"To a canary, a cat is a monster. We are just used to being the cat."

As a species that dominates our planet with superior intelligence, human beings often forget about the monster in ourselves and take for granted our hegemony in the food chain. Stories about beasts of sheer size and brutal strength, like Godzilla, sometimes take us by surprise, but for most of us the lumbering kaiju looks more amusing than seriously frightening.

On the other hand, smart predators with cunning and resource equal to mankind are a different story, because we homo sapiens are vulnerable against enemies with fangs and claws that can't be outsmarted. That's why the raptor that opened door was scary in Jurassic Park, while the T-Rex couple in "The Lost World" sequel was not.

14 years after the last entry to the franchise, the 2015 addition "Jurassic World" has plenty of lessons to draw from. This time they've got the formula right. Indominus Rex, a genetically enhanced predator the size of a Tyrannosaurus rex, is concocted in a research lab as a new attraction for the dinosaur theme park. The combination of DNAs from various unidentified species yields the most lethal killer, the fear of which keeps viewers thrilled despite a stale format.

There really isn't anything fresh to see apart from the humongous predator at large. Once again, it is human arrogance and greed that lead to the creation of the beast, once again the dinosaur whisperer scientist with good conscience gives out warnings in vain and once again innocent children need to survive the jaws. Lead actor Chris Pratt tries to play alpha among a pack of raptors, but he is given no chance to cast his pelvic sorcery.

In the battle of teeth, humans have no place. In a movie that aims for "bigger, louder and more teeth", character development can be problematic. Chris Pratt is not the only casualty. Also at fault is the park owner Simon Masrani played by Irfan Khan - initially posing as an adorable boss who cares about staff and dinosaur welfare but later reduced to an irresponsible playboy consumed by corporate greed. The worst slip-up, however, is when one of the small boys breaks down over their parent's divorce, despite no previous subtext leading up to this point, nor is the subject addressed ever again thereafter.

So compared to the well-organised dinosaur storyline, the human related narrative is almost deliberately ignored. For those of you who merely wish to see more teeth, "Jurassic World" offers a brilliantly executed story, just don't expect it to be perfect.

"To a canary, a cat is a monster. We are just used to being the cat."

As a species that dominates our planet with superior intelligence, human beings often forget about the monster in ourselves and take for granted our hegemony in the food chain. Stories about beasts of sheer size and brutal strength, like Godzilla, sometimes take us by surprise, but for most of us the lumbering kaiju looks more amusing than seriously frightening.

On the other hand, smart predators with cunning and resource equal to mankind are a different story, because we homo sapiens are vulnerable against enemies with fangs and claws that can't be outsmarted. That's why the raptor that opened door was scary in Jurassic Park, while the T-Rex couple in "The Lost World" sequel was not.

14 years after the last entry to the franchise, the 2015 addition "Jurassic World" has plenty of lessons to draw from. This time they've got the formula right. Indominus Rex, a genetically enhanced predator the size of a Tyrannosaurus rex, is concocted in a research lab as a new attraction for the dinosaur theme park. The combination of DNAs from various unidentified species yields the most lethal killer, the fear of which keeps viewers thrilled despite a stale format.

There really isn't anything fresh to see apart from the humongous predator at large. Once again, it is human arrogance and greed that lead to the creation of the beast, once again the dinosaur whisperer scientist with good conscience gives out warnings in vain and once again innocent children need to survive the jaws. Lead actor Chris Pratt tries to play alpha among a pack of raptors, but he is given no chance to cast his pelvic sorcery.

In the battle of teeth, humans have no place. In a movie that aims for "bigger, louder and more teeth", character development can be problematic. Chris Pratt is not the only casualty. Also at fault is the park owner Simon Masrani played by Irfan Khan - initially posing as an adorable boss who cares about staff and dinosaur welfare but later reduced to an irresponsible playboy consumed by corporate greed. The worst slip-up, however, is when one of the small boys breaks down over their parent's divorce, despite no previous subtext leading up to this point, nor is the subject addressed ever again thereafter.

So compared to the well-organised dinosaur storyline, the human related narrative is almost deliberately ignored. For those of you who merely wish to see more teeth, "Jurassic World" offers a brilliantly executed story, just don't expect it to be perfect.

Director Cheang Pou-soi and writer Jill Leung weave an elaborate labyrinth of multiple narratives to paint a bleak picture of a dog-eat-dog underworld in "SPL2: A Time for Consequences." At times hard to stomach but mostly riveting, the action thriller offers a wide range of spectacular imagery culminating in the clash of top martial artists from Chinese mainland, Hong Kong and Thailand.

For a film that boasts an international cast and setting, SPL2 exhibits an exceptionally indigenous Chinese flavour. An undercover policeman struggling with drug addiction, a prison guard with a leukaemia-afflicted daughter, a ruthless organ trafficker in dire need of a heart replacement, everyone is somehow connected in an enclosed community of "Jianghu," where extraordinary personalities find no escape from their destiny.

Thailand action star Tony Jaa plays the loving father and prison guard. His quest to locate a bone marrow donor for his ailing daughter coincides with disturbing developments at his workplace. At one point the cure is close at hand, but little does he know he will need to risk his own life for his daughter's salvation. In SPL2 Tony Jaa's uncommon moves constitute an eye opener for Chinese viewers.

Mainland Chinese Kung Fu star Wu Jing found a career breakthrough after his adventurous investment in "Wolf Warriors" turned out in his favour. His extended exposure here as an undercover police fighting for redemption greatly boosts his presence and may even propel him into super-stardom. His technique merges the styles of Jet Li and Donnie Yen which is at the same time expressive and realistic.

Perhaps the biggest winner is Chinese actor Zhang Jin, who won the Best Supporting Actor at the 33rd Hong Kong Film Awards for his role in Wong Kar Wai's martial arts drama "The Grandmaster." Here he appears as a prison warden awaiting retribution, whose immaculate wardrobe matches his simple, slashing moves. With a face as fair as a modern office worker and adequate acting skills, Zhang could pose a serious challenge to Wu Jing's ascension, what he needs is the versatility to adapt his styles to the fleeting tastes of Chinese Kung Fu fans.

Surely the actors also owe their success to writer Jill Leung and action director Li Chung-chi who arrange multiple occasions for them to showcase their skills. From gun fight to prison riot to slaughterhouse rampage or simple one-on-one duels, the action stars collide, change sides, form new alliances and collide again, creating impressive spectacles on all scales.

More impressive is the use of parallel narrative. Many key developments in the story are often screened simultaneously to heighten the sense of destiny and/or irony, which in itself is a powerful tool to glue together the numerous episodes of fighting scenes.
Despite the artistic failure in 2014 fantasy film "The Monkey King," director Cheang Pou-soi is well known for the distinctly dark and hopeless mood in his previous movies. In "SPL2: A Time for Consequences" he offers a pessimism of the most ambitious kind that trumps the unaccountable heroism in a "Transformers" movie, although his unique traits are still all over the piece to infect sensitive viewers.

Mortal men and women like success stories. They adore successful figures and enjoy projecting their own egos with such stories. Few of them understand that success sometimes comes as a curse rather than a blessing. Chinese director Chen Kaige is one of those successful yet unfortunate people who live their lives under a curse. His 1993 movie "Farewell My Concubine" made him the only Chinese director to win a Palme d'Or, but like his other recent outings, Chen's latest project "Monk Comes Down the Mountain" has once again put his name and fame into question.

The comedy-fantasy-adventure film is based on the best-selling novel Dao Shi Xia Shan by Xu Haofeng, who also wrote the story for Wong Kar Wai's martial arts drama "The Grandmaster." Chen's source material is about a Taoist monk who comes down the mountain to join the mundane world below. Like "The Grandmaster," "Monk Comes Down the Mountain" features Chinese martial arts and a spiritual pilgrimage. Although both offer stunning imagery and special effects, Wong Kar Wai's masterpiece trumps Chen Kaige's product in many aspects.

First of all, the action choreography in "Monk Comes Down the Mountain" mainly involves an awkward abuse of wire work, which is neither realistic nor romantic. Actor Zhang Zhen gave a brief but impressive demonstration of his Kung Fu prowess in "The Grandmasters," but here in Chen's story, his character is reduced to one of a mascot.

Secondly, in both movies Wong and Chen assume the role of a life coach and peddle plenty of inspirational reflections, but at least during his second try to render the film into 3D, Wong has managed to make the ideas coherent with the story and reachable for ordinary moviegoers. In comparison Chen's condescending stance alienates viewers from his story, like a mountain that separates the monks from the real world. The main idea of "Monk Comes Down the Mountain" is one who seeks the ultimate truth must experience the lives of the ordinary people, but this simple notion is deliberately made to sound mysterious and unfathomable in the movie.

Now I am not saying our dear director Chen Kaige is shallow-minded and incapable of having mysterious and unfathomable thoughts, on the contrary, as the son of famous director Chen Hua'ai, Chen is perhaps the most well-read and most thoughtful among China's fifth generation directors. But while having sophisticated ideas may be his stronger suit, conveying them to the general public is not.

In the 2005 fantasy film "The Promise" his tentative move to produce a blockbuster movie met a disastrous end. In the 2012 drama "Caught in the Web" Chen tried to catch up with developments in society and on the internet, but his own perspective was absent from the pictures. In "Monk Comes Down the Mountain", Chen somewhat retracts his steps and adds some cultural elements, but they amount to nothing but icon-mongering. It seems his attempts to court public favour always appear in the form of belated clichés, while his return to his own roots always end up confusing the audience.

Certainly "Farewell My Concubine" will forever be the highlight on Chen's resume, but that masterpiece is the result of many top level filmmakers working together as a team. Without the assistance of an adequate team, Chen Kaige is trapped in the shrine of his past glory and left alone to err. With a handful of setbacks in the past few years, now Mr. Chen may believe he has come down the mountain and lived with the ordinary people, but the truth is his learning days are not over. Unless he finds a way to translate his philosophy into accessible images and stories, or a team that helps him in that regard, the public will continue questioning his past success.

With cutting-edge CGI technology, "Monkey King: Hero is Back" conjures the rebellious protector from the childhood of China's younger generations and channels tremendous consumer power. The explosions of positive reviews and box office figures mark the triumphant fusion of nostalgia and modernity, but don't necessarily signal a brighter outlook for Chinese animated films.

Due to a lack of originality in story-writing, Chinese filmmakers often turn to classic texts for inspiration. For that reason, Ming Dynasty novelist Wu Cheng'en's "Journey to the West" has recently witnessed a comeback in popularity as a subject for adaptation. Hong Kong directors Stephen Chow and Cheang Pou-soi have each launched a new series to lukewarm reception but more sequels are still in the making.

Also in the genre of animation, director Wang Chuan's "Kuiba" is loosely based on Wu's story. The ambitious franchise in 3D was designed to challenge Hollywood movies and represented the highest level of production quality, but that has now met with fierce competition in the domestic market.

"Monkey King: Hero is Back" directly appeals to viewers' sense of sight with loud colours, dynamic action scenes and occasionally quiet background shots in the style of traditional Chinese landscape painting. When the Monkey King unleashes his full strength, viewers could almost feel the same excitement as watching a Japanese Shōnen manga story. The refreshing images give many viewers the hope that maybe Chinese animation filmmakers have mastered the modern techniques on par with Hollywood or Japanese counterparts.

Despite a single linear narrative that some claim to be unfit for grown-up audience members, the story does succeed in capturing a hero with moderately complex characters. On the one hand, he is the rebellious hero that revolts against the Heavenly deities; on the other hand, he cherishes the bond with his friends and overcomes himself to protect them. The power dynamics of his relationship with famous Monk Xuanzang, or Jiangliuer in this story, is reversed. The Monkey King here is no longer an unruly beast to be tamed by the righteous and fatherly monk, but a living legend loved by everyone. This variation evokes the memory of Chinese moviegoers, who in their childhood have looked up to the Monkey King as a defiant rebel against traditional patriarchal values.

The visual and emotional allure of the film has turned numerous casual viewers into willing converts. Their fervent suasion has hyped the film's box office income as well as people's expectations for Chinese animated films. But amid the thunderous applause and accolades, it is hard to notice the eight years of hardships and hardwork behind the scene. And before Chinese animation industry can truly turn a page for the better, filmmakers must be willing to endure more such difficult years, notwithstanding a huge influx of investment into their reach.

The box office success of "Monster Hunt" suggests China's young female population have gained the weight to sway public opinion and market decisions. And despite an excess of cuteness-mongering some may find too much for their taste, the effort by Chinese filmmakers to move past the phase of borrowing is encouraging.

In less than five days, the Chinese fantasy adventure film scored a total of 669 million yuan, or 108 million US dollars. It also set new records for opening day and single day earnings for a domestic film, plus new landmarks for IMAX screenings and opening weekend grossing.

Some attribute the windfall to the magical charm of the film's female lead Bai Baihe, who also starred in 2011 box office dark horse "Love is not Blind." That's an allegation without ground. For all her amicable manners and attractive looks, Ms. Bai does not appear to offer the best of her performance. But we should blame the editors rather than the actress. When the screens are constantly switching between the closeups of Bai and the male lead Jing Boran, it is impossible to get a good look on the actress's sexy lips, let alone to interpret the feelings she may or may not be trying to convey.

So now it is safe to say, young male audience members are not responsible for the explosion in the box office figures. The real culprit, as a matter of fact, is what could have driven the male moviegoers even further away. Imagine a big fat moving turnip with a pair of big eyes, a petty nose, a tinier mouth and octopus-like tentacles, I think most guys would find the picture disturbing. But apparently young women between the age of 19 and 33 find the fantastic elf extremely cute.

Before "Monster Hunt" was ever released in Chinese cinemas, the filmmakers had organised several screening events, whose repercussions rippled throughout the social network. I remember reading about quite a few positive comments all coming from female acquaintances, and all pointing to the cuteness of the little oc-turnip-us monster named Huba.

The cuteness campaign yielded positive results. On the first Saturday night after the film's release, I tried to book a ticket for Sunday morning, only to find nearly 90 percent of the seats at a nearby cinema had been sold. The precisely targeted production and promotion gimmicks demonstrated both Chinese women's purchase power and their ability to influence people around them.

Despite my disapproval of the grotesque creatures, "Monster Hunt" has also made commendable achievements. Director Xu Chengyi is a Hollywood veteran, whose works include Dreamworks animation "Shrek 3." His skills shaped the critters that have caused so much commotion in Chinese cinemas. Even more remarkable is how he makes the interaction between human and computer generated characters seem natural, particularly during intensive action scenes.

Lastly, traditional Chinese elements are more than just a selling point. In some shots showing natural scenery in the background, viewers have to actually turn their heads to look for the small human characters. This reminds us of traditional Chinese paintings that highlight the insignificance and humility of humans vis-a-vis nature. Viewers could have felt more strongly about that if only the filmmakers had taken it easy on the cuteness campaign.

On June 1st, Children's Day in China, the Wanda cinema in west Beijing was busier than usual. Young couples in their late 20s or early 30s took their children to watch the first Doraemon movie with 3D CGI technique. The story induced laughters and tears among the most sympathetic audience members, but when the end credits appeared and the lights went on, it was the parents who lingered in their seats trying to catch the behind-the-scenes extras, while the children were anxiously beseeching their mums and dads to leave.

It was a remarkable contrast to other, more ordinary films made for kids. Normally it is the children who are too excited to leave as their parents try to coax them out of their seats. This deviation tells a lot about the difference in the lives of the young parents from that of their even younger heirs.

About 30 years ago, Doraemon began to attract millions of young Chinese fans. According to the comic book stories, the chubby blue robot cat was sent back in time by a boy in the 22nd century to accompany his great great grandpa Nobita, a typical loser in school who possessed no academic or athletic aptitude. Coming from a more technologically-advanced time, Doraemon presented a myriad of gadgets that defied the laws of science and common sense. The goal was to keep Nobita out of trouble, but more often than not the boy with a gadget caused even more mishaps.

The fantastic gadgets in the story appealed greatly to children. More significant was the idea of having a nearly omnipotent friend to help you out every time you are in trouble. In a time when most parents were working hard to cash in on the results of China's Reform and Opening-up, children can get very lonely indeed and an imaginary friend who is always there sounded better than it does.

Today our children are the centre of the family. Their parents, sitting on the wealth of the grandparents, no longer have to break their backs for a better life. The marginal benefits of hard work have shrunk and now give way to high quality family time. Instead of loneliness, the smothered kids are more likely to look for a chance to spread their wings and fly away, like Hiccup in "How to Train Your Dragon."

"Stand by Me Doraemon" consists of details from several different episodes of the comic series, with the focus on how Nobita courts the favour of his female classmate Shizuka. Most parents would probably recognise the episodes, so there is little originality in the movie. Also the fantastic gadgets are given little exposure, chances are the kids will miss out on the highlight of the story that so captivated their parents.

So in conclusion, the movie's sentimental value may be enough to satisfy the parents, but will probably stop short of inspiring younger followers.

On June 1st, Children's Day in China, the Wanda cinema in west Beijing was busier than usual. Young couples in their late 20s or early 30s took their children to watch the first Doraemon movie with 3D CGI technique. The story induced laughters and tears among the most sympathetic audience members, but when the end credits appeared and the lights went on, it was the parents who lingered in their seats trying to catch the behind-the-scenes extras, while the children were anxiously beseeching their mums and dads to leave.

It was a remarkable contrast to other, more ordinary films made for kids. Normally it is the children who are too excited to leave as their parents try to coax them out of their seats. This deviation tells a lot about the difference in the lives of the young parents from that of their even younger heirs.

About 30 years ago, Doraemon began to attract millions of young Chinese fans. According to the comic book stories, the chubby blue robot cat was sent back in time by a boy in the 22nd century to accompany his great great grandpa Nobita, a typical loser in school who possessed no academic or athletic aptitude. Coming from a more technologically-advanced time, Doraemon presented a myriad of gadgets that defied the laws of science and common sense. The goal was to keep Nobita out of trouble, but more often than not the boy with a gadget caused even more mishaps.

The fantastic gadgets in the story appealed greatly to children. More significant was the idea of having a nearly omnipotent friend to help you out every time you are in trouble. In a time when most parents were working hard to cash in on the results of China's Reform and Opening-up, children can get very lonely indeed and an imaginary friend who is always there sounded better than it does.

Today our children are the centre of the family. Their parents, sitting on the wealth of the grandparents, no longer have to break their backs for a better life. The marginal benefits of hard work have shrunk and now give way to high quality family time. Instead of loneliness, the smothered kids are more likely to look for a chance to spread their wings and fly away, like Hiccup in "How to Train Your Dragon."

"Stand by Me Doraemon" consists of details from several different episodes of the comic series, with the focus on how Nobita courts the favour of his female classmate Shizuka. Most parents would probably recognise the episodes, so there is little originality in the movie. Also the fantastic gadgets are given little exposure, chances are the kids will miss out on the highlight of the story that so captivated their parents.

So in conclusion, the movie's sentimental value may be enough to satisfy the parents, but will probably stop short of inspiring younger followers.

What distinguishes South African-Canadian filmmaker Neil Blomkamp from others is the audacity to challenge the traditional concept of human existence.

In his first film "District 9," co-written by Neil and his wife Terri Tatchell, the lead character was infected by a fluid which gradually turned his physical form into that of an alien. The sight of a human body morphing and developing the feature of an insect-like creature was not appealing to average viewers’ stomachs. His 2013 science fiction movie "Elysium" was a big-budget blockbuster. For better box office results the director had to tune down on his peculiar interest, although he still introduced the idea of an exoskeleton surgically attached to the body of the lead character. The story was written single-handedly by Neil Blomkamp.

The latest science fiction film "Chappie" was once again the brain child of the Blomkamp couple. With a budget slightly bigger than "District 9," the new piece allows the director to continue the agenda of producing disturbingly fantastic imagery.

"Chappie" has something in common with the sci-fi blockbuster "Avengers: Age of Ultron." Both were released in China in the same month and both featured a sentient robot. While Ultron's newly acquired thinking capacity was led astray by bloody events in human history, Chappie encounters evils of a more tangible and more immediate kind. Right after the inception of his mind, Chappie is held in captivity by a gang who teach him gang swagger and four-letter words. He is also given the valuable lesson of being lied to and learns about the fact that he, like other living things on the planet, must die one day.

Instead of fixating on the topic of artificial intelligence and engaging in a philosophical discussion about nature and nurture, I would prefer to highlight the director's apparent loathing of the human form, his fear of death and his eagerness to amend nature's very first largess to mankind. In each of his feature film, his lead character takes on an alternative physical form. "Now, you will live forever, Maker," thus speaks Chappie to his creator Deon, after he transfers the latter's mind to a robot's.

In most science fiction stories it is common to find the glorification of a certain type of human virtue, be it courage, intelligence or compassion. Such films are intrinsically narcissistic. In comparison, Neil Blomkamp's critical spirit comes as a fresh, though not quite pleasant, complement.

Of Neil Blomkamp's three recent products, "District 9" won the director critical acclaim and world recognition, "Elysium" failed to offer refreshed excitement despite a bigger budget, and even "Chappie" packed a weak punch due to implausible twists in an unconvincing story. But still I will continue to check out on Neil's future films, for all the unconventional whims they might or might not provide.

What distinguishes South African-Canadian filmmaker Neil Blomkamp from others is the audacity to challenge the traditional concept of human existence.

In his first film "District 9," co-written by Neil and his wife Terri Tatchell, the lead character was infected by a fluid which gradually turned his physical form into that of an alien. The sight of a human body morphing and developing the feature of an insect-like creature was not appealing to average viewers’ stomachs. His 2013 science fiction movie "Elysium" was a big-budget blockbuster. For better box office results the director had to tune down on his peculiar interest, although he still introduced the idea of an exoskeleton surgically attached to the body of the lead character. The story was written single-handedly by Neil Blomkamp.

The latest science fiction film "Chappie" was once again the brain child of the Blomkamp couple. With a budget slightly bigger than "District 9," the new piece allows the director to continue the agenda of producing disturbingly fantastic imagery.

"Chappie" has something in common with the sci-fi blockbuster "Avengers: Age of Ultron." Both were released in China in the same month and both featured a sentient robot. While Ultron's newly acquired thinking capacity was led astray by bloody events in human history, Chappie encounters evils of a more tangible and more immediate kind. Right after the inception of his mind, Chappie is held in captivity by a gang who teach him gang swagger and four-letter words. He is also given the valuable lesson of being lied to and learns about the fact that he, like other living things on the planet, must die one day.

Instead of fixating on the topic of artificial intelligence and engaging in a philosophical discussion about nature and nurture, I would prefer to highlight the director's apparent loathing of the human form, his fear of death and his eagerness to amend nature's very first largess to mankind. In each of his feature film, his lead character takes on an alternative physical form. "Now, you will live forever, Maker," thus speaks Chappie to his creator Deon, after he transfers the latter's mind to a robot's.

In most science fiction stories it is common to find the glorification of a certain type of human virtue, be it courage, intelligence or compassion. Such films are intrinsically narcissistic. In comparison, Neil Blomkamp's critical spirit comes as a fresh, though not quite pleasant, complement.

Of Neil Blomkamp's three recent products, "District 9" won the director critical acclaim and world recognition, "Elysium" failed to offer refreshed excitement despite a bigger budget, and even "Chappie" packed a weak punch due to implausible twists in an unconvincing story. But still I will continue to check out on Neil's future films, for all the unconventional whims they might or might not provide.