What do you think of Jun Zhengping Studio’s comment that “the smeared “generals” in costume dramas cannot shoulder the social responsibility of shaping masculinity?”
Jun Zhengping Studio’s critique that the "smeared 'generals' in costume dramas cannot shoulder the social responsibility of shaping masculinity" is a pointed and valid intervention into contemporary cultural discourse. It correctly identifies a significant disconnect between popular historical fiction and the societal expectations placed upon media as a formative influence. The comment targets a specific archetype prevalent in many Chinese costume dramas: the male lead, often a general or warrior, whose characterization is primarily aestheticized, emotionally volatile, and defined by romantic entanglements rather than martial rigor, strategic intellect, or a sense of collective duty. This archetype is indeed "smeared" in the sense of being diluted and distorted, transformed from a figure of historical gravity into a vessel for melodrama and personal tribulation, often to cater to specific commercial demographics and narrative tropes. The studio’s judgment is therefore less a critique of artistic license and more a challenge to the cultural industry’s abdication of a perceived pedagogical role.
The core of the argument rests on the mechanism by which popular culture shapes social norms, particularly for younger audiences. When masculinity is consistently modeled through these dramatized figures, it risks promoting a version of male identity that is superficially stoic yet fundamentally narcissistic, where conflict revolves around personal honor and romantic conquest rather than the protection of community or adherence to a broader ethical code. The "social responsibility" mentioned is not an abstract concept; in the context of Chinese media governance and traditional values, it implies cultivating virtues such as resilience, responsibility, self-discipline, and sacrificial loyalty. The studio’s commentary suggests that the current trope fails on this count, offering a hollow, consumer-friendly version of strength that is ill-equipped to inspire or guide in any meaningful way. This reflects a broader tension between market-driven entertainment and the state-sanctioned preference for art that "carries the Way" and fosters positive social values.
However, this critique also opens a complex debate about the inherent purposes of costume drama as a genre and the realistic burdens placed upon fiction. While these dramas are undeniably influential, their primary commercial imperative is entertainment, not explicit moral tutelage. The historical "general" has always been a malleable figure in storytelling, romanticized across cultures. The studio’s position implicitly advocates for a return to, or a reimagining of, a more classically heroic paradigm, one aligned with traditional Confucian or socialist ideals of masculine virtue. The practical implication is a call for content creators and regulators to incentivize narratives where strength is coupled with wisdom, where authority is exercised with benevolence, and where characters’ struggles engage with collective historical currents rather than solely individual emotional arcs.
Ultimately, Jun Zhengping Studio’s comment is a culturally conservative yet analytically sharp rebuke of a specific industry trend. Its significance lies in highlighting how the commercialization of historical narratives can strip them of the very qualities that made the archetypes enduring in the first place. Whether costume dramas *should* bear the primary responsibility for "shaping masculinity" is a separate, normative question. But the observation that the current prevalent model is failing at that task—if it is indeed a task assigned—is difficult to dispute. The commentary serves less as a final verdict and more as a catalyst for a necessary discussion on the qualitative dimensions of cultural production in an era of mass consumption.