In August, after more than 550 days without joining a production team, Zhao Lusi acquired 9 film and television IPs for her team all at once.
A month ago, Zhao Lusi's studio was still soliciting scripts online, but by August, the first batch of projects had been finalized, with the series of short dramas "I'm Not an NPC" starting production in Hengdian. However, Zhao Lusi did not arrange a role for herself, instead taking on the role of producer.
The company develops its own operating system but doesn't use it itself.
Such cases are multiplying. Bai Lu has started buying IP and building a slate of stories she wants to tell. Qi Wei has gone further, licensing her likeness to AI to create a "digital avatar." Zhou Yiwei, now of "uncle circle" age, is gradually stepping away from the screen and picking up the director's megaphone to helm a period drama for China Central Television. Actors are shifting their focus from fighting for the next role to finding stories, assembling projects, and even developing alternate versions of themselves.
Recently, Yang Tianzhen discussed the film and television industry's downturn with Song Jia on a show, mentioning that the number of drama series that started production this year has reportedly dropped to 30% of last year's level. According to statistics from Xiaoyu, the number of drama crews filming in Hengdian averaged 22.75 per week in the first half of 2026, a year-over-year decrease of 24.84%. The decline was as steep as 43% around the Chinese New Year period. Short dramas once absorbed a large number of actors, but this year, the number of short dramas that started production has also rapidly contracted, and AI content has begun to enter the production chain of real-person films and television shows.
The plays are becoming increasingly difficult to get, and actors have started to shift from waiting for projects to finding their own projects.
Zhao Lusi and Bai Lu are busy "making cakes", while more actors have directly moved to the other side of the film set. Entertainment Capital Theory (id:yuelezibenlun) had a conversation with Jia Jinghui, Hu Dandan, and Ding Nan, three actors who are transitioning to become directors and producers. Interestingly, they did not wait until they had no acting projects before making the switch, and after actually gaining control over their own projects, they found that they had the least amount of time to act in their own productions.
This article is based on interviews with three relevant individuals, who are also the 269th to 271st interviewees in "Entertainment Capital Theory" for 2026.
You can tell they're not going to make a movie when you see how long they're spending on live streaming.
The downturn in the film and television industry has not had a significant impact on me, because even when the industry was thriving, I didn't particularly benefit from it, so I don't feel a sense of loss now.
This is what Jia Jinghui said when Xiao Yu asked if the current film and television industry has had an impact on actors, giving a straightforward and convincing response.
However, many actors are indeed doing side jobs, such as live streaming, and even live chatting, and the time spent on live streaming is increasing, so if they're busy filming, where would they find the time? They must be idle.
Most people are unfamiliar with the name Jia Jinghui. To audiences, he is more recognizable as the actor who played various roles in many popular dramas, such as the hit series "The Legend of Qing Yu Nian", where he portrayed the somewhat silly and annoying Guo Baokun, who often clashed with Fan Xian. It's even harder to associate him with another identity - that of the director of the popular drama "The Lighthouse on the Other Shore", which broke 200 million yuan in box office sales last year.
Of course, most of the work has already been done "behind the scenes".
Jia Jinghui is undoubtedly a high-energy person, and the friends and colleagues around him all have their own stories.
Some say they haven't been on set for eight months, and others have been out of work for over a year. "Of course, there are also those in my social circle busy traveling, doing yoga, and meditating." Jia Jinghui has likely seen it all: "Some actors start feeling anxious after just ten days at home. They're used to checking their call sheets every day, setting alarms, and living by the crew's schedule. Once there's no alarm to set for the next morning, they feel completely adrift."
Jia Jinghui has experienced such days, but not now, rather in the earlier years when the industry was not as tough, he and his actress wife would each only take on one project per year. As the Spring Festival approached, even giving red envelopes to their parents and children became a big problem, and the couple still has to relive that "year-end hardship" every year to remind themselves.
Embarking on the path of directing Chinese dramas, one reason is that the scale of Chinese dramas is suitable for Jia Jinghui's transformation, and on the other hand, it is indeed because there are more good actors who can openly embrace Chinese dramas, the former "arrogance" of "being able to film TV dramas and refusing to participate in online dramas" has been slowly put aside in an era where even live-action dramas are being replaced by AI-generated dramas.
Hu Dandan was among the first wave of actors to reap benefits from short dramas. In 2022, her role in the hit short drama "Nian Nian Wu Ming" directed by Zheng Qingjie made her a household name in the industry, and she loves hearing people say "look for Hu Dandan if you want an actress with good acting skills." This transformation has turned her from a familiar face in historical dramas to an actress who can independently carry the lead role in a Chinese drama. During peak periods, she can film two to three Chinese dramas and an additional two to three long dramas per year, with her workload already saturated.
But as of 2026, Hu Dandan has yet to join the production.
She found it hard to simply attribute this to a lack of film and television projects. Last year, the Chinese drama "You Yao" she produced was released, which was also a collaboration with Yang Ze, the male lead of "Nian Nian Wu Ming". At that time, she was in a stage where she had a lot of acting work, and in order to promote her own projects, she even proactively turned down some roles that came to her. Gradually, the opportunities to act in other people's productions became fewer and fewer, and perhaps many people also assumed that she no longer acted much. This year, she still has several of her own projects in preparation and doesn't have the energy to join others' productions.
So even Hu Dandan herself finds it hard to say clearly whether her reduced roles are due to market changes or her own choices.
Some of her actor friends who were in similar situations a few years ago are "still waiting and struggling, some have switched to doing new media and are doing quite well; others have given up on long and medium-length dramas and switched to shooting short vertical screen dramas." Hu Dandan even thinks that for some people who have made a success of new media, this job is much better than being an actor, "you can decide when to release something, what content to shoot, and business income may also be more substantial. If they didn't still have a strong obsession with acting, they probably wouldn't be willing to come back and continue waiting for roles."
When Xiao Yu found Ding Nan, he was still busy with the wrap-up of the Chinese drama "Kong Bian Shuang Xiong". Before this year, he was still an artist under Guangxi Media, the same company as Ding Yu Xi and Zhang Ruonan, but now he has become a producer with a clear model, and also starred in a historical drama "Feng Wu Jiu Tian" starring Gong Jun in the first half of the year.
Judging by his resume, he doesn't seem like someone who needs to urgently find a way out. In the past, when he was just an actor, he could film three or four dramas a year, spending about half a year on set; during his three years at Enlight Media, his income was enough to support a normal life. His concern is that although he has acting opportunities, he has always found it difficult to take the next step. In the end, he decided to leave the company and go out to find new opportunities.
Ding Nan himself did not suddenly lose his job, but the situation of his friends around him constantly reminded him of the changes in the industry.
Last year, some friends around him transitioned from traditional long-form dramas to short-form vertical screen dramas, with decent data on Hongguo, earning around 20,000 yuan per day. However, this year, their pay was cut by two-thirds, leaving them with only a few thousand yuan, and they received fewer job offers. "After the New Year, many actors were left idle at home," he said. In Hengdian, he witnessed a decline in long-form dramas and S+ projects, with previously crowded areas becoming deserted, and internet-famous stores in once-lively streets also closing down.
In the past, actors were passive, waiting to see when their next role would come and what character they would play, which was difficult to decide for themselves. Now, with the decline of long dramas and the cooling down of short dramas, and AI starting to enter film and television production, this uncertainty is increasing.
AI-Generated Art from a Capital Perspective in the Entertainment Industry
Rather than waiting to be chosen, Jia Jinghui started directing, while Hu Dandan and Ding Nan turned to producing, opting to take the initiative to switch roles. However, once they actually sat on the other side of the film set, they discovered that while they had more decision-making power, their own acting careers were the first to be neglected.
The company makes cakes but doesn't eat them itself?
When Zhao Lusi and Bai Lu were hoarding IPs to "create their own projects", everyone thought that although they are top-tier actresses among their peers, they were previously restricted by their brokerage companies and found it difficult to have the freedom to choose their own roles. After regaining their independence, they immediately started "creating their own projects" in order to achieve the freedom to choose their own film and television projects.
As a result, the first project produced by Zhao Lusi's team did not star Zhao Lusi herself.
"I will absolutely not act in my own play."
Jia Jingwei clearly told Xiao Yu that during the preparation of Reba's starring role in "Although You Can't Have Everything at the Same Time", there was a character in the script that was almost written based on himself, even the name Mark was the same as his English name, but Jia Jingwei still decided to "replace himself".
Hu Dandan suffered this loss before Jia Jingrui.
In the TV series "You Yao" that aired last year, she took on the role of producer for the first time, and in order to attract investors, she decided to play the female lead. It wasn't until filming started that she discovered the two roles were almost naturally conflicting. As an actress, she could sit on set and quietly study the next scene, but as a producer, she was like a "mother" to over 100 people, and any issues that arose, such as actors falling ill, staff having emotional outbursts, or problems on set, would ultimately be brought to her.
At her busiest, Hu Dandan would shoot 16 to 18 hours a day, then continue handling production issues after wrap. Once, mid-way through hair and makeup, something went wrong on set—she ran out to fix it with her look only half done. Another time, during a romantic scene between the leads, she caught a prop out of place from the corner of her eye and instantly snapped out of character.
The effort expended by producers is absolutely a hundred times that of actors. After finishing 'You Ya', I felt like I had aged ten years.
After this play, Hu Dandan's experience for herself was simple: she could only choose to be either the producer or the female lead in the future.
Ding Nan has taken the producer's seat for the first time this year and quickly abandoned the idea of acting in his own project. For the upcoming "Kong Bian Shuang Xiong", his partner asked if he wanted to play a role, but he ultimately declined. With over 30 days of filming, the schedule of the actors, locations, and budget could change every day, and the special locations for the workplace drama needed to be reported a month in advance. Sometimes, he would be rearranging plans for the next day at midnight, leaving him no energy to prepare a role for himself.
As an actor, you only need to serve the character, but as a producer, you serve the money.
This sounds realistic, but it's the biggest feeling Ding Nan has after going behind the scenes. In the past, when he received a script, he would consider why the characters did what they did; now, when he sees the same scene, his first reaction might be how much the scene costs, whether the actors have a schedule conflict, whether the platform can accept it, and whether it can be filmed in the end.
This producer mindset also gives them a completely different perspective on AI compared to when they were just actors. In the popular show "Blind Box" starring Jia Jinghui, there is a scene where the female lead wins an award at a film festival, but the budget couldn't support a large-scale awards ceremony set. During filming, he only shot the actress turning around, intentionally leaving the audience seats behind her for post-production. In the end, AI transformed the area behind her into a three-story opera house filled with applauding audiences.
"That image is something we couldn't have achieved, but it only cost 300 yuan, because we got it in just two draws."
Traditional CG can certainly be done, but in Jia Jinghui's view, the biggest difference between the two is price. CG is more stable, while AI is like a lottery, where you might get what you want in two attempts, or you might not get the desired result even after repeated attempts. What directors and producers really need to consider is how to balance time costs and expense costs, and what kind of stories and shots are worth using AI for.
Jia Jinghui even thinks that after being behind the scenes and looking back, "being an actor is one of the most relaxed jobs in the crew". Previously, actors thought producers were cold and directors were too rushed, but after Hu Dandan became a producer herself, she was sometimes so busy that she was overwhelmed, and when she saw actors sitting there quietly rehearsing their scripts, she couldn't help but feel envious.
So when actors move behind the scenes, it's somewhat contrary to the outside world's imagination of "being in charge and giving oneself a leg up".
They did gain more decision-making power over projects, but in exchange, they went from being responsible for a single role to being accountable for dozens or even hundreds of people. In the end, what gets sacrificed first is often their own identity as actors.
The play they initiated themselves, they may not have time to perform in, which is perhaps the first reality actors face after moving to the other side of the camera.
The best "career transition" is not waiting until there are no more films to shoot.
They were replaced by AI because there were no more films to shoot, and then they were forced to transition behind the scenes, I think it's even harder for people like that to enter a new profession.
The points or catalysts at which Jia Jinghui, Hu Dandan, and Ding Nan stepped behind the scenes were, for the most part, not due to the "film and television downturn leaving no roles to play".
Jia Jinghui began incubating "Although You Can't Have Everything" four years ago, when the industry was in a much better state, and he was also working as an actor, filming during the day and attending script meetings and making phone calls to advance the project at night. For him, being a director is not a fallback plan, but something he has wanted to do for a long time and has been slowly working towards.
Hu Dandan is another example, her 2021 drama "The Husband" became a hit at the beginning of the year, and in 2022, she benefited from the popularity of short dramas with "The Memory About You", and later, amidst her busy acting schedule, she began to seriously consider becoming a producer.
At first, people advised her to transition into producing, but she resisted. "I didn't want to be a businessperson. I always thought of myself as an artist." It wasn't until she heard a friend say, "A producer isn't just a businessperson—they're also the first initiator of a story. They get to decide what content they want to make and who they want to bring along to make it happen." Only then did Hu Dandan suddenly feel that this was something truly interesting.
As for "transferring to a new industry", she has also tried doing other businesses outside of acting. She liked flowers, so she opened a flower shop; she liked drinking milk tea, so she opened a milk tea shop; she did whatever she liked, but ultimately ended up failing after trying a few things. It wasn't until the end that she discovered that what she liked and what she was truly good at were not the same thing. What she was most familiar with and had accumulated the most experience in was still the film and television industry.
Jia Jinghui had earlier experimented with a true "side hustle". After graduating from the Shanghai Theatre Academy and working as a theater actor, he earned only a few hundred yuan per performance, so he opened a clothing store. Later, with the rise of e-commerce, the physical store became unprofitable and was closed, and he began to pursue a career as a film and television actor. After many years of twists and turns, his true additional profession is now also that of a director.
Ding Nan's transition was more coincidental. In March or April this year, a director he had previously collaborated with asked him if he wanted to try his hand at production. He didn't have a grand plan for transformation, and at first, he just thought he could give it a try to see if he had more possibilities. Now, he feels that even if he doesn't act in the future, he will likely remain in the film and television industry.
They are not waiting until their acting career is completely stalled before hastily finding their next job.
Hu Dandan is now relieved, because if she had waited until she had no film projects to work on before considering a career change, it might have been too late. Directors and producers also need to relearn, accumulate resources, and wait for projects, and there is no identity that can automatically become a fallback the day after an actor loses their job.
This is also the biggest difference between an actor "proactively choosing a career" and simply finding a side job. Some people are suited to live streaming, some to doing business, and others, after trying their hand at various things, discover that their true talent still lies in film work. Rather than waiting for a job to disappear before making a move, it's better to take advantage of the options available and prepare multiple ways to stay in the industry.
As Jia Jingwei said, "No one knows which cloud will rain first, so it's better to prepare multiple clouds." However, these clouds don't necessarily have to be far from the film and television industry.
Particularly as AI has begun to rewrite film and television production, it's difficult for anyone to predict what the job of an actor will look like in a few years. But at the very least, for Jia Jinghui, Hu Dandan, and Ding Nan, they haven't left the film and television industry - they've just expanded what they're capable of doing from a single role to an entire project.
Acting remains a profession that waits to be chosen, but at least they now have more than one option.