A Chinese military blockade of Taiwan ignites panic across the self-ruled island as banks shut down, families flee, fake news spreads and Taiwanese troops brace for attack.
The on-screen chaos is the basis of a new Taiwanese television series called Zero Day (零日攻擊), which creators hope will “awaken” people to the real-life threat of a Chinese invasion of Taiwan.
Beijing has long vowed to annex Taiwan, by force if necessary. But rather than dramatize the cross-strait tensions, Taiwan’s film and television industry has shied away from the topic for fear of losing access to the world’s biggest Chinese language market.
Photo: Chen Yi-chuan, Taipei Times
Lo Ging-zim (羅景壬), one of 10 directors involved in Zero Day, said the war in Ukraine, resurgence of the China-friendly Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) in Taiwan and China’s growing efforts to influence the nation meant it could no longer be ignored.
“Media around the world were talking about the next battlefield could be the Taiwan Strait,” Lo told said, recalling 2022 when the idea for Zero Day emerged. “It started from a group of people all worried and anxious about the same thing, deciding to gather and take action.”
Zero Day, which refers to the first day Chinese troops land in Taiwan, features 10 standalone episodes and is expected to premiere this year.
Photo courtesy of Zero Day
The trailer shows chaos erupting across Taiwan as Chinese forces surround the island on the pretext of searching for crew members of a military plane that disappeared over nearby waters.
Chinese disinformation floods Taiwan’s Internet, cash machines stop working, stock markets crash and families dragging suitcases seek to escape. The actor playing Taiwan’s president urges people “to unite” in a televised address, warning “without freedom, Taiwan is not Taiwan.”
‘LOOMING THREAT OF WAR’
Photo: AFP
Real-world analysts have warned a Chinese blockade of Taiwan could precede an invasion, and China’s military has practiced cutting off the island during drills.
Taiwan would be outgunned in any conflict with China and would need the United States and other countries to come to its defense.
Zero Day producer Cheng Hsin-mei (鄭心媚), who wrote one of the episodes of the series, said she wanted to “awaken Taiwanese people to the looming threat of war.”
Photo: AFP
She also hoped to inform the international community that Taiwan was not part of China.
“We must tell the world we are not the same political system — we are a free and democratic place and we elect our own president,” Cheng said.
“So when the regime launches an independent act of aggression, it is not a civil war, it is an invasion.”
The Zero Day cast includes actors from Hong Kong, Japan and Taiwan. Cheng said 70 percent of those approached for the series declined to take part, worried they would be blocked from productions hoping to enter China.
Taiwanese actor Kaiser Chuang (莊凱勛) plays a businessman in financial difficulty who unwittingly receives help from Chinese collaborators.
Chuang believes his involvement in Zero Day has already cost him one role, but he firmly insists the series “needed to be made.”
“A life of peace, security and freedom doesn’t come through fear and submission,” said Chuang, describing Zero Day as a “wake-up call.”
“It only comes from constant vigilance, making ourselves stronger, identity with our country and land and unity among people living here.”
‘NOT POLITICAL PROPAGANDA’
To make Zero Day more realistic, creators consulted military and political experts and shot key scenes on site, including a Taiwanese naval vessel and the Presidential Office in Taipei.
Lawmaker Lin Chien-chi (林倩綺) from the pro-Beijing KMT criticized the series for creating “an atmosphere of panic” and blurring “reality and fiction excessively.”
“It inevitably leads to speculation about whether the filming perspective and thinking behind this series are related to the ruling party’s political agenda,” Lin said, referring to the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). While the production received NT$230 million (US$7.6 million) in funding from the government and private sector, director Lo insisted it was not propaganda.
“We are not making a political propaganda film, nor is it some kind of informational or civil defense educational video — it’s none of those,” Lo said.
“It is a drama. It should attract the audience through human nature, human emotions and human vulnerability.”
Cheng, the producer, said there had been strong international interest in the series and the team was now in talks with several online streaming platforms and television networks around the world.
“It’s also a way to prove that even without access to the Chinese market, Taiwanese drama can still break into other regions,” she said.
The canonical shot of an East Asian city is a night skyline studded with towering apartment and office buildings, bright with neon and plastic signage, a landscape of energy and modernity. Another classic image is the same city seen from above, in which identical apartment towers march across the city, spilling out over nearby geography, like stylized soldiers colonizing new territory in a board game. Densely populated dynamic conurbations of money, technological innovation and convenience, it is hard to see the cities of East Asia as what they truly are: necropolises. Why is this? The East Asian development model, with
Desperate dads meet in car parks to exchange packets; exhausted parents slip it into their kids’ drinks; families wait months for prescriptions buy it “off label.” But is it worth the risk? “The first time I gave him a gummy, I thought, ‘Oh my God, have I killed him?’ He just passed out in front of the TV. That never happens.” Jen remembers giving her son, David, six, melatonin to help him sleep. She got them from a friend, a pediatrician who gave them to her own child. “It was sort of hilarious. She had half a tub of gummies,
The wide-screen spectacle of Formula One gets a gleaming, rip-roaring workout in Joseph Kosinski’s F1, a fine-tuned machine of a movie that, in its most riveting racing scenes, approaches a kind of high-speed splendor. Kosinski, who last endeavored to put moviegoers in the seat of a fighter jet in Top Gun: Maverick, has moved to the open cockpits of Formula One with much the same affection, if not outright need, for speed. A lot of the same team is back. Jerry Bruckheimer produces. Ehren Kruger, a co-writer on Maverick, takes sole credit here. Hans Zimmer, a co-composer previously, supplies the thumping
No more elephant and monkey acts. No more death-defying motorbike stunts. No more singing or acting on stage. Several hundred spectators still clapped constantly when acrobats with Dongchoon Circus Troupe, South Korea’s last and 100-year-old circus, twirled on a long suspended fabric, juggled clubs on a large, rotating wheel and rode a unicycle on a tightrope under the big top. “As I recall the hardship that I’ve gone through, I think I’ve done something significant,” Park Sae-hwan, the head of the circus, said in a recent interview. “But I also feel heavy responsibility because if Dongchoon stops, our country’s circus, one genre
RSS