Ne Zha II on HBO Max: Visually Arresting Yet Overstuffed, Critics Say
Critics laud the animation and voice work, but fault the sprawling mythology and relentless spectacle as the film streams after a record box-office run.
Ne Zha II, the aggressively dazzling Chinese animated sequel from director Jiaozi, closed its box-office run with a reported $2.2 billion worldwide and has since migrated to HBO Max for streaming. In the United States, A24 picked up distribution to widen access, pairing an English-language dub led by Michelle Yeoh with a relentless parade of eye-popping visuals that dominate the frame even as the story struggles to find a steady emotional throughline.
The film continues the saga of Ne Zha (Crystal Lee) and Ao Bing (Aleks Le), two misfit protagonists tethered by a magical orb. After the tumult of the first film, they find themselves briefly bodyless; Taiyi (Rick Zeiff) forges fresh forms from lotus petals, but Ao Guang’s (Christopher Swindle) demon horde—led by Shen Gongbao (Daniel Riordan)—arrives to disrupt the process. The clash devastates Ao Bing’s fragile vessel, leaving him spirit-bound to Ne Zha’s body and giving Ne Zha two concurrent personalities to juggle: the weaponized hothead and a calmer, more reflective self. To release Ao Bing from the bind, Ne Zha must undertake a quest to complete three tasks ordered by the bulbous-headed Immortal Wuliang (William Utay) in order to obtain a potion capable of restoring Ao Bing’s body. A high-stakes option allows Ne Zha’s consciousness to sleep while Ao Bing temporarily inhabits the body, a switch that becomes crucial for moments requiring restraint over impulse.
They set off, riding a flying pig in what becomes a running visual gag and a reminder of the film’s appetite for bold symbolism. Along the way, they encounter a tour of fantastical foes—from a cadre of marmot-like groundshogs to a demon trainer and a kaleidoscopic array of elemental battles across land, sea and air. The plot unfolds through a sequence of set pieces that pile onto each other in rapid succession: a revenge subplot, skirmishes atop wobbly bamboo poles, a confrontation with a monstrous adversary resembling a hybrid of Clayface and the Oogie Boogie Man, and a sweeping, endgame clash that dwarfs earlier action beats. The film’s mythology is dense, with frequent references and rules that demand a level of familiarity with Chinese myth and Investitures of the Gods lore to fully parse.
Above all, Ne Zha II makes its mark with a staggering visual temperament. The animation blends a DreamWorks-like polish—think the sweeping textures of How to Train Your Dragon and the bustling energy of Shrek and Kung Fu Panda—with Japanese anime histrionics and a wuxia backbone that evokes Hero and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. The result is a film that feels at once familiar and relentlessly futuristic, a panorama of jade temples, deserts, forests, seas and skies that never stops throwing new color and texture at the viewer.
Crystal Lee’s Ne Zha delivers a line-read performance that lands as comic and cranky in equal measure, a voice that can flip from snark to earnest in a single beat. The film leans into humor built on Ne Zha and Ao Bing’s uneasy alliance, but the humor often lands in a tonal zone that can veer toward crude or crude-adjacent gags, including urine- and vomit-based bits and a generally brash sensibility that may not land for every viewer. The sheer scale and density of the world-building also challenge the audience to stay invested in emotional stakes that can feel buried beneath spectacle.
The review notes that while the film achieves a high-water mark for animation craft, it can also feel like an avalanche of jaw-dropping moments that overwhelm rather than deepen character connection. In short, Ne Zha II is “a bit much times a million.”Its 145-minute runtime pushes the envelope of what modern animated epics can be, and for some viewers the cumulative effect is exhilarating; for others, it becomes a blur of set pieces that outpace narrative clarity. The critic concedes there is genuine artistry in the creature design—massive monster turtles, gnashing shark-men, a tentacled octopus figure that regenerates its own tentacles, and a panorama of surreal, toxic-green imagery from the pig-led sequences to the gleaming jade temples—but the sheer volume of spectacle wins out over any sustained emotional engagement.
Our take: Ne Zha II earns high marks for visual intensity and technical prowess, yet it asks too much of the viewer in service of a dense mythic machine. While some audiences may savor the film’s opulent scope, others may find the experience exhausting and opt to skip the deeper dive into its lore. Ultimately, the film’s loud beauty and technical bravura are juxtaposed with a narrative that struggles to justify its own volume.
The U.S. streaming release on HBO Max follows a widely publicized international rollout that positioned Ne Zha II among the ranks of global box-office juggernauts. The English-language dub, anchored by Yeoh and a robust voice cast, helps broaden accessibility for non-Chinese-speaking audiences, though it does not resolve the film’s structural complexity or emotional throughline.
In the broader cultural context, Ne Zha II’s performance underscores the growing global appetite for high-concept Chinese animation, as the industry leverages advanced visual language to compete on a worldwide stage. Whether the film’s sheer audacity will translate into lasting cultural impact remains to be seen, but its immediate impact on audiences—visually and technically—has already been undeniable. As a standalone entertainment experience, it stands as a testament to the power of animation to push boundaries; as a narrative work, it remains a challenge for viewers seeking a clear throughline amidst a dazzling mosaic of myth, action and spectacle.