conversation was about the visual coverage of the event, and focused on AFP (法新社), Agence France Press, the global news agency headquartered in Paris.

Typing “AFP” (法新社) into Weibo in the days after the parade pulled up a long list of hashtags:

• Has AFP released their shots yet?
• V-Day Parade through AFP’s lens
• AFP’s god-tier photo
• Did AFP show up for the parade?

 
The fixation may seem odd—why would Chinese netizens care so much about a French news agency?

Popular queries centered on AFP.

The story actually goes back to 2022.

In July of that year, on the anniversary of the Communist Party’s founding, one Weibo influencer (@Jokielicious) noted that while domestic photographers portrayed the celebrations as bright and triumphant, she personally preferred the darker, almost menacing image of Beijing captured by Western journalists. In her view, through their lens, China appeared more powerful—even a little terrifying.

The original post.

The post went viral. Soon, netizens began comparing more of China’s state media photos with those from Western outlets. One photo in particular stood out: Xinhua’s casual, cheerful shot of Chinese soldiers contrasted sharply with AFP’s cold, almost cinematic frame.

Same event, different vibe. Chinese social media users compared these photos of Xinhua (top) versus AFP (down). AFP photo shot by Fred Dufour.

Netizens joked that Xinhua had made the celebration look like the opening of a new hotel, while AFP had cast it as “the dawn of an empire.”

Gradually, what began as a dig at the bad aesthetics of state media turned into something else: a subtle shift in how Chinese netizens were rethinking their country’s international image.

Under the hashtag #ChinaThroughOthersLens (#老中他拍), netizens shared images of China as seen through the lenses of various Western media outlets.

This wasn’t the first time such talk had appeared. In the early days of the Chinese internet, people often spoke of the so-called “BBC filter.” The idea was that the BBC habitually put footage of China under a grayish filter, making its visuals give off a vibe of repression and doom, which many felt was at odds with the actual vibrancy on the ground. To them, it was proof that the West was bent on painting China as backward and gloomy.

These discussions have continued in recent years.

For example, on Weibo there were debates about a photo of the Wuhan Institute of Virology, shot by Peter Thomas for Reuters, and used in various Western media reports about Wuhan and Covid as early as 2021. The top image shows the photographer’s vantage point.

“Looks like a cockroach in the gutter,” one popular comment described it.

Top image by Chinese media, lower image by Peter Thomas/Reuters, and was used in various Western media reports about Wuhan and Covid since as early as 2021.

Another example is the alleged “smog filter” applied by Western media outlets to Beijing skies during the China visit of US Secretary of State Antony Blinken in 2024.

The alleged “smog filter” applied to Beijing skies during Blinken’s visit. Top image: Chinese media. Middle: BBC. Lower: Washington Post.

AFP, meanwhile, seemed to offer a different kind of ‘distortion.’

Netizens said AFP’s photos often had a low-saturation, high-contrast, solemn tone, with wide angles that made the scenes feel oppressive yet majestic. Over time, any photo with that look—whether taken by AFP or not—was dubbed the “AFP filter” (法新社滤镜).

AFP has clarified multiple times that many of the viral examples weren’t even theirs—or that they were, but had been altered with an extra dark filter. They also refuted claims that AFP had published a photo series of Chinese soldiers titled “Dawn of Empire” to discredit China’s army.

AFP refuted claims that their photos discredited the Chinese army.

Nevertheless, the “AFP filter” label stuck. It became shorthand for a Western gaze that cast China not as impoverished or broken—as some claimed the “BBC filter” did—but as formidable, like a looming supervillain.

One running joke summed it up neatly: domestic shots are the festive version; Western shots are the red-tyrant version. And increasingly, netizens admitted they preferred the latter, commenting that while AFP shots often emphasize red to suggest authoritarianism, they actually like the red and what it stands for.

So, when this year’s V-Day came around, many were eager to see how AFP and other Western outlets would frame China as the dark, dangerous empire.

But when the photos dropped, the reaction was muted. They looked average. Some called them “disappointing.” “Where are the dark angles? Not doing it this time?” one blogger wondered. “Where’s the AFP hotline? I’d like to file a complaint!”

“Xinhua actually beat you this time,” some commented on AFP’s official Weibo account. Others agreed, putting the AFP photos and Xinhua photos side by side.

AFP photos on the left versus Xinhua photos on the right.

To make up for the letdown, people began editing the photos themselves—darkening the tones, adding dramatic shadows, and proudly labeling them with the tag “AFP filter” or calling it “The September 3rd Military Parade Through a AFP Lens” (法新社滤镜下的9.3阅兵). “Now that’s the right vibe,” they said: “I fixed it for you!”

Netizen @哔哔机 “AFP-fied” photos of the military parade by AFP.

Official media quickly picked up on the trend. Xinhua rolled out its own hashtags—#XinhuaAlwaysDeliversEpicShots (#新华社必出神图的决心#) and #XinhuaWins (#新华社秒了#)—and positioned itself as the true master of a new aesthetic narrative.

The message was clear: China no longer needs the Western gaze to frame itself as powerful or intimidating; it can do that on its own.

The “AFP v Xinhua” contest, the online movement to “AFP-ify” visuals, and the Chinese fandom around AFP’s moodier shots may have been wrapped in jokes and memes, but they also pointed to something deeper: the once “demonized” image of China that Western media pushed as threatening is now not only accepted by Chinese netizens, it’s embraced. Many have made it part of a confident, playful form of online patriotism, applauding the idea of being seen by the West as fearsome, even villainous, believing it amplifies China’s global authority.

As one netizen wrote: “I like it when we look like we crawl straight into their nightmares.”

Chinese journalist Kai Lei (@凯雷) suggested that these kinds of trends showed how the Chinese public plays an increasingly proactive role in shaping China’s global image.

By now, the AFP meme has become so strong that it doesn’t even require AFP anymore. Ultra-dramatic shots are simply called “AFP-level photos” (法新社级别).

For now, as many are enjoying the “afterglow” of the military parade, their appreciation for the AFP-style only seems to grow. As one Weibo user summed it up: “AFP tried to create a sense of oppression with dark, low-angle shots, but instead only strengthened the Chinese military’s aura of majesty.”

 
– By Ruixin Zhang and Manya Koetse
 

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When one film breaks a record in China, the previous champion often celebrates with a playful and creative congratulatory poster. It’s a uniquely Chinese mix of solidarity, box-office success, and internet culture.

China’s 2025 summer box office season has been a success, surpassing 10 billion yuan (~US$1.4 billion), driven by record-breaking domestic films that have also made waves on Chinese social media.

Somewhat unexpectedly, the Chinese 2D animated feature Nobody (浪浪山小妖怪) has emerged as the season’s breakout hit.

On August 11, Nobody overtook the total earnings of the 2016 hit Big Fish & Begonia (大鱼海棠), also a domestically produced animation, becoming the highest-grossing domestic 2D animated film in Chinese history.

In keeping with industry tradition, Big Fish & Begonia celebrated the milestone by releasing a congratulatory poster on its official Weibo account.

The poster shows the quirky characters of Nobody sitting on top of a giant red flower, while the protagonists of Big Fish & Begonia cheer them on from below. Written in bold calligraphy (“浪浪山冲鸭!”) is a playful phrase to cheer the movie on (translatable as: “Go, Langlang Mountain!” [Langlang Mountain is the original Chinese title.])

This is a unique “tradition” in China’s film industry: whenever a movie breaks a box-office record—no matter the category—the previous record-holder pays tribute by releasing a specially designed “congratulatory poster” in a gesture of camaraderie.

These posters are usually shared through the official Weibo accounts of the former champions, as it is common for Chinese film and TV drama productions to have their own accounts on Weibo.

 
Origins of the Poster Relay in China
 

The tradition of the so-called “box-office champion poster relay” (票房冠军海报接力) in China dates back to 2015, when Xu Zheng’s hit Lost in Thailand (泰囧)—which had held the record for highest-grossing domestic film since 2012 with a box office of 1.267 billion yuan (~US$200M)—was overtaken by Monster Hunt (捉妖记), which went on to gross 2.44 billion yuan (~US$340M).

Director Xu Zheng, who also starred in Lost in Thailand, took the initiative to release a humorous congratulatory poster for Monster Hunt. In the image, the little monster Huba (胡巴) is shown dancing on Xu’s bald head, accompanied by the text: “Lost in Thailand congratulates Monster Hunt on topping the Chinese box office.”

The poster that started a tradition.

Then, in 2016, Stephen Chow’s The Mermaid (美人鱼) surpassed Monster Hunt with a box office take of over 2.44 billion yuan (~US$340M). In response, the Monster Hunt team also released a congratulatory poster showing its main character Huba transformed into a mermaid, gazing up at the tail of The Mermaid.

The text on the poster reads: “Xing Ye (星爷) reaches the top, and Huba comes to congratulate him” — Xing Ye being Stephen Chow’s well-known nickname in Chinese. The vertical text on the right quoted lyrics from The Mermaid’s theme song: “You ask if this mountain is the highest in the world — there are always mountains higher than the other.”

Monster Hunt had been congratulated for its own win; now it was its turn to congratulate The Mermaid.

The relay continued in 2017 when Wolf Warrior 2 (战狼2) became the first Chinese film to cross the 5-billion-yuan mark (~US$700M), topping the chart. The Mermaid sent its congratulations with a poster featuring the Mermaid placing a crown on Wu Jing (吴京), the director and star of Wolf Warrior 2.

Caption: The Mermaid’s congratulatory poster for Wolf Warrior 2 in 2017. The text at the top reads: “When the nation is prosperous and the people are strong, the Mermaid shares in the honor.”

 
Beyond the Championship
 

Over time, the tradition expanded. Films that were overtaken in the rankings, even if it was not a change of the championship, also began releasing congratulatory posters.

In 2019, the animated sensation Ne Zha 1 (哪吒之魔童降世) surpassed a string of blockbusters, including Monster Hunt, Operation Red Sea (红海行动), and The Wandering Earth (流浪地球), to become the second-highest-grossing Chinese film at the time. Each of these films then sent their own tribute to “Little Nezha.”

A hand-drawn congratulatory poster by Xu Chengyi (许诚毅), the director of Monster Hunt, said: “We are all little monsters, free and easy together,” as a slight twist on Nezha’s classic line from the movie.

Congratulatory posters by Monster Hunt and Operation Red Sea to celebrate the success of Ne Zha in 2019.

The congratulatory poster by Operation Red Sea to Ne Zha 1 in 2019 also included a reference to The Bravest (烈火英雄), another film from the same producer, Bona Film Group, released at the same time as Ne Zha 1. In doing so, Bona used the popularity of Ne Zha 1 to promote its own new film at the same time.

Congratulatory poster by Guo Fan(郭帆), director of The Wandering Earth.

In 2019, Guo Fan (郭帆), the director of The Wandering Earth (流浪地球), hand-drew a congratulatory poster for Ne Zha. The illustration featured playful artwork accompanied by the text: “Little Nezha, now it’s your turn!”

Ne Zha also set a milestone for Chinese animation in an international context, earning 1.834 billion yuan (~US$260M) within nine days and reclaiming the animated film box office record in China from Zootopia.

Coloroom Pictures, the producer of Ne Zha and other Chinese animated hits, marked the achievement with a poster that both celebrated the unity of China’s animation community and acknowledged the challenges that still lay ahead, writing: “Chinese animation has taken a big step forward, but it is still just starting out.”

The poster features dozens of Chinese anime characters in formal dress, with Little Nezha standing in front of them and looking back.

These kinds of online congratulatory wishes, resonating with netizens, continued in 2021 when Hi, Mom (你好,李焕英) climbed to second place in China’s all-time box office.

Ne Zha 1 then released a hand-drawn poster showing Nezha sitting on the back of his mother’s bicycle, vowing to make something of himself—a promise fulfilled four years later when Ne Zha 2 actually surpassed Hi, Mom in early 2025.

Ne Zha 1’s congratulatory poster to Hi, Mom in 2021. The poster depicted a scene in front of Chentangguan Cinema where Hi, Mom is being shown, with Nezha sitting on the back seat of his mother’s bicycle (a classic scene in Hi, Mom’s promotion poster), vowing, “Mom, I will surely make something of myself when I grow up.”

In return, Hi, Mom published a poster in a matching style to response Ne Zha’s congratulatory poster in 2021.

Hi, Mom’s congratulatory poster to Ne Zha 2 in 2025, in which Nezha’s mother and the mother from Hi, Mom sitting together and applauding for the success of Ne Zha 2, saying, “Look! Our children are all promising.”]

All these exchanges have created unexpected interactions between vastly different movie genres.

In November 2021, when the war epic The Battle at Lake Changjin (长津湖) surpassed Chinese animation feature Ne Zha 1, the congratulatory poster released by Ne Zha 1 depicted Nezha alongside volunteer army soldiers, gazing at rockets, fighter jets, and satellites.

Ne Zha 1’s congratulatory poster to The Battle at Lake Changjin in 2021.

In 2025, when Ne Zha 2 seized the all-time box-office crown, The Battle at Lake Changjin also responded with a creative image.

The Battle at Lake Changjin’s congratulatory poster to Ne Zha 2 in 2025.

In that image, Nezha’s magical weapon the Hun Tian Ling (混天绫) was ingeniously linked to the red scarf thrown to soldiers in The Battle at Lake Changjin. At the bottom, a soldier’s large hand is shown in a lifting gesture, holding Nezha up.

The concept of such a serious war movie interacting with a humorous animated film sparked some excitement among Chinese netizens at the time. They saw the exchange as a dialogue between traditional mythology and modern history, and as a symbol of the continuity and success of China’s film industry.

 
A Unique Chinese Tradition?
 

The custom of one film “passing on the torch” to the next hit film through a congratulatory message is not entirely unique to China. The practice can actually be traced back to Hollywood.

In 1977, when Star Wars dethroned Jaws at the North American box office, director Steven Spielberg congratulated George Lucas with a full-page ad in Variety, humorously depicting R2-D2 reeling in the great white shark.

When Star Wars was dethroned by Titanic at the global box office in 1998, George Lucas sent a famous congratulatory message to James Cameron, again as a full-page ad in Variety.

Star Wars meets Titanic, famous congratulatory message to James Cameron .

In May 2019, when Avengers: Endgame officially overtook Titanic’s worldwide box office total to become the second-highest-grossing film of all time (behind Avatar), James Cameron — director of both Titanic (1997) and Avatar (2009) — posted a congratulatory image to salute Marvel Studios.

James Cameron on Twitter in May 2019.

So, although the practice of “passing the torch” among box office record-holders is not uniquely Chinese, the way it has developed in China is very distinct:

🔹 In Hollywood, box-office champions often hold the crown for years, and the ‘changing of the guards’ is relatively rare. In China, however, the industry has flourished mainly in the past decade, and records are broken far more frequently.

🔹 Social media has become central to promotion and marketing. Virtually all major Chinese films run active official accounts that not only post promotional material but also engage in playful interactions with other productions.

🔹 In Hollywood, congratulatory notes tend to come from individual directors, who salute each other as “friendly competitors.” In China, the messages are sent from the films’ official accounts, presenting it more as team-to-team recognition.

🔹 In that sense, it’s not just “movie versus movie,” but rather the Chinese film industry collectively measuring itself against Hollywood and other foreign hits. Each congratulatory poster is therefore not only a celebration of a new record, but also a statement of pride in the broader success of Chinese cinema.

🔹 Participation is not limited to the very top box-office leaders; other productions often join in, creating a ripple effect of collective celebration.

In China, the frequent turnover of box-office leaders combined with the creativity of these posters has turned the practice into a beloved feature of both film culture and the social media landscape.

In an earlier online poll, a majority of respondents described the tradition as “encouraging, and a demonstration of solidarity in China’s film industry.” Others called it a form of “romantic etiquette” unique to Chinese cinema.

Most importantly, it simply feels good — a win-win for both older and newer productions. As one netizen wrote after seeing the congratulatory artwork from Big Fish & Begonia’s official account: “I was inspired and hope that these little monsters can give everyone the courage to set out on their journeys, as well as the strength and passion to pursue their dreams. I hope domestic animation will keep getting better and better!”

By Wendy Huang
Edited by Manya Koetse

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