Aamir Khan’s big screen comeback, Sitaare Zameen Par, features an all-star neurodivergent cast – a Bollywood first

Yanyan Hong, University of Adelaide

Bollywood star Aamir Khan’s return to the big screen after a three-year hiatus has been far from ordinary. Sitaare Zameen Par (2025) which translates to “stars on Earth”, is the first major Bollywood production to feature a mostly neurodivergent cast.

A remake of the 2018 Spanish film Campeones, the story follows a mouthy, knuckle-headed basketball coach, Gulshan (Aamir Khan), who is put in charge of a team of players with intellectual disabilities.

The film slowly grows into itself, much like its characters, but ultimately delivers what the trailer promises: a heartwarming, humorous and uplifting celebration of our individual differences.

In an era of blockbuster spectacles, Aamir Khan Productions brings back a kind of Bollywood storytelling we haven’t seen in a while – something sincere, gentle and quietly revolutionary.

Who is Aamir Khan?

Aamir Khan was born in Mumbai in 1965, and started his acting career as a child actor in his uncle’s film Yaadon Ki Baaraat (1973).

Khan is now one of Bollywood’s most enduring and respected figures. He is one of the iconic “three Khans”, alongside Shah Rukh Khan and Salman Khan (the three are unrelated), who have dominated Indian cinema since the 1990s.

But unlike his Khan counterparts, Aamir Khan has carved a unique career path built on both commercial success and socially-driven storytelling.

He is known for championing social causes through cinema. In one 2015 article, media studies professor Vamsee Juluri referred to him as a “national conscience figure”.

Khan’s films don’t just entertain; they challenge norms and often spark national conversations on important issues.

From producing Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India (2001), India’s Oscar-nominated colonial-era sports epic, to his directorial debut Taare Zameen Par (2007), a moving portrait of a child with dyslexia, Khan’s work often brings underrepresented stories to the mainstream.

His film PK (2014) challenges religious dogma. Meanwhile, Dangal (2016) is a boundary-pushing film based on real-life female wrestlers from rural India, and is also Bollywood’s highest-grossing film of all time.

Beyond the box office, Khan has hosted the TV show Satyamev Jayate (2012–14), which is also the national emblem of India, meaning “truth alone triumphs”.

This show tackles various topics considered taboo in Indian societies, including female feticide, domestic violence and caste discrimination. It has reached millions of households, and even ignited parliamentary debates.

Khan is also popular in other countries, including China, where his films 3 Idiots (2009), Dangal (2016) and Secret Superstar (2017) were massive hits that resonated with audiences for their universal themes.

Sitaare Zameen Par marks his return following the commercial underperformance of Laal Singh Chaddha (2022), an Indian remake of Forrest Gump (1994).

Sitaare (stars) who make the film shine

Directed by R.S. Prasanna, Sitaare Zameen Par enjoyed a strong opening weekend at the box office.

It stars ten individuals with special needs as they prepare for a basketball tournament under the direction of their coach (Khan). This plot alone makes the film a significant entry to Indian cinema, which often ignores or misrepresents disability.

Despite early online trolling and negativity, the film depicts its neurodivergent characters not as victims, or “inspirations”, but simply as people with dreams, struggles and joy.

One line captures this beautifully: “Everyone sticks to their own normal. We each have our own normal.”

Aamir Khan, now 60, plays a key role in the film, but doesn’t dominate it. Instead, his younger co-stars shine. The result is a healing film that celebrates inclusion, while being full of joy and humanity.

Stories that matter

No film is perfect. But it’s hard to dislike a film made with so much compassion.

Bollywood as an industry has increasingly leaned into action-packed blockbusters, as well as nationalist and Hindu-centred narratives (such as in the 2022 film Brahmāstra).

While many of these offer thrills, few deliver the kind of emotional and social depth that once defined Hindi cinema’s global appeal. Much like Taare Zameen Par – a spiritual prequel to the new release – did 18 years ago, Sitaare Zameen Par invites the audience to slow down and reflect.

It prompts neurotypical viewers to see people with Down’s syndrome as part of the same emotional universe as them – and to laugh with, not at them.

In an interview, Khan explains how the film goes further than just neurodivergent representation, to participation:

In [Taare Zameen Par], it’s the teacher, Nikumbh, a supposedly neuro-typical person, who helps the child with dyslexia. In this film, ten neuro-atypical people are helping the coach, Gulshan. I feel Sitare takes the discourse of the first film ten steps ahead, especially in our country where people need to be sensitised to the topic of neurodivergence.

Last week, India’s president, Droupadi Murmu, attended a special screening and met the cast. The visit sent a clear messsage: stories like this matter.

With Sitaare Zameen Par, Aamir Khan returns to what he does best: using film as both a mirror and message for Indian society. While it won’t change the world overnight, it will make viewers see the world, and each other, a little differently.

Yanyan Hong, PhD Candidate in Communication, Media and Film Studies, University of Adelaide

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Read More........ → July 02, 2025

Ne Zha 2: the ancient philosophies behind China’s record-breaking new animated film

Yanyan Hong, University of Adelaide

On the surface, Ne Zha 2: The Sea’s Fury (2025), the sequel to the 2019 Chinese blockbuster Nezha: Birth of the Demon Child, is a high-octane, action-packed and visually stunning animated spectacle, full of hilarious moments and thrilling fight scenes.

But beneath all that, it’s something much deeper: a bold re-imagining of Chinese traditional mythology, cultural history and philosophies.

Unlike Hollywood’s classic hero’s journey, Ne Zha 2 is rooted in Chinese thought, weaving together ideas from Buddhism, Confucianism, Daoism, Mohism, Legalism and more.

Through the story of a baby-faced warrior god who battles demons, it channels centuries of Chinese tradition into something refreshing, relevant and undeniably global.

The film’s success speaks for itself. Directed by Yang Yu (aka Jiao Zi), Ne Zha 2 has shattered multiple global box office records, pulling in more than US$1 billion in China in just one week.

It has entered the top 10 highest-grossing films of all time, and has become the highest-grossing animated film – outperforming Inside Out 2 (2024).

But what makes Ne Zha 2 so compelling beyond its visual spectacle? At its heart, it’s an inspiring story about identity, free will, self-determination and rebellion – ideas that resonate far beyond China.

A child hero forged in myth and philosophy

Ne Zha is a rebellious deity in traditional Chinese folklore – a boy born with immense superpower, who defies both divine and social expectations.

Most people who know of Ne Zha will trace his legend back to Fengshen Yanyi, or Investiture of the Gods, a Ming Dynasty novel that blends mythology with historical elements.

Ne Zha’s true origins, however, trace back to India.

“Ne Zha” is a shortened transliteration of the Sanskrit Nalakuvara (or Nalakūbara), an Indian mythological figure who appears in Buddhist and Hindu mythology.

As Buddhism spread to China during the Tang Dynasty, Ne Zha evolved from an intimidating guardian deity into the rebellious, fire-wheeled warrior we know today.

In Ne Zha 2, this “fighting spirit” against authority and hierarchy is taken even further, turning the story into a deeper philosophical exploration of morality, fate, self-worth and power.

Good and evil – a Daoist perspective

One of the most thought-provoking aspects of Ne Zha 2 is how it challenges the idea of good and evil.

In Daoist philosophy, evil and good, often known as Yin and Yang, are not absolute, but are rather shifting, interconnected forces.

Through its two protagonists: the “Demon Pill” (Ne Zha) and his noble dragon prince buddy, “Spirit Pearl” (Ao Bing), the film beautifully reflects this Daoist idea of balance and self-discovery.

Their merging further blurs the line between hero and villain and brings to life a core concept from the 2,400-year-old text Dao De Jing (Tao Te Ching), written around 400 BC by Chinese philosopher Laozi (also called Lao Tzu).

Laozi emphasises that righteousness and villainy aren’t always what they seem. “When the world knows beauty as beauty, there arises ugliness,” he says.

Those we assume to be noble may turn out to be dark inside, while those deemed evil might be fighting for what is right.

Ne Zha’s character in the film embodies this Daoist philosophy. Echoing the Xisheng Jing, The Scripture of Western Ascension, he declares, “My fate is up to me, not the Heaven.”

He is the demon child who is willing to die fighting for his own destiny, proving that even the smallest, most underestimated individual can change the world.

Beyond family bonds: rebirth of Confucianism

In one scene, Ne Zha is struck by the “heart-piercing curse”, a brutal spell that covers his body in ten thousand thorns, causing unbearable pain and keeping him under control by targeting his heart. Ne Zha’s human mother, Lady Yin, clings to him as his thorns pierce her skin – yet she refuses to let go.

It’s a moment of heartbreak, parental love and inner awakening. As his mother takes her final breath, in Ne Zha’s grief, his body shatters into a million pieces. And then, he is reborn.

This is the film’s emotional climax, in which the so-called demon child awakens to “Rén” (benevolence), a core Confucian virtue.

Confucianism teaches that true morality isn’t imposed by rules but arises naturally from within. Ne Zha doesn’t just seek revenge, he awakes to fight for those who have been oppressed, embracing his identity with unwavering resolve.

But perhaps the most profound transformation comes from the dragon prince Ao Bing. As the last hope of his people, burdened by centuries of expectation, he finally makes a choice, not for legacy, not for his ancestors, but for himself.

In this moment, his once-imposing father Dragon King releases his grip: “Your path is yours to forge.”

The weight of tradition gives way to something new, reflecting a changing China where younger generations are defining their own paths.

Wisdom of Legalism and Mohism

Beyond Daoist and Confucian ideals, Ne Zha 2 also weaves in Legalist reform and Mohist resistance. These philosophies challenge rigid hierarchies (or in Ne Zha’s case, “divine order”) and advocate for collective justice.

Across Ne Zha’s three major trials and the climactic celestial-demon war, a brutal truth emerges: those deemed unworthy – whether groundhogs, mystical beings, or ordinary humans – are sacrificed to uphold the elite’s rule.

Take the small groundhogs. Dressed in patched clothes, surviving on pumpkin porridge. They’ve never harmed anyone. Yet, they are mercilessly crushed in the name of celestial balance.

Then there’s Shiji Niangniang, or Lady Rock, a recluse who harms no one. She indulges only in her own beauty and speaks to her enchanted mirror. Yet the heavens brand her a demon, sealing her fate.

A similar cruelty befalls the Dragon Clan and the people of Chentangguan, all caught in a war where they are mere pawns on a celestial chessboard.

Even the last battle is not just Ne Zha’s fight, but a battlefield showing the Chinese spirit of collectivism. Dragons, shrimp soldiers, crab generals, octopus warriors, humans and millions of goblins stand side by side to rewrite destiny.

The celestial-demon war itself plays out like a lesson in Sun Tzu’s Art of War, which states that “All warfare is based on deception.” War is about strategy, resilience and the unstoppable will to rise.

Ne Zha carries the weight of Eastern cultural essence: Daoist balance, Confucian ethics, Mohist resistance, Legalist reform and the strategic wisdom of The Art of War. It is a truly Chinese story, igniting next year’s Oscar buzz and sparking a global awakening to Eastern culture.

Just as Ne Zha is reborn in flames, so too does Chinese animation rise, not by breaking from its past, but by forging a bold future.

Yanyan Hong, PhD Candidate in Communication and Media Studies, University of Adelaide

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Read More........ → February 19, 2025

When does an actor stop, and AI begin? What The Brutalist and Emilia Pérez tell us about AI in Hollywood

Amy Hume, The University of Melbourne

The Brutalist has drawn attention this week for its use of artificial intelligence (AI) to refine some of the actors’ dialogue.

Emilia Pérez, a musical crime comedy, also used AI to extend lead star Karla Sofía Gascón’s vocal range. Her singing voice was blended with that of French popstar Camille, who co-wrote the film.

Earlier this month, Adrien Brody won the Golden Globe for best male actor for The Brutalist for his portrayal of the fictional Hungarian-Jewish Holocaust survivor László Tóth. He is a favourite to win the award at the Oscars, and Emilia Pérez is also a strong contender this awards season.

But should actors be eligible for awards if AI was used to refine a performance?

Can AI make ‘perfect’ possible?

The Brutalist’s editor, Dávid Jancsó, was the first to discuss the film’s use of AI. A native Hungarian speaker, Jancsó wanted the Hungarian language dialogue to sound flawless, “so that not even locals will spot any difference”.

Director Brady Corbet has been quick to clarify exactly how AI was used, emphasising the performances of Brody and his co-star Felicity Jones are their own.

In a statement, Corbet explained an AI tool from Ukrainian software company Respeecher was used only to edit the Hungarian language dialogue, “specifically to refine certain vowels and letters for accuracy”.

Corbet insists Brody’s and Jones’ performances in The Brutalist haven’t been replaced. Instead, they consented to a process of their voices being merged with dialogue recorded by Jancsó to ensure accurate Hungarian pronunciation. Their English dialogue remains untouched.

For Emilia Pérez, the film’s re-recording mixer Cyril Holtz said the process of extending Gascón’s range required collaboration from multiple artists.

AI in the film and television industry was a major concern of the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike – and the fight for protections in the industry is far from over.

While the use of AI here may be limited to refining language portrayal, or extending a singer’s vocal range, it raises broader questions: what level of authenticity and accuracy are we comfortable with? If AI makes “perfect” possible, are we setting “perfect” as the new standard?

The role of the accent coach

Brody and Jones worked with accent coach Tanera Marshall to hone their Hungarian accents for The Brutalist. This accent is used in their English dialogue, which comprises the majority of the film.

As a voice and accent coach, my work involves training and supporting an actor’s voice to meet the demands of performance spaces, character and script. This includes building stamina for healthy, sustainable vocal use and equipping actors with skills to learn different accents.

By working with an accent coach, actors develop a dexterity key for mastering new accents and sustaining them throughout a performance.

Voice and accent work is central to a transformation into a character. Accents aren’t merely about modifying vowels and consonants. They involve rhythm, intonation, melody, and resonance. These elements inform and are informed by the life of the character.

For Brody and Jones, learning a Hungarian accent would have been integral to their process. The accent is inseparable from the portrayal of their characters.

It’s standard practice for actors to re-record some dialogue in automated dialogue replacement (ADR) during post-production. This can address background noise, minor script changes or accent slips. The accent coach typically accompanies the actor in the sound studio to ensure consistency.

However, according to Jancsó, even ADR wasn’t enough to perfect the Hungarian dialogue in The Brutalist. That’s when AI was introduced.

Accents are expressions of cultural identity, conveying as much about a character as their appearance. There is always a degree of variance as the actor makes the accent and performance their own. That’s part of creating a believable performance.

Unfortunately, filmmakers sometimes overlook the importance of accurate accent portrayal, opting instead for what they perceive as more universally accessible or commercially viable accents, or prioritising other elements of production like pacing or visual effects over linguistic precision.

The Brutalist’s commitment to linguistic precision is commendable. But are we comfortable with AI being the solution?

And the award goes to … AI?

The editing process revealed by The Brutalist and Emilia Pérez may be more common than we realise.

Rami Malek’s singing as Freddie Mercury in the biopic Bohemian Rhapsody (2018) was a mix of Queen master tapes, recordings by Canadian Christian rock singer Marc Martel (known for sounding like Mercury) and Malek’s voice.

Malek still won the best actor Oscar for his performance, even though the vocals were a blend. They were just one element of Bohemian Rhapsody, in the same way the Hungarian dialogue is just one aspect of The Brutalist.

In September 2024, Screen Australia released key principles to guide its approach to AI, prioritising human talent, transparency, ethical design, diversity, equity and inclusion, fairness and responsibility.

Much like these guidelines suggest, in The Brutalist and Emilia Pérez, the actors gave their consent, their talent was prioritised, and the filmmakers were transparent about the process. There’s even an argument that The Brutalist’s dedication to accurate Hungarian representation promotes inclusivity for an underrepresented language in Hollywood.

But it’s a slippery slope. When does refining turn into creating an entire voice through AI? And if accents and vocal ranges become easily modifiable, how long before actors themselves are at risk of redundancy?

The Brutalist is an exploration of complex themes around artistic integrity. Ironically, it may lean on technology that risks undermining the authenticity it strives to achieve. This paradox is worth reflecting on. In perfecting the portrayal of the human experience, are we losing some of its essence?

Amy Hume, Lecturer In Theatre (Voice), Victorian College of the Arts, The University of Melbourne

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Read More........ → February 12, 2025