“Lost in Translation”: Decoding the Divisive Reception of “Jiang Ziyou: Suspicion”
The highly anticipated all-star summer blockbuster, “Jiang Ziyou: Suspicion” (hereinafter referred to as “Jiang Ziyou”), has been met with a disappointing combination of poor reviews and lackluster box office performance. This film, boasting a budget exceeding 300 million yuan and featuring a star-studded cast of over 20 actors including Zhang Ziyi, Lei Jiayin, Zhao Liying, and Yang Mi, generated significant buzz prior to its release. However, current box office projections fall short of 500 million yuan, and its initial Douban score of 5.9 marks the lowest in director Chen Kexin’s career.
Poster of “Jiang Ziyou: Suspicion”
But is the film truly deserving of such harsh criticism? While “Jiang Ziyou” showcases considerable skill in its visual aesthetics and acting performances, a clear “disconnect” exists between the director’s artistic vision and audience expectations. The film attempts to establish a profound connection between historical context and the fate of women, using the era as a lens through which to understand their plight. However, many viewers were anticipating a more dramatically charged “wife-killing” narrative that boldly asserted female agency. The all-star cast, intended as a box office draw, has been criticized for diluting the story due to the sheer number of characters and their dispersed screen time, with accusations of actors “adding scenes for their roles.” The resulting fan wars over screen time and performances have further damaged the film’s reputation. The decision to split the narrative into two parts, aimed at improving pacing, has instead been criticized as a “lengthy trailer” due to the lack of a clear climax and overall sense of completion.
In a thriving film industry, such “disconnects” might be tolerated. However, in today’s increasingly critical film environment, even minor misalignments can lead to a film’s “downfall” in public opinion. This reflects a common dilemma facing Chinese cinema today, as screenwriter Song Fangjin observed: “The film industry is now in a dire situation, characterized by: 1. A pervasive sense that films are being discussed with a jaded, seen-it-all-before attitude; 2. Group criticism of films has become the norm, with people readily and righteously condemning films whether they’ve seen them or not; 3. Fan culture has deeply infiltrated film reviews, influencing public opinion; 4. Creators are at a loss, unsure how to retain their audience.”
A Wife-Killing Tale or a Critique of an Era?
“Jiang Ziyou” is adapted from a real-life wife-killing case that occurred in Shanghai in 1945. In March of that year, Zhan Zhou, residing on the second floor of 85 Jiang Ziyou Alley, murdered her husband, Zhan Yunying, with a kitchen knife and dismembered his body, placing the remains in a suitcase. Blood dripping from the floor onto the residents below led to the discovery of the crime. The “Jiang Ziyou Alley Wife-Killing Case” quickly became a sensation in Shanghai, with extensive coverage in newspapers and widespread public discussion.
A scene from “Jiang Ziyou: Suspicion”
Zhan Zhou, originally from Danyang, Jiangsu Province, was orphaned at a young age and worked as a servant in Shanghai from the age of nine. At 21, she was betrothed to Zhan Yunying, a pawnshop clerk, by her master. After their marriage, Zhan Yunying became addicted to gambling, had numerous affairs, and subjected her to domestic violence. To make ends meet, she wanted to work in a cigarette factory, but her husband forbade it, and the family’s possessions were sold off. On the night of the murder, nine years of pent-up resentment exploded, and she committed the crime. Initial public opinion overwhelmingly condemned Zhan Zhou, with the media portraying her as a “modern-day Pan Jinlian,” speculating that she must have had an accomplice, as a frail woman could not possibly have killed her tall husband. In May 1945, the court sentenced Zhan Zhou to death in the first instance, seemingly concluding the case with the “execution of a wicked woman.”
However, Shanghai female writer Su Qing stepped forward, publishing an article titled “In Defense of the Wife-Killer” in a magazine in June 1945. In it, she detailed her own experiences: losing her parents at a young age, being forced into marriage, her husband’s affair two months after their wedding, domestic violence, helping her husband deal with his mistresses, and a failed suicide attempt. Su Qing argued that Zhan Zhou was a woman trapped by outdated ideologies, with no other option but to kill her husband, and called for a re-evaluation of her sentence. Guan Lu published “Zhan Zhou and Pan Jinlian,” criticizing the notion that “adulterous women deserve to die.” More and more people began to sympathize with Zhan Zhou. As social conditions became increasingly turbulent, Japan’s defeat in August 1945 and the collapse of the Wang puppet regime brought a turning point to the case. Zhan Zhou’s wife-killing case was in the appeal stage, and the death sentence had not yet been carried out. The Nationalist government took over and re-examined the case. With the support of lawyers and concerned individuals, Zhan Zhou continued to appeal. In February 1948, the court finally changed Zhan Zhou’s sentence from death to 15 years in prison.
Many viewers expected “Jiang Ziyou” to be an inspiring story of female awakening – how an oppressed woman, pushed to her breaking point, rises up in resistance, moving from resignation to defiance, and how she fights for justice with the support of other women. While the film contains elements of this female narrative, it aims to be more than just that. It tells the story of a wife-killing that took place in 1945, with the “era” serving as another protagonist. Shanghai at that time was in a unique period, with the end of the war, the change of regime, and the clash of ideologies, all intertwined. Zhan Zhou’s murder and initial death sentence occurred when the Wang puppet regime was already crumbling and Japan’s defeat was imminent. In August, Japan surrendered, the Wang puppet regime collapsed, and social order was in turmoil. It was this chaos that opened a path for Zhan Zhou’s survival – the judicial vacuum created by the change of regime made a subsequent reversal possible.
As Chen Kexin stated in an interview, “What I want to convey in the film is not the suspense and oddity of the event, but that the great era changed, allowing this person to survive… The reason Zhan Zhou was released was not because she was innocent, but because of political reasons. She survived…” This is the creative intention of “Jiang Ziyou” – to intertwine Zhan Zhou’s fate with the great changes of the era, where the shifting tides of the times cause individual destinies to rise and fall, with life and death carrying a great deal of contingency.
The Era and its Discontents
To reflect this sense of era, the film portrays a rich ensemble of characters. Lei Jiayin plays Xue Zhiwu, the deputy director of the Japanese puppet police bureau, representing the corrupt power system in its final days. His “obsession” with Zhan Zhou is not incomprehensible, as he has always been self-centered and intolerant of dissent. He cannot believe that someone would dare to defy him and cause him to lose face, yet still survive. He is willing to do anything to have Zhan Zhou killed, as he cannot “lose.” This is the madness of a man at the end of his rope. He abuses his power, using public authority as an extension of feudal patriarchy, suppressing women and all the weak. Li Xian plays Xiao Hubei Zhang Baofu, a microcosm of some of the men at the bottom of society. He makes a living by lending money and acting as a matchmaker, introducing Zhan Zhou to work, only to turn around and use it to blackmail her, taking advantage of her. He gains a false sense of power by trampling on more vulnerable women, only to be crushed by the upper class, his life and death decided by a single word from Xue Zhiwu. This is a microcosm of the dog-eat-dog rules of the old society, where power is like a net, oppressing the weak from top to bottom – women are beaten by their husbands, and no one cares; they are wronged by power, and have nowhere to turn. Although Xue Zhiwu’s fate, like that of the Wang puppet regime, is to collapse, the terrifying core of unrestricted power remains the same, and will not disappear with Xue Zhiwu’s downfall.
A scene from “Jiang Ziyou: Suspicion”
Yang Mi’s Wang Xumei provides a contrasting fate to Zhan Zhou. She was originally a literate dancer in Shanghai who was imprisoned for protecting a “political prisoner.” In a chaotic world, she uses the so-called three treasures of a woman – “brains, breasts, and belly” – as weapons for survival. She has “brains,” turning newspaper news into intelligence and even predicting the defeat of the Japanese army by analyzing the situation. She is well aware of male power’s desire for women’s bodies, and “breasts” are her bargaining chips for exchanging newspapers, food, and other resources with the warden. “Belly” is her last resort for survival. In 1945, with the defeat of the Japanese army imminent, she realized the potential purge that could come with the change of regime, so she tried to obtain a suspended sentence by faking a pregnancy. Her tragedy lies in the fact that even though she is well-versed in the rules of patriarchal society, using everything about women as a resource to exchange for survival opportunities, she ultimately falls on the eve of dawn, because in that chaotic doomsday, the era is a “capricious hand.” Zhan Zhou survived because of the turbulent situation, while Wang Xumei was hastily executed due to the same turbulence. Although women’s situations have the same source of sin, their life and death sometimes differ only by chance. This chance is the inevitability of the systematic oppression of women in the old era, and the powerlessness and sorrow of individuals in the face of the wheels of history.
Shen Jiani’s cameo as Wu Ling, the editor-in-chief of the newspaper, also survived because of “chance.” She is an intellectual who pursues the truth and was imprisoned for insisting on exposing the darkness of the Wang puppet regime. Yin Fang plays Zhang Yan, the deputy editor-in-chief, who appears to be Wu Ling’s colleague but secretly relies on the powerful. He tries to bribe Xue Zhiwu with five gold bars, hoping to get him to kill Wu Ling in prison to eliminate future troubles. Xue Zhiwu released Wu Ling after humiliating her, not because Xue Zhiwu was patriotic or admired the integrity of intellectuals, but because in his negotiations with Zhang Yan, five gold bars were for releasing people, and ten gold bars were for killing people. Wu Ling’s life or death also depends on the whim of the person in power.
Zhan Zhou’s murder of her husband, and her subsequent refusal to confess, is the eruption of female subjectivity when squeezed to the limit. But when the manifestation of this subjectivity ultimately relies on the gaps in the change of regime and the turbulence of the judicial system – the key to the reversal of the sentence does not lie in the logic of guilt or innocence, resistance or non-resistance, but depends on the change of regime and the whim of the powerful – the absurdity of the era is completely torn open. This is not the dissolution of female subjectivity, but a sharper critique of the chaotic/doomsday world.
The film’s critique of the era is “misaligned” with the expectations of many viewers. This is not the fault of the creators, nor is it the fault of the audience, but rather a difference in focus. This “misalignment” is a normal difference between creation and reception. Unfortunately, some critics believe that the film is “exploiting female hot topics,” “consuming women,” and “taking advantage of women,” and accusations against the film have become the main axis of some discussions, so viewers are even less willing to understand the creators’ expression.
Adding Scenes for Stars or Stars Serving the Roles?
Before its release, what attracted attention to “Jiang Ziyou” was not only the plot, but also its cast list – Zhang Ziyi, Lei Jiayin, Zhao Liying, Yang Mi, Yi Yangqianxi, Wang Chuanjun, Mei Ting, Dapeng, Li Xian, and so on, bringing together half of the film and television industry. “All-star lineups” are not uncommon in domestic films, and the combination of big directors, big productions, and big stars has always been a box office guarantee.
The most direct benefit of an all-star lineup is to increase box office appeal. Viewers may walk into the theater because they like a certain actor. When a film brings together multiple popular stars, the attraction naturally increases exponentially. All-star films are also more likely to generate topical discussions, making film promotion twice as effective with half the effort. From a creative perspective, an all-star lineup can enrich character performances, and the chemistry between good actors can sometimes make up for the shortcomings of the script… In the current film market, which continues to face the impact of streaming media and audience aesthetic fatigue, producers still tend to use star power to fill the uncertainty of investment, and viewers are more easily attracted by familiar faces when choosing films. This inertia of supply and demand makes the all-star strategy still dominate in domestic blockbusters. Of course, the all-star strategy also has controversies, such as high star salaries may squeeze production costs; some films rely on star auras and ignore script polishing; and as audience aesthetics improve, films that simply rely on stars to support the scene are becoming increasingly difficult to succeed… Therefore, film companies now pay more attention to the matching degree between actors and roles, and strive to balance star effects and content quality.
A scene from “Jiang Ziyou: Suspicion”
The all-star lineup of “Jiang Ziyou” is a product of this market trend. As a film with high investment, the star effect can expand the film’s topicality and open up the market as much as possible. Using a large number of stars is also a creative feature of Chen Kexin. From “Comrades, Almost a Love Story” and “American Dreams in China” to “Perhaps Love,” “The Warlords,” and “Leap,” each of his films is like an all-star feast in the Chinese film industry. Unlike some directors who treat stars as vases, Chen Kexin is good at digging out the unknown characteristics of stars. Under his lens, those stereotyped faces show new possibilities. This ability to turn stone into gold makes his all-star lineup not just a commercial gimmick, but a highlight. Moreover, combined with the creative intention of “Jiang Ziyou,” the background of the wife-killing case is Shanghai in 1945, involving multiple classes such as police, reporters, inmates, neighbors, and dignitaries. Restoring that mixed era requires a large number of characters to fill it, and the all-star strategy is also reasonable. Because only the first part has been released, many characters are not complete due to too few scenes, but in terms of actor performance, no one in the all-star lineup of “Jiang Ziyou” is obviously dragging their feet.
However, some viewers cannot accept the film’s ensemble narrative, which is also the first misalignment described above. At this time, viewers inevitably question: Is it the film’s ensemble narrative that requires so many stars to play, or is it because these big stars were invited, so these characters were created and these scenes were added, so that the narrative of Zhan Zhou was diluted and diluted? This is the second “misalignment” of the film.
This kind of questioning comes with a “correct” halo in an environment where stars are constantly collapsing and public opinion requires stars to become “moral models” – scolding capital manipulation and traffic supremacy can both vent emotions and be very safe. Some netizens prejudicially believe that these star roles are all forcibly stuffed in. Once this view becomes mainstream, any shortcomings of the film will be attributed to “too many stars stuffed in, ruining a good story.” Whether you have seen the film or not, scolding the film’s all-star lineup is a common social currency.
What the film company did not expect was the full participation of fan circle culture in the film evaluation system, and even gradually becoming a key force in influencing public opinion. This phenomenon is particularly prominent in the publicity process of “Jiang Ziyou.” From the beginning of the official announcement, the fans of the two post-85s female stars launched a fierce competition around roles, positions, and other issues. After the film was released, this battle quickly spread to the public evaluation field of the film. “Technical posts” comparing acting skills are full of social platforms, but the core purpose is not objective discussion, but to compete for the right to speak for the “highlight moments” of their own idols. The fans of the losing side even gave the film a one-star rating, and their logic has evolved into “rather destroy the work than let the opponent profit.” The film company originally expected star traffic to be transformed into market popularity, but did not expect fans to lead the disaster to the film itself, confirming the accusation that “stars ruined the film,” and further involving the film in the vortex of public opinion.
Splitting into Two Parts: At the Expense of Completeness?
The promotion process of “Jiang Ziyou” has been full of twists and turns. In 2015, Chen Kexin read the story of Zhan Zhou’s murder of her husband and wanted to adapt it into a film. He quickly contacted Zhang Ziyi, hoping that she would play the heroine Zhan Zhou, and Zhang Ziyi agreed. However, at that time, the commercial film market did not accommodate crime films, and the project was suspended. During the epidemic, Chen Kexin felt that the story volume was suitable for making a 4-6 episode TV series, with a length of 4-5 hours, using film techniques to make a fine-packed drama. However, due to the obstruction of the long-length model of domestic dramas, it was changed back to a film, and the content was deleted before shooting was started. In 2023, the crew found a century-old alley in the downtown area of Shanghai and started shooting. In May 2024, the film was shortlisted for the non-competition unit of the Cannes Film Festival.
However, the 150-minute version screened in Cannes caused controversy. Many film critics pointed out that the film’s narrative rhythm was unbalanced, and Xue Zhiwu’s scenes were too many, even overshadowing Zhan Zhou’s growth line, so that Zhang Ziyi publicly expressed her dissatisfaction with the deletion of scenes at the press conference in Cannes. The film was not released while the iron was hot during the summer season last year. The film company re-edited the film based on market feedback from Cannes, and finally split the film into two parts. The currently released “Jiang Ziyou: Suspicion” is the first part, with a length of 96 minutes. Behind this move are both considerations for the integrity of the film and a balance of market risks. As repeatedly mentioned in the previous article, the film wants to show the era picture of Shanghai in 1945, and Zhan Zhou’s fate is a microcosm of the era. If it is made into a film, the length is limited, and many contents are difficult to present completely. The controversy caused by the 150-minute version in Cannes is enough to show that if it is forcibly compressed into a film, the shaping of characters and the rendering of the atmosphere of the era will be sacrificed, which is not worth the loss. If it is released in a hurry, the audience will scold it anyway. Moreover, from a market perspective, a two-and-a-half-hour film will be affected by the screening schedule and audience acceptance. Therefore, splitting it into two parts can not only ensure the integrity of the story, but also attract audiences through the first part to warm up for the second part and strive for the maximization of benefits.
But the side effects are also obvious. Compared with series films such as “The Battle at Lake Changjin” and “The Volunteers,” they clearly divided into two parts from the beginning, and the audience had psychological expectations. “Jiang Ziyou” was originally a film, but it was temporarily split into two parts to “remedy” it. The end of the first part did not reach the climax of the plot, and the suspense was unresolved, such as how Zhan Zhou killed her husband, whether the police found the head, and how Zhan Zhou escaped the death sentence. This kind of “truncation” has caused the film to be criticized by some viewers as a “super-long trailer,” and even many people believe that the film’s move is to “make money twice.” This is another “misalignment.” The motivation for the film to be released in two parts cannot be summarized by a negative “making money” label.
From another perspective, “Jiang Ziyou: Suspicion” is not incomplete. It has shown Zhan Zhou’s process from resignation to awakening (although the presentation effect varies from person to person), and also created the oppressive atmosphere of Shanghai in 1945 through various characters from all walks of life. The second part will focus on the change of regime after the war and the turning point in Zhan Zhou’s fate, which more fully reflects that Zhan Zhou’s “escape from death” originated from the “chance” of the era. Therefore, despite the constant controversy in the first part, some viewers and film critics still call for “waiting for the second part before making a judgment.” This kind of ensemble narrative of the great era needs the length of the two parts to be fully unfolded.
The question is, can today’s film public opinion environment accommodate such “misalignment”? Is the public willing to give patience?
A scene from “Jiang Ziyou: Suspicion”
After the Spring Festival, the domestic film market seems to have been put on slow speed. The box office of many new films has been cold, and the public opinion field is also filled with anxiety. In this depression, the experience of “Jiang Ziyou” is particularly glaring, and it also reflects the deep predicament of the current film market. In particular, the current film public opinion field has become a gladiatorial arena, and the audience’s tolerance for the “misalignment” of films is getting lower and lower. Short videos are reshaping the audience’s entertainment habits, and entertainment forms such as long videos and movies are encountering huge impacts, making it increasingly difficult for movies to attract audiences. The hostility of the online world has made stars the carrier of hostile emotions, and complaining about movies has become a safe outlet. Whether you have seen it or not, following the trend and scolding a “bad movie” can make you seem sober, and criticizing movies in groups has become a trend. The opposition of fan circles has also made film public opinion more and more extreme, and no one cares more about the quality of the film itself… With all these factors mixed together, more and more viewers are leaving the cinema, and creators are becoming more and more cautious – too commercial is scolded for being vulgar, too artistic is嫌晦涩, using stars is a gimmick, using a large number of stars causes fan confrontation, and not using stars is not attractive… Creators are in a dilemma, and audiences who like movies have also lost the space to watch movies and discuss them properly.
“Jiang Ziyou” is trapped in such a public opinion maze, and this is not just its experience. Can the next part of “Jiang Ziyou” break through the public opinion siege? No one knows the answer. But what is certain is that if the public opinion situation of domestic films is so harsh, “group criticism of films has become the norm” and “fan circles are deeply involved in film evaluation,” and box office failures become the norm, this will be a profound crisis for the film industry. It is hoped that creators can calm down and polish their works, minimize “misalignment” as much as possible (especially using star strategies appropriately and predicting possible fan circle chaos), and also hope that audiences can be more tolerant, “open the microphone” after watching the movie, and let the discussion return to the film itself, rather than acting as “moral police” and being eager to make value judgments on the film. Only when creation and public opinion become mature can domestic films truly take steps and move towards a broader path.