Lost You Forever as a live adaptation almost made it.

Lost You Forever as a live adaptation almost made it; it could have been perfect. All the elements that brought magic to the world of DaHuang—world-building, complex characters, cinematography, direction, film composition, and editing—were by far the most beautiful and complex I've seen in contemporary Chinese dramas. Based on Tong Hua's novel of the same name, it chronicles Xiao Yao's life and journey to a peaceful existence through entanglements, political upheavals, and depression.

World-building and complex characters were LYF's strongest feats. As a character-led story, we find ourselves moving through all the emotions as we watch our favorite characters succeed and fail, trip and fall, and get up and brush off, in a cycle of questionable decision-making, inability to take action, or willfulness confined in their psychological prisons against a backdrop of reverse harem romance. No character was free from flaws, and no character was inherently good or evil—a melting pot of antiheroes, antivillains, and villains.

Romance-wise, the story plays on multiple tropes present in every Chinese drama one can think of. From childhood promises, 15-year oaths and blood oaths, to piggyback rides, savior complexes, and underwater kisses, Lost You Forever is no exception. There are plenty of heart-inducing moments for all with four different suitors and relationships.

Plot-wise, the story is at its weakest, with Xiao Yao's only ambition in life being to have a life with the person who will always put her first and never abandon her, while Cang Xuan wants to rule the world so he can protect Xiao Yao. Sprinkled among these two plots are cheesy romances, assassination attempts, broken promises, underwater dates, and personal sacrifices (a majority coming from Xiang Liu).

In terms of characters, the drama attempted but failed to portray Xiao Yao's struggle with low self-esteem, self-worth, and depression. These character traits were most prominent in her and plagued her decisions and how she interacted with the people around her. Her feelings of isolation and misplaced identity among her noble peers were also not touched on, all of which were important to her character development (devolving) and her choices, and which would prominently reveal her relationship dynamics among her male leads.

Instead, the drama's attempt to skim over the thematics of trauma-guided decision-making in order to portray an empowered woman whose unwavering requirements for a lover (one who will always put her first and never abandon her) made her out to be a shallow, tunnel-visioned, and uncompromising character wallowing in self-pity. Her dissonance from her environment made her quite ignorant in many aspects. At least, in the novel, her depression can be attributed to her dissonance and disassociation. She desired no power but failed to see the costs of the peaceful life she desired. And without her understanding of those sacrifices, Xiao Yao, as a character like her novel counterpart, has very little character development. In the end, Xiao Yao as a protagonist fails to impress me as the empowered woman the drama had hoped to portray, which comes as such a pity, as XY's character had so much potential in the first act, the Qingshiu Town arc.

In terms of male leads, Cang Xuan's character development being chucked away as some kind of dream in the third act amounted to incredibly lazy writing and it takes away from his growth. From wanting to protect the one he loved the most, to losing her in the end due to his obsession, Cang Xuan emerges to be Xiao Yao's worst enemy, but his eventual self-admittance in defeat to his circumstances and finally realizing that loving Xiao Yao means to let her go comes back in a beautiful circle—that he had lost her once, and he'll lose her again. However, the drama downplaying his villainy took away the power of this narrative.

Jing as a character, ironically, remains true to his novel counterpart, written to fulfill Xiao Yao's requirements, to help bring XY's journey into closure. The drama did attempt to bring dimensionality to his character by giving him extra lines (some stolen from Xiang Liu's character) and extra scenes, attempting to make him more proactive in the plot. However, due to lack of character development and poor character setup, his stagnancy keeps him tied to XY as the plot device to her eventually getting what she had most wanted.

Xiang Liu, the novel readers' favorite character, continues to dominate the story and plot. Despite XL being criticized for several out-of-character scenes and for being too lovelorn, like his novel counterpart who never wasted a single word or page, XL commanded and captivated every minute in the drama. Even though the drama changed and omitted several key scenes and downplayed his relationship with Xiao Yao, XL remains a complete character with a complete arc.

Acting-wise, I believe it is Yangzi's best performance and I hope she continues to grow. She shines the most in her scenes with Tan Jianci, making their on-screen chemistry sizzle like no other. There are a few times where one can tell that Yangzi could have pushed her facial expressions more or that there's just one thing missing to make it a perfect portrayal of Xiao Yao.

Zhang Wangyi portrays Cang Xuan, managing to captivate and bring together a prince whose growing obsession over his love for XY is slowly chipping away his sanity. Zhang Wangyi does a beautiful job of projecting confined jealousy on his face, and these are the moments I live for.

Deng Wei portrays Tushan Jing and my critique of his acting is that he still seems to be very camera conscious, and that shows through his awkward performances. In contrast, Wang Hongyi brings together Chiusui Feng Long, portraying a young noble whose personality is filled with fond memories and optimistic ambitions.

However, it is Tan Jianci's portrayal of Xiang Liu that captivated me the most, as well as many audiences around the world. His immense repertoire for micro-expressions, line delivery, and control body movements brought a convincing Xiang Liu to life.

Among the pretty costumes and beautiful soundtrack, things start to fall at the seams, particularly in the writing of character arcs, conflict resolution, and plot closure. A limited budget also hindered the possibilities within DaHuang that the imagination didn't hold back. Despite strong characters, the adaptation shied away from delving deeper into the heaviest theme present in the novel: how trauma and psychological disorders cripple healthy decision-making.

When you have a world based on mythology, you expect to see a visual interpretation worthy of those myths, which the budget of the drama eventually failed to produce. Production design and CGI were lackluster, in some areas simply looking terrible, i.e., the blood faucet, Xiao Yao's mediocre cherry blossoms, Jade Lake, and Queen Mother's lotus are among the worst culprits. And then throwing in censorship, poor writing experience, and linear storytelling, LYF just couldn't move over the typical threshold that has been holding back Chinese storytelling on the small screen.

LYF had so much potential in the first half, but in the second half where the story starts to come together in closure, it utterly failed to encompass the world of DaHuang, as well as portray the poetry of Tong Hua's novel.

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Refreshing blend of humor, nostalgia and melodrama

Go East follows the coming-of-age journey of Yuan Mo, a reluctant antihero who loves eating, drinking, and money but hates working. He is smart and witty, yet often runs around like a chicken with its head cut off. To earn a quick buck, he shamelessly concocts schemes. However, beneath his perceived cowardice and loudmouth behavior, the story slowly reveals a deeper trauma, adding layers to his character and hinting at an emotional backstory.

In terms of production quality, Go East featured stronger acting across the board and excelled in making the Hengdian studio sets, on-location shots, and other settings appear visually cohesive. The lighting, cinematography, camera work, and editing were all solid, working seamlessly together to complement the genre without distracting from the storytelling. Although the background music and soundtrack didn’t offer any standout tunes, they effectively accompanied the drama, subtly enhancing the overall atmosphere.

Adding to its charm, Go East evokes a sense of nostalgia, particularly for those of us who grew up watching Chinese dramas of the '90s. The comedic timing of misspoken words leading to humorous situations—like Yuan Mo wanting a new home because he’s tired of sleeping on the ground, while the realtor thinks he’s been overindulging with his maid—brings a sense of lighthearted fun. Additionally, the portrayal of political etiquette, humorously resolving interpersonal misunderstandings—such as trading Yuan Mo’s freedom for Yuqi’s transfer to Si Fang Pavilion—is delightful. When I’m not laughing outright, I’m chuckling at the absurdity of the circumstances.

However, the second half of the series takes a different turn, shifting into a palace melodrama. This change, while still engaging, detracts from the charm of the first half, which was brimming with comedy and quirky cases. As the story leaned more heavily on Ah Shu's arc, we lost much of Yuan Mo’s presence, which was one of the show's early strengths.

Tan Jianci’s decision to tackle a comedic role in his acting repertoire has undoubtedly helped expand his versatility as an actor. His portrayal of Yuan Mo, with his unruly and untamed personality reminiscent of Stephen Chow’s iconic characters, also showcases Jianci’s own talent for facial exaggerations and subtle micro-expressions, adding depth and humor to the performance.

In the end, Go East offers a refreshing blend of humor and nostalgia, making it a delightful journey for anyone who appreciates the charm of comedy dramas. Tan Jianci’s portrayal of Yuan Mo stands out as a significant step in his evolution as a versatile actor, marking this series as both entertaining and memorable.

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Tan Jianci shines as angsty teenage boy!

As all eyes on #TanJianci #檀建次 film debut in a dramatic male lead role for I Miss You, his career seems like it's coming in full circle with his costar from Lost. Indulgence, Karen Mok, singing the ost.

I've finally had a chance to rent Lost.Indulgence from appleTV and it's such a nice gem. It's a low budget, quiet, indie coming of age film. It follows the relationships of a woman and son, Xiao Chuan, navigating the aftermath from the apparent drowning of her husband. They both had to take in the woman, Su Dan, who was injured and a unlikely friendship develops between the Su Dan and Xiao Chuan.

Tan Jianci, even at a young age, shines as Xiao Chuan. Here you can already see his knack for acting and small facial movements.

Filled with teenage angst, grownup problems, and unspoken lust, Lost.Indulgence is beautifully shot on 35mm, and remeniscent of the HK era urban narratives. Despite a rushed ending, it is still a fresh breath from all the CGI fested idol dramas.

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