When Earth Itself Becomes Hero
The Wandering Earth begins with the remarkable premise of the sun expanding and threatening to consume Earth. Rather than abandoning their home, humanity plans to build thousands of massive engines to push the planet out of its orbit and set it on a journey across the galaxy. It was a strange mix of extraordinary myth-making and a science fiction story.
Amidst this cosmic transformation, the stories of a few characters remain the focus. Liu Peiqiang, an astronaut stationed far away, and his son, Liu Qi, a wayward young man on the frozen surface, comprise the narrative core. Their character arcs, seamlessly intertwined and dramatically juxtaposed, are the soul of the spectacle.
Liu Peiqiang: Carrying the Weight of Sacrifice
As Wu Jing’s character, Liu Peiqiang is a man who, for years, has watched Earth suffer from a high, far away orbit. Only he knows that he has to return just as Jupiter’s gravity is about to pull the Earth apart. Peiqiang is the embodiment of fatherly guilt and soldierly resolve, a duality that is central to the narrative. He cannot be with his son, but he can ensure that all of humanity has a chance.
His character reaches its peak with breathtaking sacrifices—confronting dangerous scenarios with little chance of survival. He is not idealized as a superhero, but as a man who performs acts that society demands of him because his moral compass imposes no less.
Wu Jing’s narrative anchors his role with added devotion. Noted for his physical discipline and nationalistic portrayal of action-hero roles, Wu carried that same vigour in Peiqiang. He prepped by studying astronaut body movements during weightlessness. He researched the psychological effects of solitude. There is a quiet dignity in his portrayal that does not purely stem from his training but from his identity as an actor who, because of his roles, has long been expected to be “the national hero” on screen.
Liu Qi: Anger, Growth, and the Fire of Youth
Opposite him is Qu Chuxiao’s Liu Qi, a young man raised without his father and brimming with anger. He sneaks out to see the forbidden sky, resents authority, and pushes back against the responsibility thrust upon him. His arc is one of reluctant transformation—from rebellion to recognition that sacrifice is not just his father’s burden but something he, too, must embrace.
Qu Chuxiao’s relative inexperience was compensated by tapping into the emotions of many of today’s youth. These emotions include parents who work far away, the conflict between modernity and traditions, and the struggle of trying to find one’s self in a fragmented society. He was able to infuse Liu Qi with a type of rawness that audiences responded to, a type that captured not only the reckless youth, but also the reality of the son trapped in the conflict of resentment and responsibility.
The conflict between the father and son reflected a certain cultural dialogue in China. The older generation, who was the one to sacrifice, and the younger one, who was restless, yet ready to slowly take on the weight of responsibility.
Beneath the science fiction themes, The Wandering Earth portrays deeply rooted Chinese culture. The principles of filial piety, family unity, and the collective survival of a community over the individual are the driving forces behind the characters. Liu Peiqiang’s sacrifice is for his son, but also for “home”, a metaphor for Earth.
Simultaneously, the film addressed global concerns. With climate change and ecological collapse at the forefront, the image of people trying to defend Earth resonated with audiences. While Western works of sci-fi tend to imagine escaping to other planets, The Wandering Earth focuses on leaving with your homeland, cybernetic engines and all. That difference made it feel both fresh and culturally distinct.
The Anticipation Prior to the Release
During the trailers, released right before the Lunar New Year of 2019, audiences were promised a spectacle never attempted in Chinese cinema: frozen Beijing skylines, gigantic planetary engines, and a menacing Jupiter in the background. Speculations on whether China could finally compete with Hollywood in blockbusters began circulating among sci-fi enthusiasts.
By the time it premiered, the hype crossed the threshold into astonishment. The film achieved box office success and became one of the most profitable Chinese films in history. Internationally, it was viewed as a turning point, demonstrating that Chinese cinema could produce science fiction epics with a beating heart and magnitude.
The large-scale action sequences, including truck pursuits across icy terrain and large-scale detonation of the Earth engines, drew and captivated the audience. However, it was the quieter moments—the closing sacrifice of Peiqiang, Liu Qi’s acceptance of his responsibility, and the courageous determination of Han Duoduo despite her young age—that moved the audience to tears.
Serendipity in Casting
Leading role casting had its own unexpected cinematic turns. Qu Chuxiao was “discovered” quite by accident. During another drama’s shoot, a photo was taken in a café and sent to director Frant Gwo, who was impressed by Qu’s look and intensity. The snapshot was the basis for casting Qu as Liu Qi.
For the role of Captain Wang Lei, producers “discovered” Li Guangjie because they saw him in costume for another project. They thought of his quiet strength as a fitting addition to the moral center of the film. The cast combining veterans and newcomers introduced a unique balance of seasoned star power and fresh energy to the film.
The Battle to Build a New World on Screen
There were considerable difficulties behind the spectacle. Much of the film was shot on vast sets that were designed to replicate underground cities and frozen wastelands and at the time temperatures were freezing. Actors faced the challenge of performing on green screens, where complete landscapes would be added digitally, for long stretches of time in cumbersome suits and having to react to green screens.
One of the most physically demanding scenes in the film was the spacewalk sequence for Wu Jing in which the actor had to execute precision in zero gravity. In the same film, Qu Chuxiao had to perform emotionally in the midst of the bomb and pyrotechnic sequences, of which the fury visualized effects exploded.
For the visual effects team and the director, the film had a lot riding on it. Chinese sci-fi had very little predictive success at this scale and the investors had every reason to be worried. Would it be believable? Would it be profitable? The film was a visual marvel and proved to the investors and audiences alike that there is a demand for epic Chinese films.
What It Meant for the Actors
For Wu Jing, the film was a defining performance in his career. He gained the reputation for not only taking action film and patriotism, but also for for portraying characters that are associated with military heroism on the screens.
For Qu Chuxiao, it was a launchpad. For a near-unknown actor, he shot into the firmament, his smoldering intensity garnering attention. The film broadened his horizons and cemented his position in the industry.
Zhao Jinmai, who played Han Duoduo, was the audience’s favorite. The youthful defiance and courage she displayed captivated many. Most saw her as a symbol of China’s younger generation—idealistic, courageous, and unyielding.
The Legacy of a Wandering Planet
What sticks is not the spectacle of the engines pushing the Earth through space, but the passion and spirit of humanity that it contained. Liu Peiqiang’s pass into eternity, the hard-won maturity of Liu Qi, the unrelenting fire of Han Duoduo—they are the heart that beats beneath the machinery.
The film was not merely a showcase of effects. It told a story of a generation, provided a lens of culture, and signaled to the globe that grounded within human emotion, Chinese cinema could conceive and envision galactic aspirations.