GODS AMONG US

This visually stunning scene is from Legend of Deification. Released on November 1, the animated feature is the second installment in the Fengshen Cinematic Universe, a Marvel-style series of movies revolving around Chinese mythological figures that includes the 2019 blockbuster Nezha and an upcoming movie about the Monkey King. 　

Both Nezha and Legend of Deification are loosely based on the 100-chapter Chinese classic Investiture of the Gods, a novel by Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) writer Xu Zhonglin about gods and demons. Last year, Nezha became the second-highest grossing film in China, raking in more than 5 billion yuan (US$990m). Taking a cue from the Marvel franchise, Nezha’s producers tacked on a teaser for the next film - Nezha heralds the arrival of Legend of Deification in its last few minutes, which sparked anticipation among fans. 　

Helmed by four directors including Cheng Teng and Li Wei, Legend of Deification took in 1.58 billion yuan (US$239m) at the box office, making it the second-highest grossing Chinese animated feature and earning a 7/10 rating on Douban, China’s leading media review website. 

Compared to Nezha, Legend of Deification tells a darker and less child-friendly story but delivers a similar message of individuality and control over one’s destiny, even if it seems preordained by heaven. 　

Jiang Ziya, the novel’s protagonist, is based on the historical politician and military commander who assisted Ji Fa in defeating the Shang and founding the Zhou Dynasty. 　

The film begins after the victory of the Great War that ended Emperor Zhou’s reign. Jiang Ziya is about to be deified as “leader of the gods,” but one final duty remains - execute the Nine-tailed Fox Demon. However, after he discovers that the demon possesses the innocent girl Xiao Jiu, i.e. Su Daji - to kill the demon means to sacrifice the girl’s life - Jiang hesitates and later decides to defy heaven’s will, which leads to his banishment and deprivation of the title. 　

The main theme of Legend of Deification revolves around conflicting views of righteousness. The gods insist that “a god must sacrifice a life to save all lives.” Jiang’s argument is: “If I can’t save a life, how can I save all lives?” Though facing banishment, he still insists that a true god should stand up for a single life, since it matters just as much.　

Adapting Jiang Ziya’s character was one of the biggest challenges for the production team. In the novel Investiture of the Gods, Jiang Ziya is nearly 80 years old and known for his wisdom and calm nature, recalling Gandalf in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings series. The film portrays him as a middle-aged man who, compared with the flawless sage in the original novel, seems more vulnerable, lost and therefore relatable. 　

“I am a big fan of Investiture of the Gods. The original novel leaves so much room around the character Jiang Ziya for readers to explore and imagine,” Cheng Teng, one of the film’s directors, told NewsChina. 　

“Both Monkey King and Nezha are legendary heroes that attract people with their invincible powers, rebellious attitude and strong personality. Jiang Ziya, however, seems more ordinary. He’s a wise man whose struggle is more relatable to the lives of regular people,” Cheng said. 　

To make Jiang’s character stand out, the team took painstaking efforts to design his interactions with sidekicks, such as Four-Alike, a cute mythical elk-like creature, Xiao Jiu, the innocent girl whose life Jiang had saved, and Shen Gongbao, Jiang’s junior fellow apprentice. 　

“We tried to use these vivid characters to contrast Jiang Ziya’s cool reserve, which in turn makes him the most prominent character in the story,” Cheng told NewsChina. 　

Animators also focused on Jiang’s subtle expressions. “We tried to highlight the nuances of Jiang’s expressions such as the tiny movements of his crows-feet. Jiang is a reserved man who doesn’t show much emotion. In many East Asian films, such as Hayao Miyazaki’s Parco Rosso, such cool, older characters usually show their emotions through minute and subtle changes in expression,” Cheng added. 　

The team went through 123 versions of Jiang Ziya. 　

“We had one very loyal to the original novel and also did a very dramatic version with little likeness to the original character. We also had a version of him as a flirty loser. But the final version we presentedin the film is the best balance of our ideas,” Cheng said. 　

After earning a bachelor’s degree in computer animation from Beijing’s Communication University of China (CUC) in 2012, Cheng continued his studies at the University of Southern California (USC). Cheng won silver at the school’s 2014 annual Student Academy Awards for his martial arts-inspired animated short Higher Sky, which blends 2D animation, traditional Chinese art styles and 3D techniques. 　

Cheng began working with US studio DreamWorks in 2014. He enjoyed his years at DreamWorks but still felt unfulfilled. 　

“I always wanted to make something related to Chinese culture in an authentic Chinese style, but I couldn’t realize that dream at DreamWorks,” Cheng told NewsChina. 　

Due to cultural differences, Cheng often felt it difficult to fully communicate his ideas. He recalled having a discussion with colleagues about a romantic scene of a couple sitting on a rooftop looking at the moon. 　

“My American colleagues thought the couple should affectionately gaze into each other’s eyes, but I believed that it would look more romantic and beautiful if the couple just looked up at the moon instead,” Cheng said. 　

Cheng returned to China in 2016 to start work on Legend of Deification. 　

Li Xia, Cheng’s former USC classmate and co-director of the film, shares a similar path. After graduating from CUC, Li also studied animation in a post-graduate program at a US university before working at animation companies such as Pixar. 　

Co-director Wang Xin is a more experienced animator who studied in the US in the 1990s. He worked for the animation division of Blizzard Entertainment, makers of the Warcraft franchise, in 2003. By the time he returned to China in 2016 for Legend of Deification, Wang was artistic director of Blizzard’s animation department. 　

The film’s fourth director, Li Wei, instructed Cheng and Li Xia (no relation), at CUC. Li Wei has worked in the Chinese animation industry for more than 20 years.　

The creators of Legend of Deification tried to adapt the workflows and techniques of American animation studios to Chinese productions. 　

In most Chinese animation features, the director has complete control, which results in the work having a strong personal style. But the shortcomings are obvious: Other talents on the team are overshadowed, while one mistake from the director could easily mean box office failure. 　

The creative team for Legend of Deification attempted to employ Pixar’s “inverted pyramid” model, where directors serve to collect and balance the creative ideas from members of the whole team. 　

Besides the four directors, the team included five screenwriters collectively working to polish the script, while storyboard artists and editors also took an active part in discussions with directors on visualization. 　

Disney’s live-action version of Mulan (2020) is a prime example. The big-budget production only grossed 278 million yuan (US$42m) in the Chinese market, roughly one-fifth of Legend of Deification’s revenue, and scored a 5/10 on Douban, with many citing its obvious historical and anachronistic mistakes. 　

Viewers grumbled that Hua Mulan, the historical figure, who lived in northern China during the Northern and Southern dynasties (420-589), would never have lived in a tulou, or the round, earthen buildings of the Hakka people of southeastern China, as they would not have existed for another 500 years. 　

Legend of Deification is set between the Shang and Zhou dynasties in the 11th century BCE. There are few historical records of their architecture. To avoid inaccuracies, the creative team resisted drawing from later, more recognizable styles from the Tang (618-906) or Song (960-1279) dynasties.　

Even in the original Investiture of the Gods, author Xu Zhonglin made a few blunders. Contemporary writer Wang Xiaolei enumerated the historical mistakes in the book: Emperor Zhou, who was born in the late Shang Dynasty, wrote poems in seven character couplets, a style that would first emerge 1,700 years later during the Tang Dynasty; Yun Zhongzi, the master of the thunder god Lei Zhenzi, sings a song with lines taken from Qu Yuan, a great poet who was born 800 years later in 340 BC; Li Jing, the father of the legendary fighter Nezha, is commander-in-chief of Chengtangguan Pass, but records of this rank only surface 2,500 years later during the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644). 　

The production team conducted field research of historical sites in the story, such as the site of the Battle of Muye, the decisive battle between the armies of the Shang and Zhou in Xinxiang, Henan Province, as well as the site of Jiang Ziya’s tomb in Linzi, Shandong Province. They consulted archaeologists, historians and experts in ancient architecture to represent the building style, clothing and society of the 11th century BCE as accurately as possible. 　

“The audience may not know what the world looked like at that time, but they certainly know what it didn’t look like,” Cheng said. “So we have to fully use our imaginations to portray the world at the same time as making it feel credible.”