How Dear You ignited a debate over Chinese identity

The Teochew-language film, Dear You (《给阿嬷的情书》) is not only an unexpected cinematic hit, it has welcomed useful discussions of identity in the Sinophone world. 

The film reportedly cost 14 million RMB to make, a fraction of big budget films made in the People’s Republic of China (PRC) — such as the Zhou Xingchi blockbuster, Kungfu Soccer (《功夫女足》), with a purported budget of 380 million RMB. Dear You earned 575 million RMB at the box office in the PRC between the end of April and mid-July 2026, compared to the 1.19 billion RMB for Kungfu Soccer within a week. 

Yet Kungfu Soccer received none of the attention or visceral reactions associated with Dear You, especially in places outside the PRC with larger ethnic Chinese populations. The strong reception of Dear You owes to the way it speaks to broader, under-appreciated, and even suppressed aspects of Chinese identity, especially among ethnic Chinese communities in Malaysia, Singapore, and, to some degree, Thailand.

Different languages, overlapping tongues

Chinese identity is historically diverse and pluralistic. People identifying as ethnically Han (汉) today speak around ten different Chinese languages, which specialists call Sinophone or Sinitic, which range from being partially mutually intelligible to non-mutually intelligible. Some of the more familiar ones being Mandarin (commonly called Huayu (华语), Putonghua (普通话) or Guoyu (国语), branches of Southern Min or Minnan (闽南语) such as versions of Hokkien (福建话) and Teochew (潮州话), Yue (粤语) or Cantonese (广东话), Hakka (客家话), and Wu (吴语), exemplified by Shanghainese (上海话). 

These languages variously borrow from and retain elements from older Chinese languages and those with whom migrating people came into contact. The cultural and even religious practices of these different groups of people broadly categorised as Han also differ substantively. There is no natural reason why persons conversant in one language and/or set of cultural practices cannot be familiar with others, apart from individual preference and capacity.

Then there are the languages, cultures and religions of the many distinct peoples who have come under the rule of various China-based empires and states. Arabs, Turkic peoples, Mongols, Manchus and many others moved in and out of areas controlled by Chinese regimes, following or fleeing conquest and seeking opportunity, influencing locals along the way. Han peoples migrated to the Japanese islands, Korean peninsula, Taiwan, as well as across mainland and maritime Southeast Asia over a millennium for similar reasons. 

They lived, worked, raised families and died in these places, bringing their languages and cultures while mixing locally. Of course, there was the official language of government, the Official Language (官话), the most recent of which provides the basis for today’s Mandarin. Further, Mandarin during the 20th century dropped its literary form (文言) and bases itself on the spoken vernacular (白话) from around Beijing with the script switching from traditional (繁体) to simplified (简体) form in many areas, most consequentially in the PRC.

Dominance of northern Chinese ‘Chinese’

Today, many associate Mandarin and cultural practices from north China as being typically “Chinese”. Much has to do with politics and state policies from the late 19th century. Regimes aiming to control and represent China, from the Qing empire to various guises of the Republic of China and eventually the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)-controlled PRC pushed Mandarin as the official language. 

State machinery used practices from north China as a cultural baseline while casting other expressions of Chinese culture and language as derivative, even undesirable. Much had to do with administrative ease but also efforts to create unitary control and realise visions of a centralised, modern state, most recently reflected in the PRC’s expansive 2026 Ethnic Unity and Progress Promotion Law. The PRC’s market size and growing might impress on those outside the PRC to see Mandarin and associated practices as somehow more “authentic” and representing high culture.

A sense of ‘us’

Where Dear You excelled was to privilege experiences of people left out of more common narratives about Chinese culture, language and history. Unlike Minnan and Yue, which are common in Taiwan and Hong Kong cultural productions, Teochew is rarer. Yet, it is a heritage language for large proportions of ethnic Chinese in Malaysia, Singapore, and Thailand — something the production explicitly recognised.

The storyline featuring families split apart by conflict and geography but linked by letters and remittances spoke to elements of memory for many ethnic Chinese, making them feel seen and heard. There were the camaraderie and mutual support among co-ethnics overseas, creating a sense of solidarity in an unfriendly environment underlined by restrictions on Chinese education.

Many ethnic Chinese from Southeast Asia consequently felt they owned the movie, that it represented them, and eagerly defended it — even if many do not or no longer speak Teochew. These reactions echoed responses to the 2018 Hollywood romantic comedy Crazy Rich Asians, mostly set in Singapore and similarly highlighting imaginations of ethnic Chinese experiences outside the PRC.

Less savoury but just as real parts of the wider Chinese historical experience were omitted by the filmmakers and, along with more contested aspects of the movie, seen as inconvenient to those who desired a celebration of self-identification. The crime, forced labour, and exploitation associated with historical ethnic Chinese migration as well as the targeting of individuals with connections to the PRC in non-communist parts of Southeast Asia were largely left aside. So too were the assaults on those with overseas ties in the PRC’s forced land reform, Anti-Rightist Campaign and Cultural Revolution, along with authorities extracting remittances during the Great Leap Forward and associated Great Famine. 

Enthusiasts of Dear You labelled negative depictions of non-ethnic Chinese characters in the film without Chinese schooling as “trying to pick bones from an egg” (鸡蛋里挑骨头), or being overly “political”. Views critical of the movie were sometimes painted as “anti-Chinese” and “anti-China”, even though they exist next to more positive perspectives. Once topics become too direct, discussions are often cut short or dismissed with an insistence that the film is for entertainment and fictional.

‘Chinese identity’ trigger point

Conflation of more critical observations about Dear You with denigration of ethnic Chinese and the PRC reflects tensions in perspectives about Chinese identity and its meanings. An article by Lianhe Zaobao (LHZB)’s Sim Tze Wei in May highlighting the film’s United Front (统一战线) aspects drew criticism from PRC state media and online for misrepresenting the film and PRC ties with ethnic Chinese beyond its borders.

Yet multiple United Front offices organised screenings of Dear You and wrote about bonds between ethnic Chinese overseas and the PRC, their supposed “ancestral country” (祖国). The movie’s producer publicly thanked the CCP’s central United Front and Propaganda departments, probably for access to the remittance letters (侨批) that were a key plot device. Notwithstanding the United Front’s positive connotations in the PRC, association of Dear You with United Front work became contentious when written by a foreign hand, albeit in Mandarin by an ethnic Chinese person.

Exchanges over Dear You occurred over underlying friction regarding how ethnic Chinese majority Singapore should relate to the PRC. Just a day before Sim’s essay, Singapore Senior Minister Lee Hsien Loong reiterated Singapore’s multiethnic nature and that Singapore-PRC friendship rested on mutual benefit, not descent. These positions received criticism for downplaying ancestry.

Backgrounding such discussions were PRC-origin information campaigns focusing on ethnic Chinese in Singapore and elsewhere, which included laments on Singapore losing its alleged Chinese quality. Singaporeans as well expressed discomfort at being labelled “‘Pore county” (坡县) in informal PRC online lingo, suggesting small physical size and subordination. Noting some of these concerns was a piece from the SPH Media’s Chinese Media Group behind LHZB, which also appeared to somewhat distance itself from Sim’s article.

Adapting to tension

Creative decisions over language and subject matter in Dear You touch on multiple, evolving ideas of Chinese identity, including ones that sit less easily with each other. Dear You’s intervention sparked exchanges much larger than the film itself. These debates come as ethnic Chinese communities outside the PRC try to consolidate their footing in the various societies they live in and have had a hand in making, while the PRC party-state is seeking their support to pursue its many goals — even if they are non-PRC citizens. Such efforts to mobilise affinity follow state- and nation-building attempts by successive Chinese governments and political parties since the late 19th century and come at a time when the PRC is at a peak of ascendancy. 

Navigating different elements of “Chineseness” while adjusting to local realities is part of the history of ethnic Chinese communities that exist in diverse and pluralistic settings. These choices can be consequential for ties not just with the PRC but with fellow citizens, neighbours, friends, and family members too. A starting point for thinking about these issues may be honesty about disagreements and inconsistencies and recognition that resolution may not be immediate.

Related: Dear You: China’s Nanyang dream and Singapore’s lived reality | The truth behind Dear You, from a first-generation Nanyang migrant