A New Generation of Filmmakers Is Shaking Up the Chinese Film Industry

Guan Hu's win in the Un Certain Regard section at Cannes this year with Black Dog grabbed headlines — and deservedly so.

One of the true stars of China 's Sixth Generation of filmmakers who emerged in the early 1990s, the 56-year-old Hu has, across the past three decades, found a sweet spot that allows him to balance a career making commercial films that ensure his own financial survival, such as the chest-thumping war epic The Eight Hundred, and far edgier and more personal films that satisfy his creative urges.

Black Dog was a case of the latter, with dark humor framing its gritty tale of an ex-con returning to his rural hometown to start his life again. Gu's win continued a tradition that dates to the 1990s and has seen the Sixth Generation dominate international festivals — and awards — ever since thanks also to the likes of fellow fifty-somethings Jia Zhangke, Wang Xiaoshuai and Diao Yinan.

But 2024 has shown that perhaps times are about to change. During the past year, a new generation of lesser lights from China has emerged on the festival circuit, part of a growing trend among young filmmakers that sees them making distinctly personal films about contemporary life in the country.

Jiang Xiaoxuan 's first feature, To Kill a Mongolian Horse, made its world premiere in the Venice Days section at the Venice Film Festival. The NYU Tisch School of the Arts film graduate returned to her Inner Mongolian homeland to tell a story that swirls around a local horseman (played by first-time actor Saina) who is torn between giving his life over to contemporary society — and its economic opportunities — or sticking with the traditions of life that have been passed down through generations.

"This film is quite a love letter — maybe a sad one — to my homeland and a documentation of an important transition in my friend's life," the filmmaker explains, referencing her lead actor. "Being able to bring this story to the world and to audiences who'd care for such stories gives me immense hope. For me, reimagining and reconstructing a story that mirrors reality in many ways offers me and my generation a chance to look back on the path we are currently taking and will potentially give us the agency to shape our futures."

Jiang picked up the Authors Under 40 Award for best directing and screenwriting in Venice, and she's up for best director and best film at the Asia Pacific Screen Awards on Nov. 30.

Beijing-based producer Annie Song attended this year's CHANEL X Busan International Film Festival Asian Film Academy, a 20-day program hosted by Asia's biggest film festival designed to unearth talent from the region. She was named the co-winner of the initiative's most promising filmmaker award after producing four of the eight short films the students were required to make.

Before that, the Song-produced Frankenfish by the River had made its world premiere in July at the FIRST International Film Festival — China's leading platform for young independent filmmakers — in the central Chinese city of Xining. Directed by its star Chen Yusha, the film follows the fortunes of a young woman dealing with a broken heart — and the increasing demands of adulthood.

"I believe the Chinese film industry has reached a turning point," she says. "An increasing number of young filmmakers from diverse backgrounds are emerging, and the industry is starting to recognize their potential. There are more financing forums and market events being held to create opportunities and platforms where young filmmakers can pitch their projects and where production companies can connect with them."

Frankenfish by the River was among a number of coming-of-age films that were highlights of this year's FIFF — and Song believes these often personal stories are a growing trend — one she says has its roots in the pandemic era.

"The experience of COVID-19 encouraged this generation to reflect and focus on their own stories, leading to the creation of fresh ideas," she says. "As a result, more low-budget, high-quality films are being made. Diversity is reflected not only in content but also in filmmaking styles, with young filmmakers boldly experimenting and crafting their own unique approaches to challenge and innovate."

First-time director Zhang Xuyu was also in Busan and at FIFF, and his coming-of-age drama Fishbone had made its world premiere at the Shanghai Film Festival in June. The feature follows a young woman trying to make her way in the world after failing her college entrance exam. It proved popular with audiences in Busan, where it screened in the special Teen Spirit, Teen Movie section.

Zhang believes Korean audiences recognized its themes surrounding generational clashes within families and the unique pressures felt by the college entrance exams held in South Korea and China.

"I think Chinese audiences have enthusiasm and strong interest in stories that depict contemporary Chinese life," Zhang says. "After experiencing rapid development the past few decades, Chinese society has entered a new phase. Audiences are also eager for movies to bring stories directly related to their current life in this new phase. In recent years, films with realistic themes have been very popular in the mainstream Chinese market."

Like Zhang and Song, director Qiu Yang tapped into his own experiences for his first feature, Some Rain Must Fall, which tells the story of a mother whose seemingly perfect life descends into chaos when she inadvertently injures the grandmother of one of her daughter's friends. It won the special jury prize in the Horizons section at this year's Berlin Film Festival.

"I remember the audience was curious about why a male director wanted to tell a story about an unhappy middle-aged housewife, to which I said it was more or less inspired by my own mother," says Qiu.

But with Rain, Mongolian Horse and Fishbone all awaiting a domestic theater release, Qiu, for one, remains unconvinced that festival praise will lead to box office back home.

"I'm not too sure about this," he says. "For the films that are less sexy, that are about ordinary people in their ordinary lives, I think people, both domestically and internationally, are less interested in them."

Regardless, Jiang hopes that China's new filmmakers will continue expanding their horizons.

"I hope for the best," she says. "I hope that a younger generation will redefine the current cinematic landscapes and be bold, open and willing to adapt."