The Popularity of Niu Lai Shows the Sheer Complexity of the Contemporary Pop Culture Mentality

A mother-and-son team, a budget of less than USD 1,000, and five years of handmade graphic work on secondhand computers, and a production company that used to be a house decoration firm...by now, the story of Niu Lai has become well-known not just in China but around the world. The summer "blockbuster" and allegedly the most profitable film in the history of cinema has certainly come a long way from its initial reputation for terrible animation, monotone dialogues, and an almost entirely nonsensical plot that attracted wholesale ridicule.

But as the film makes its way around the world, attracting ever-more people curious to see just how bad it can possibly be, its dubious success also showcases the wider debate of what is "cultural" in modern-day pop culture, both within China and beyond. On the one hand, many critics have interpreted the success of the film as a collective middle finger for the Chinese film industry that has become too obsessed with patriotic narratives, big-budget computer graphics, and well-paid celebrities. Beneath the ridicule is also tacit support for grassroots efforts that do not rely on any of these.

On the other hand, many have even come to a more sinister conclusion. One strand of thought concerns the cultural desert that is modern-day China. These critics allege that Niu Lai's dialogue actually contains multiple references to classical philosophies that its young audience simply overlooked because of their ignorance. The emphasis on the quiet sophistication of the film serves as a criticism that modern education, whether it be the state-delivered classroom kind or the private sector-delivered social media one, is failing the next generation.

The other strand of thought is more moral than intellectual. Despite knowing the story behind the film, people have not stopped ridiculing it, showing up to theaters not to admire how the inexperienced can achieve so much with so few resources, but to keep laughing at an effort that most of them have never taken. To these critics, such behavior shows the prevalence of a "crab mentality" that permeates an overly competitive society that is now too busy to bash those who try hard to get ahead rather than thinking about how to do so themselves. 

On top of these widely different interpretations is the sheer confusion of the official response. In the beginning, state-owned newspapers have roundly criticized how the low-quality film disrespected professional filmmakers' efforts to create much more sophisticated narratives. The authorities in the city of Dalian, where Niu Lai was submitted for approval, supposedly persuaded the production company to voluntarily pull the film, lest it damage the city's reputation. But as the film became more popular, the official response seemed to have turned from negative to neutral to even quietly supportive.

Part of the official silence stems from unanswered questions about how such a film can even be approved in a market notorious for stringent checks. Granted, Niu Lai has nothing politically sensitive about its content, but for film evaluators whose jobs are about scrutinizing every detail of every submitted film for even subtle subversiveness, it is a wonder how they let this film even pass through the checks so quickly. Any official criticism of the film today indirectly undermines the credibility of the film evaluators.

Perhaps more importantly, the officials are just looking for any wins at this moment that can help connect people across China and beyond it in ways that help to improve its image. The film itself may not be positive, but the fact that Chinese people came together to enjoy it as a piece of humor serves as a very bottom-up proof that the Chinese are humans who are also capable of humor and spontaneity. Such characterization of Chinese people has been so rare in Western media that insist the people in the country are too brainwashed, too exhausted from overcompetition, or too serious about technology.

Indeed, even a regular Chinese person who does not consume Western news media often can see that Niu Lai represents a rare moment of cultural solidarity that transcends social backgrounds. In an age when social media feeds algorithm-optimized personalized content to each person, two strangers often share little in what they consume. If it takes one badly made film to restore, at least temporarily, that semblance of greater community, then perhaps all the insidious criticisms, confusions, and pure ridicule are worth it.