China's animation rise: How 'Ne Zha 2' redefined collaboration and creativity

Rooted in the first Ne Zha film, the "Armor of Ten Thousand Scales" symbolizes the strength and support that come from unity. Such spirit of collaboration was evident in the creation of "Ne Zha 2."

When the film stormed global box offices in early 2025, it showcased China's animation prowess and its special production model. It took five years to complete, involving 138 studios and 4,000 animators.

The film's intricate visuals – mythical battle sequences, hyper-detailed character rigging and volumetric magic effects – were divided into micro tasks spread across companies from Shenzhen to Hangzhou.

The model contrasts sharply with the Western style. Disney's "Inside Out 2" (2024), for instance, was produced by a single flagship studio in three years. Pixar's "Toy Story 4" (2019) relied primarily on its 1,200-person in-house team and a few external partners for rendering.

"Imagine building a car by sourcing engines from one factory, wheels from another, and electronics from 50 more," said Zhang Wei, a veteran producer at Light Chaser Animation.

"It's exhausting, but it's the reality of our 'workshop economy'."

China's animation journey began with 1922's animated advertisement "Shu Zhendong Chinese Typewriter." The 1960s and 1980s golden eras produced classics like "The Monkey King: Uproar in Heaven" and "Prince Ne Zha's Triumph Against Dragon King." After a post-1980s slump, recent hits like "Monkey King: Hero is Back" (2015) and "Ne Zha" (2019) revived the industry.

China's animation market (including films, games and merchandise) is projected to reach US$58 billion by 2025, according to iResearch, driven by government subsidies, streaming platforms and private capital.

For "Ne Zha 2," Jiangsu Original Force Digital Tech Co created the impressive chain visual effects scenes and the void crack sequence in Chentangguan. The Nanjing-based firm previously contributed to DreamWorks' "How to Train Your Dragon" TV series.

Red Whale Visual, responsible for a fourth of the film's animation, including fish swarms and cloud simulations, deployed 160 artists over 26 months, while Changchun's Timeline Animation Design Co, led by founder Zheng Kaiwen with a three-person team, specialized in advanced character rigging.

The end of the film credited over 87 percent of its production partners as micro- and small-sized enterprises across over 20 technical categories. Such fragmented model reflects China's animation sector norms: 2020's "Jiang Ziya" involved 57 studios, while 2019's "Ne Zha" required 70 partners.

"It's like assembling a mosaic where each tile comes from a different workshop," said Chen Mingchao, Chengdu Cocoa Bean Animation's senior effects artist.

"I once received a card from my colleagues that said, 'May we climb different mountains, but still walk the same road.' This embodies the spirit of Chinese animators – working together to push the industry forward," said Shi Chaoqun, the film's visual effects supervisor.

Foreign experts observed the scale with awe and skepticism.

"China's model achieves scale through sheer manpower, but it lacks the streamlined R&D infrastructure of US or Japanese studios," said Hiroshi Matsumoto, a Tokyo-based animation analyst, in a 2024 Animation Magazine interview.

Former DreamWorks CTO Lincoln Wallen echoed: "Their workflows resemble 1990s Hollywood – artists overcoming tool limitations with brute-force effort."

However, Wang Lei, dean of Communication University of China's Animation School, argued that China's decentralized model offers structural adaptability – unlike Western studios' centralized pipelines that risk creative stagnation.

"Our fragmented ecosystem, while logistically complex, enables rapid response to market shifts," Wang said.

A critical issue underlying the challenge is the severe talent shortage currently plaguing China's animation industry.

Despite over 140 universities and 200 vocational schools offering animation programs, many focus primarily on technical skills such as 3D animation and CG (computer graphics) effects, said Shi Jun, director of Film at the Shanghai Theatre Academy.

The emphasis on technical training leaves graduates ill-prepared for critical roles in writing, directing and art design.

The talent gap begins at the university level, where students with strong arts backgrounds typically gravitate toward traditional fields like oil painting or design, relegating animation to a secondary choice.

"Animation has long been seen as the last choice for students," Shi said, pointing out that many private schools admit hundreds of students, but employ only a handful of specialized faculty.

It creates a disconnect between academic training and industry needs, particularly in creative positions.

Consequently, many graduates find themselves in low-skilled outsourcing roles for international projects.

A 2024 China Animation Association survey of 1,200 animators found that 62 percent worked exclusively on foreign projects, with just 18 percent participating in original IP development.

"Outsourcing teaches technical execution, not creativity," said a Hangzhou-based animator who requested anonymity due to contractual obligations with Marvel Studios. "It's like being a chef who only knows how to chop onions."

"Outsourcing is profitable, but it limits our ability to develop core technologies," Shi explained, likening these graduates to "assembly-line workers" who cannot propel the industry forward.

While outsourcing offers short-term financial gains, it stifles innovation and keeps Chinese animation studios dependent on foreign technologies, he added.

The "Ne Zha 2" team also grappled with the same situation. Early drafts leaned heavily on Western superhero tropes. Director Yang Yu scrapped six months of work, recentering the narrative on Ne Zha's struggle against cosmic fate.

A former advertising animator, Yang spent two years storyboarding the film's climax, where the protagonist's body shatters into 600 pieces.

"We rejected AI (artificial intelligence) tools. Each fragment's path was manually framed to preserve emotional weight," Yang said.

Co-animation director Ge Yi, 47, highlighted the importance of painting and art skills. A former foreign trade worker, Ge taught himself animation using pirated software in his 30s. Starting as a junior artist on "Ne Zha" (2019), he rose to co-director for "Ne Zha 2."

"In 'Ne Zha,' we smoothed characters' faces to save time. For "Ne Zha 2," I insisted each facial hair be hand-animated," Ge said.

His team studied slow-motion videos of eyebrow movements to perfect a 12-second scene of the hero's mother crying – a sequence that took four months to complete.

Shao Bing, vice dean of the Animation Department at Jilin University, said the solution lies in fostering cross-industry skills. "Animation needs to merge with game development, education and other fields," he suggested, encouraging students to broaden their expertise beyond traditional animation roles.

He also emphasized the importance of integrating AI and VR (virtual reality) technologies to create visually impactful and culturally relevant works. "We need to combine advanced tech with artistic creativity to produce works that can compete globally," Shao said.

Shi stressed the importance of selecting the right talent and starting with short films before progressing to feature-length projects.

Shi said the successes like "Ne Zha 2" serve as "a shot in the arm" for the industry, raising technical standards and encouraging animators to transition from production roles to creative leadership.

Director Yang is already heeding this call – his next project, a sci-fi epic based on the "Shan Hai Jing" (Classic of Mountains and Seas), aims to train 500 fresh graduates in narrative design.

"Hollywood took a century to build its empire," he said. "We're just planting the first seeds of ours."