Course:ASIA325/2025/The New King of Comedy
Research Project Title
Why Not a Queen of Comedy?: Emotional Labor, Neoliberal Logic and Feminine Ambition in Stephen Chow’s The New King of Comedy
Group Members' Contributions
EZ： Introduction
EZ：Stories behind the film production
EZ：Histories of reception
KK：Scholarly literature review
EZ：Comparative analysis
KK : An alternative interpretation
EZ： Conclusion
Introduction
The New King of Comedy (2019) is a Chinese comedy directed by Stephen Chow. It tells the story of Rumeng, a young woman in her twenties played by Wu Jingwen, who dreams of becoming a leading actress in the highly competitive film industry of Shenzhen. The film is a remake of the 1999 Cantonese film, The King of Comedy, also written and directed by Chow.
Rumeng (Wu Jingwen) is deeply passionate about acting and works tirelessly as an extra in films, yet she faces constant rejection from those around her. However, she lands a role in an international blockbuster adaptation of “Snow White,” where the lead actor is her childhood idol, Mark (played by Wang Baoqiang), a once-famous actor who has since fallen from grace, losing both his acting skills and his audience.
In this project, we explore several key themes and questions raised by the film. How does The New King of Comedy use Chow’s signature mo-lei-tau (nonsensical) comedy style to comment on real-world social issues, especially regarding class, gender, and labor? How does the film represent feminine ambition, and to what extent does it reinforce or resist traditional gender norms? We also examine the film’s reception across different audiences, especially the contrast between Hong Kong nostalgia, mainland disappointment, and international indifference, and ask how audience expectations shape critical response.
Finally, by comparing the film with The Devil Wears Prada (2006), we analyze how global capitalist ideologies affect women’s labor across different cultural industries. Both films center on young women enduring humiliation and emotional labor in order to succeed, offering insights into how success, suffering, and self-worth are entangled in neoliberal visions of femininity. Through this comparative and critical lens, our review seeks to understand how The New King of Comedy functions not only as a comedy but also as a social commentary rooted in Stephen Chow’s evolving cinematic vision.
Stories Behind the Film
Development of the film started as early as 2015. Reports suggest that Chow started the first draft of the film in 2015. Production officially began in October of 2018. Filming was completed in two months. The New King of Comedy had a reported budget of approximately 7.5 to 8 million USD.[1] This is significantly lower than many of Chow’s previous films, which relied heavily on computer-generated effects, and is thus more akin to some of his older films he starred in and produced in the 1990s. With a much smaller production and shorter schedule, Chow had more time to tell a more character-driven story that encouraged on-set improvisation as a way to elicit more authentic performances from the actors.
The film was shot in Shenzhen[2], specifically in the “Rose Town” area of the Dapeng New District. The choice of this modern Chinese city was made to highlight the bustling energy of urban youth and the daily hardships of the behind-the-scenes actors striving to break into the film industry.
The New King of Comedy was inspired by Stephen Chow’s own journey as a young extra in the Hong Kong entertainment industry in the 1980s. In January 2019, during a press conference in Beijing, Stephen Chow shared an anecdote: During his early days as a background actor, he often listened to Chen Baoqiang's song “Hurricane.”[3]
Chow stated that this song was a source of strength and that he would listen to it whenever he felt discouraged and wanted to give up. When listening to his song, he would remind himself to “[k]eep striving, don't give up, believe in yourself—you are the king of comedy in your own life.” To pay homage to this unwavering spirit, Stephen Chow chose “Gale Girl” as the film's theme song and re-recorded it with a new female group named “Gale Girls.”
The five members of “Gale Girl”—Li Zixuan, Liu Renyu, Gao Yingxi, Qi Yandi, and Lyu Xiaoyu—were born in the 1990s, symbolizing a new generation of dream chasers. Zhou Xingchi explained that forming this group was not just a marketing strategy but also a tribute to the countless “ordinary people” like the film's female lead who are pursuing their big dreams.
Histories of the Film’s Reception
For many of Stephen Chow’s long-time fans, especially those from Hong Kong and Cantonese-speaking communities, The New King of Comedy signaled a nostalgic return to his earlier, character-driven, low-budget comedic style. In local reviews, Hong Kong viewers noted that the film, while modest, still offered emotional sincerity. One viewer commented, “At least after The New King of Comedy, you won’t feel like you’ve wasted your time or money.” [4]This sentiment reflects a kind of cultural loyalty, even as the film departed from Chow’s more extravagant past works.
However, the film received much harsher criticism from mainland Chinese audiences, particularly on Douban, one of the country’s most popular review platforms.[5] There, the film holds a relatively low score of 5.6/10, based on over 400,000 user ratings. Many critics on the platform cited reasons such as a “lack of creativity,” “dull humor,” and “excessive sentimentality.” Viewers also expressed disappointment that Chow no longer plays a leading on-screen role and no longer serves as a full-time director, leading many to feel distanced from the energetic, absurdist comedy that defined his earlier career in hits like Shaolin Soccer (2001) and Kung Fu Hustle (2004).
By contrast, international audiences on IMDb gave the film a slightly higher rating of 6.2/10.[6] While still lukewarm, the international reception was somewhat more forgiving, likely because Western viewers are less anchored to Chow’s comedic legacy and thus judged the film more on its own merits. Nevertheless, many negative reviews from IMDB echoed similar themes: that the film lacked originality, suffered from a thin plot, and seemed to recycle ideas from Chow’s previous works. Some reviewers accused the director of “rehashing old material,” suggesting that the film functioned more as a sentimental tribute than a truly fresh creation.
Ultimately, both Chinese and international audiences expressed skepticism, though perhaps for different reasons. Mainland audiences, deeply familiar with Chow’s filmography, measured it against a golden era of local cinema. International audiences, while less emotionally attached, still found the film underwhelming in terms of narrative structure and humor. This divergence points to the weight of legacy in shaping reception—The New King of Comedy was not simply watched as a standalone film, but as a cultural artifact bearing the expectations of an entire cinematic generation.
Scholarly Literature Review
Stephen Chow’s use of Mo-Lei-Tau Comedy to explore social issues
Ruiyun Liao’s 2025 dissertation[7] on Stephen Chow’s “Transformation from Kung Fu Motives to Eco-Cinema” Focuses on how Stephen Chow uses Mo-Lei-Tau to explore social issues within Chinese society.
Mo-Lei-Tau (無厘頭) is a Cantonese term that translates to nonsensical. It refers to a distinctive style of comedy popularized by Stephen Chow in the 1990s. Referencing Chow's two King of Comedy films, Liao states “These films feature absurd situations, witty dialogue, and exaggerated characters who are obsessed with success, and these elements ultimately create a comedic tapestry that navigates the fine line between humor and social critique (p93)[7].”
Liao argues The New King of Comedy contrasts the original film’s focus on male struggles with the remake’s emphasis on the harsh social realities pertaining to female labor in the film industry as explicitly explored through Liao’s analysis of the dinner scene on page 50[7].
Within the scene, the protagonist Dreamy attends her father’s birthday dinner while dressed in corpse makeup from her job working as an extra .
Liao specifically focuses on how Chow uses the Mo-Lei-Tau technique of juxtaposition of contrasts: “a form of humor where punchline does not follow the logic of the setup (p50)[7].” The emotional weight of the scene centers on Dreamy’s father’s parental disappointment in her acting career path, which is swiftly interrupted by an unexpected joke that diffuses the tension and adds humor.
Liao states “Although the scene may cause irritability, the context and delivery of the comedy minimize the upsetting feeling some people may experience.” Comedy serves as a way of alleviating the uncomfortable load (p50)[7].”
Liao also argues that Chow’s comedy within The New King of Comedy is dependent on the context of local Chinese cultural knowledge; another principle of Mo-Lei-Tau comedy. Liao points out that “the extreme circumstance is that there is no setup because the jokes are based on the local culture or common experiences (p50)[7].” Within the scene, the deadpan delivery and reality of familial expectations are a mutually shared experience familiar to individuals who struggle with the familial pressures that come with pursuing a nontraditional career path in contemporary Chinese society.
Chow uses Mo-Lei-Tau to collapse the boundary between comedy and critique. Liao argues that Chow's “films contrast comedic elements with emotional moments that add depth to the original narrative (p93)[7].” Through comedy, Chow can address systemic injustices and cultivate empathy for marginalized figures and women extras working in the Chinese film industry.
Chow’s use of corporeal humor and exploration gender stereotypes
In the book The Cinema of Stephen Chow (2024) by Gary Bettinson and Vivian P.Y. Lee Bettinson argues that within The New King of Comedy, Chow uses a style of corporeal comedy, where the human body is the primary vehicle of humor. “Chow submits bodily verisimilitude to absurdist logic not only from crazy comedy and Looney Tunes animation but also from the martial arts phantasmagorias of Hong Kong cinema (p105)[8].”
Bettinson argues Chow's commitment to visual, bodily humor persists even in an era of digital effects, affirming his auteur status within comedy cinema. Referencing specifically how “The New King of Comedy’s cosmetically altered heroine, whose ape-like nostrils align her with Chow’s sympathetic grotesques (p120)[8]”
Bettinson also comments on the film's narrative of the underdog. The New King of Comedy uses humor not merely for entertainment but to highlight the struggles of the underprivileged. “Among his signature cinematic motifs, underdogs have been a recurring hallmark since his first commercial success (p205)[8]”; as seen through the female protagonist Dreamy; an aspiring actress who endures daily humiliation.
Bettinson, also argues that The New King of Comedy is unique in its exploration of gender roles. Dreamy is able to “[break] free from passive or negligible gender stereotypes” by carrying out the philosophy of “working hard to succeed,” a mantra previously reserved for Chow’s screen persona only (p257-258)[8].
Bettinson comments on how Dreamy is able to persevere through all her obstacles through her yearning for success and special charisma, which is the first time a small-town woman is able to “soar above the melodramatic bits like her father’s objection and the betrayal of her boyfriend” within Chow’s cinematic universe (p257-258)[8].
The New King of Comedy maintains Chow’s core techniques of corporeal humor and underdog protagonists but instead explores a new gendered perspective whilst critiquing the Chinese film industry itself engaging with the socio-economic realities of contemporary China.
Comparative Analysis
Stephen Chow’s The New King of Comedy (2019) and David Frankel’s The Devil Wears Prada (2006) both depict feminine ambition, exploitation, and self-identity within the entertainment and fashion industries, respectively. Though the films originate from different cultural contexts (mainland China and the United States), they both center on young female protagonists who must navigate ruthless professional worlds.
This comparative analysis demonstrates how global neoliberal ideologies of labor, self-worth, and success manifest similarly across vastly different cultural and cinematic traditions. By juxtaposing these two films, we can understand how women’s struggles in modern capitalist systems are shaped both by local cultural values and by universal economic pressures.
Thematically, both films focus on the emotional labor and identity negotiation of their female leads. In The New King of Comedy, the protagonist, Ru Meng, works as a film extra with dreams of stardom. She is constantly humiliated, underpaid, and forced to perform roles that strip her of dignity.
Similarly, in The Devil Wears Prada, the main character, Andy Sachs, endures demeaning treatment as an assistant at a top fashion magazine, sacrificing her integrity and personal life to fit into a glamorous, cutthroat environment.
As such, both films centre on the double standards that women face and how they must tolerate disproportionate abuse from those at the top to achieve meaningful success. Women are often doubted and assumed to be less ready and deserving of success than men. In this way, both films arguably promote a particular figure of neoliberal women. This is the one who is able to moderate the emotional abuse and humiliation from others, suggesting a woman’s success comes from being able to endure this kind of struggle. In both cases, the protagonists’ professional hardships are not just occupational but also existential: they must constantly re-evaluate who they are and what they are willing to compromise.
A key similarity lies in the mise-en-scène and costuming, which reflect each protagonist’s evolution. Ru Meng’s cheap clothing and modest hairstyles contrast starkly with the elaborate film sets around her.
This underscores her outsider status and how she does not belong in this world of glamor. However, as her journey progresses, her appearance remains largely the same, signaling Chow’s critique of meritocracy: external changes are ultimately superficial and do not necessarily indicate growth. In Prada, Andy’s transformation is marked by high-end fashion and sleek editing sequences showing her learning to “fit in.”
The polished aesthetic serves both as seduction and a warning. Where Chow uses visual constancy to critique false hope, Frankel uses glamorization of the character to show how women become complicit in these patriarchal systems that value women who conform to specific beauty standards. Andy’s transformation underscores how feminine success in the modern world is tied to their physical appearance and attractiveness.
A central shared theme is the tension between personal integrity and professional ambition. Ru Meng faces constant rejection and humiliation as an extra but clings to her dream with quiet perseverance. Andy initially compromises her values to succeed at Runway magazine, only to later reclaim her autonomy. Both women are undervalued at the beginning, but their arcs diverge: Ru Meng achieves success through endurance and sincerity, while Andy’s growth involves self-reflection and ultimately walking away from a toxic environment.
Despite the film’s distinctly different cultural context, they both present a similar exploration of women and their position in a capitalist system that devalues and degrades feminine labor. The analysis suggests that both films expose the emotional labor that women engage in and how the normalization of feminine degradation results in alienation and confusion for these female characters. By foregrounding protagonists who must endure humiliation, reshape their identities, and navigate toxic work environments, the films highlight the pervasive influence of neoliberal ideals, where resilience, adaptability, and self-discipline are framed as the keys to success. Through contrasting visual strategies, the films ultimately reveal the paradox of feminine ambition in a world where the markers of success are often aligned with conformity, endurance, and performative transformation. Together, they suggest that while the struggle for recognition may differ in form, the underlying pressures facing women in global labor economies remain strikingly similar.
Alternative Interpretation
Scene 1 & Clip 1 (31:20-32:09):
Bettinson, argues that The New King of Comedy is unique in its exploration of gender roles as Dreamy is able to “[break] free from passive or negligible gender stereotypes”[8]. However, several scenes suggest an alternative interpretation of Chow’s messaging regarding the protagonist Dreamy. At many points within the film, Dreamy finds herself straying towards gender norms, rather than breaking away from them. This is apparent in the Psycho-inspired Shower scene. Context: after asking a showrunner for work that pays more, Dreamy finds herself re-enacting the shower scene from Psycho (1960).
The scene opens with a sound bridge with the iconic non-diegetic music from Hitchcock's Psycho to establish the scene as a tribute to the iconic shower scene.
The camera movement is dynamic and moves forward as the shower curtain is stripped away to show a “Dreamy naked body. The shot's framing puts Dreamy center frame within an unusually large shower, forcing the audience to engage in an act of voyeurism. Rather than depicting her as an empowered or autonomous figure, this scene shows her as an objectified, vulnerable body within a system that normalizes exploitation.
This scene does not illustrate female empowerment or resistance to gendered norms. Instead, it underscores the exploitative conditions women face in the entertainment industry. Dreamy’s body is commodified and stripped of dignity.
Additionally, the Camera crew and director are shown making comments on her body. The cameraman claims “She looks perfect”, while the director states how “I didn't know she looks this bad without clothes” and Dreamy has a “Bad figure and sagging skin and black dots on her ass”. All the while Dreamy stares into the void, uncomfortable, but okay with the situation as she is motivated by desperation, financial need, and a yearning for opportunity.
Bettinson claims that Dreamy “breaks free from passive or negligible gender stereotypes (p257-258)[8]". But in this scene, it's clear Dreamy is complacent in conforming to gender roles, stating that “I'm fine, the director said my body and skin sucks”, and “That's it I'm super fine”. Such humiliation is normalized as “just part of the job.” The shoot is awkward, voyeuristic, and emotionally distressing and Dreamy is literally and metaphorically stripped of agency.
Scene 2 & Clip 2 (24:35-25:43):
After getting her food damaged by Mr. Marco, Dreamy asks to get new food but is rejected. Without her knowledge, her father steps in and is able to convince the worker to get the food for her.
The Mise en scene within the scene shows how the worker towers over Dreamy to show the dominant relationship between the two. Her father, by contrast, is framed as above the worker to show the reversal of power. Chow uses blocking to demonstrate how Dreamy is unable to break free from passive gender stereotypes and instead needs to endure hunger and rejection while relying unknowingly on male intervention to be saved.
Rather than being independent, she needs her father to step in for her and get things done. The request is soft, accompanied by a sheepish smile. When she’s rejected, she doesn’t push back and refuses to make a scene or demand fairness, aligning with the traditional Chinese gender norms of the selfless, enduring woman.
Though touching, the scene ultimately reinforces Dreamy’s lack of control over her own material conditions and her emotional dependence on male figures like her father and boyfriend.
Bettinson’s argument suggests that Dreamy disrupts traditional gender roles by persevering through all her obstacles through her yearning for success and special charisma (p257-258)[8]. Yet in this scene, she does not push back and solve her own issues. The conflict is resolved through external male intervention, aligning with classic gendered narratives of paternalistic care and female passivity.
Conclusion
Despite being hotly anticipated, Stephen Chow’s The New King of Comedy received mixed reviews. Long-time fans of Chow’s work, especially in Hong Kong, welcomed the film’s modest budget, improvisational spirit, and heartfelt under-dog narrative, regarding it as a nostalgic return to Chow’s 1990s style. Mainland audiences, by contrast, judged the work against the director’s earlier blockbusters, and many critics found the jokes thin and the sentimentality heavy-handed. This is evidenced by the 5.6/10 Douban score. International viewers were slightly kinder (6.2/10 on IMDb), yet still faulted the film for recycling familiar tropes. Across markets, then, the consensus is restrained admiration: viewers appreciate the sincerity but question the freshness.
We recommend this film, especially for audiences who enjoy heartwarming and inspiring stories, as well as fans familiar with Stephen Chow’s early works.While this film may lack the fast-paced comedic style of his previous works, it tells a sincere and relatable story about perseverance in a challenging industry. Additionally, director Stephen Chow may have laid deeper plot threads in the latter half of the film, and I believe that as viewers, we can interpret the film in multiple ways rather than simply judging its quality based on ratings, as everyone has their own unique perspective.
References
- ↑ "新喜剧之王".
- ↑ 潘, 莹瑜 (2019-01-28 08:07). "星爷《新喜剧之王》很多取景地都是深圳大鹏这个地方". Check date values in:
|date=(help) - ↑ Xu, YuMin (2019-01-12). "【新喜劇之王】周星馳憶做臨時演員日子 靠陳百強一首歌激勵自己".
- ↑ chen, lan (2019.02.15). "【《新喜剧之王》影评】其实香港人想要怎样的星爷呢？". Check date values in:
|date=(help) - ↑ "新喜剧之王 (2019)".
- ↑ "Xin xi ju zhi wang".
- ↑ 7.0 7.1 7.2 7.3 7.4 7.5 7.6 Liao, R. (2025). Toward hong kong eco-comedy: Transformation from kung fu motives to eco-cinema through the lens of stephen chow (Order No. 31993866). Available from ProQuest Digital Collections; ProQuest Dissertations & Theses Global. (3202092986). Retrieved from https://www.proquest.com/dissertations-theses/toward-hong-kong-eco-comedy-transformation-kung/docview/3202092986/se-2
- ↑ 8.0 8.1 8.2 8.3 8.4 8.5 8.6 8.7 Bettinson, G (2024). The Cinema of Stephen Chow. London: Bloomsbury Academic. pp. 105, 120, 205, 257–258. ISBN 978-1-3503-6216-1.