What animals are comparatively less featured in animated shows yet still possess facial traits that make them slightly resemble humans?
This question, which might seem strange to most people, was once a central concern for director Yu Shui during the early development of Nobody, an animated blockbuster that grossed over 1.7 billion yuan ($250 million) last summer.
Loosely inspired by the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) novel Journey to the West, the movie is a spin-off of one of the most popular standalone episodes of Yao — Chinese Folktales, a series that proved to be a phenomenal hit in 2023. Portraying a little pig monster who dares to dream big despite harsh realities, the tale stirred widespread resonance among urban dwellers. Yu served as director of both the episode and the film.
Recalling being approached in 2021 to develop the story's concept, Yu, who describes himself as an animation fan since childhood, began searching through his memories of Chinese mythology for inspiration. "One day, I suddenly thought: the monsters in Journey to the West are very interesting and diverse," he tells China Daily following a forum at the 16th Beijing International Film Festival.
Emotional resonance
Comprising 100 chapters, the literary masterpiece follows the pilgrimage of the Buddhist monk Tang Sanzang (also known as Xuanzang), escorted by three powerful disciples — including the famous hero, Monkey King — as they resist various monsters. Most of these creatures yearn to eat the monk in pursuit of immortality during their treacherous journey to acquire Buddhist scriptures.
The film's plotline unfolds as a farce: the low-level pig monster attempts to escape from his oppressive boss and assembles a team to disguise themselves as a monk and his disciples, heading west with the intention of taking credit for the pilgrimage.
Yu drafted a set of selection rules. These monster protagonists, he decided, should be inspired by less popular animals and should not be modern-day favored pets like cats or dogs. More importantly, their very appearances should carry a sense of defeat — something overlooked and even a bit subdued. Their faces also needed to represent a certain type of person: ordinary and conflicted, suspended between aspiration and resignation.
Selecting from a pool of dozens of candidates, the director and his fellow creators pitched four — a pig, a gorilla, a weasel, and a toad — gathering more than 600 animators that spent four years producing over 1,800 shots for the film, featuring ink-water animation as a tribute to the Shanghai Animation Film Studio, the pioneer of Chinese animation.
Sound director Zhang Jinyan then tailored each monster's voice to match its traits: the ambitious pig's naive yet firm tone; the toad's high-pitched, flat timbre; the weasel's rapid-fire, density-shifting delivery that provides a comedic effect; and the gorilla's slow, stuttering deep voice, which "sets up his later roars as signs of emotional growth".
Beyond visual craftsmanship, the story carries a deeply relatable emotional core. One of the most touching plotlines features the little pig monster's yearning to escape Langlang Mountain, the fictional place where he resides and works. Yu, also a professor at the School of New Media Art and Design at Beihang University, explains that the mountain contains a metaphor that resonates with everyone.
"Each of us has an environment that we wish to escape. It could be a boring, stressful workplace or an exhausting, suffocating family. Langlang Mountain represents the life predicament we are all trying to escape," says Yu.
The impact of AI
While the film's themes address personal struggles, a larger question looms over the industry. In a rapidly evolving digital era, a persistent question shadows cinema: can the medium, long regarded as the "seventh art" for its reliance on human creativity, withstand the unprecedented challenge posed by artificial intelligence?
For Yu, the answer lies in preserving a precious legacy of cinema: making commercially viable works that still carry the imprint of their creators. His view echoes a long tradition. Over the medium's 131-year history, some of its most enduring works have balanced technological innovation with personal vision. James Cameron, for instance, combines cutting-edge effects with reflections on humanity and nature in the Avatar series, while Ridley Scott is known for crafting visually arresting worlds in films like Alien and Blade Runner.
Yet the tension between technology and artistry has taken on new urgency. As AI tools become increasingly sophisticated, they are already reshaping parts of the filmmaking process — from subtitle translation to the digital creation of on-screen faces — raising concerns about the future of traditional roles within the industry.
It is against this backdrop that Yu shares his perspective: "To make a film possessing the distinctive temperament of its auteur is still a rarity in the market. Filmmakers can use distinctiveness to confront AI, and distinctiveness is probably the sole 'weapon' to win."
But challenges for cinema extend beyond AI. In 2025, China's micro-drama market reached 67.79 billion yuan, with monthly production exceeding 3,000 titles. By comparison, the country's total box office revenue for the same year stood at 51.8 billion yuan — meaning micro-dramas have already overtaken traditional feature-length films as a main driving force in China's digital cultural consumption.
Despite these shifts, Yu remains optimistic. He believes cinema will exist forever. "Real life is becoming busier," he explains. "The expansion of the internet has made most people live in their own small worlds. Artistic creation is also becoming lonelier, because with the help of AI, work that once required a team can now be done by one person."
But cinema, Yu argues, offers something irreplaceable. "Cinema is a place where people still gather together, providing a sense of social connection," he says, reflecting on the enduring value of the shared moviegoing experience. "Sitting in the dark and watching a film with others reminds you that you are still surrounded by people."