'Letter to Grandma' Earns $2 Billion Amid United Front Controversy: Third-Generation Overseas Teochew Reveals Historical Truths the Film Didn't Tell

Directed and written by mainland Chinese filmmaker Lan Hongchun, and starring emerging mainland actors Li Sitong, Wang Yantong, Wu Shaoqing, Zheng Runqi, and Wang Xiaohui, the low-budget film 'Letter to Grandma' explores the Teochew region's 'Xia Nan Yang' (migration to Southeast Asia) and the historical practice of 'Qiaopi'—overseas remittances accompanied by personal letters. The film has grossed around 2 billion RMB (approximately NT$6.7 billion) in mainland China and overseas markets. It is also scheduled for its public premiere in Taiwan at the 2026 Taoyuan Film Festival in mid-August.

In response, Mr. Zhou, a third-generation overseas Teochew descendant who has emigrated abroad, told Storm Media that while the film's storyline is moving, it omits several crucial historical details.

'Letter to Grandma,' a new film that has touched millions of Chinese viewers, achieved massive box office success despite a modest production budget of just 14 million RMB (about NT$67 million). Entirely filmed in the Teochew dialect and featuring many amateur actors, it has been hailed as this year's cinematic 'dark horse.' Its global box office revenue has reached nearly NT$10 billion—a 'miracle' that has sparked widespread discussion.

However, due to Taiwan's lottery-based system for screening mainland Chinese films, it remains uncertain whether the film will be released in local theaters.

Nonetheless, since the film has been screened in Hong Kong, Macau, various Southeast Asian countries, Japan, and even Western nations, many Taiwanese audiences have had the opportunity to view it overseas, earning positive reviews. At the same time, controversy has emerged in Taiwan and Southeast Asia after a Singaporean media outlet published a column warning that the film is a highly effective 'united front' propaganda piece.

In light of this, Storm Media conducted a special interview with Mr. Zhou, a third-generation overseas Teochew descendant from Guangdong's Chaoshan region, who has already seen the film. From his personal experience and family history, he shared insights into certain aspects of the film, hoping to present the true history of 'Qiaopi' among overseas Chinese communities—neither overly romanticizing it nor dismissing it entirely as propaganda.

Mr. Zhou told Storm Media that his grandfather left mainland China via British-ruled Hong Kong in the 1930s, and the family gradually migrated overseas. Born in Chaoshan, Guangdong, his grandfather secured a managerial position at a foreign company, eventually becoming what could be described as an 'overseas success story.' As such, until the 1980s, he continued sending 'Qiaopi'—letters and money—to relatives in mainland China, including funds for repairing ancestral graves.

Mr. Zhou recalled that his grandmother once 'complained' while alive that the money her husband sent back to elders in their hometown in Chaoshan was enough to buy 'an entire street of houses' for their own family—highlighting how widespread 'Qiaopi' once was and reflecting the deep concern overseas Chinese had for their hometowns and elders. However, according to Mr. Zhou, this historical backdrop was not without its 'dark side,' a critical aspect he believes the film fails to adequately address.

He pointed out that before the Chinese Communist Party came to power in 1949, 'Qiaopi' served as a way for overseas Chinese to support relatives in mainland China, but afterward, its nature gradually changed, and parts of it were likely embezzled. 'For my family, and for other older relatives from the same Zhou clan in Chaoshan—those of my father’s generation—the 'Qiaopi' became, to some extent, a basis for demanding money from younger generations overseas.'

As evidence, Mr. Zhou showed Storm Media a 1955 remittance receipt from his grandfather, sent through the officially authorized Nanyang Commercial Bank to relatives in their hometown. The amount was HK$40. However, Mr. Zhou explained that at the official exchange rate in mainland China at the time, HK$40 could be exchanged for less than RMB 20, with additional handling fees deducted at multiple levels. 'This whole process was essentially profiting off overseas Chinese,' he said.

According to Mr. Zhou’s research, prior to 1949, 'Qiaopi' had relatively little official involvement. International remittances and letter deliveries were primarily handled by private 'money shops' (qianzhuang), which were 'less influenced by political factors.' Around 1949, trusted community leaders began acting as intermediaries. Therefore, in Mr. Zhou’s view, the film’s unified portrayal of 'Qiaopi' appears oversimplified and idealized. 'Qiaopi evolved in stages,' he emphasized.

Moreover, Mr. Zhou believes there are many unspoken historical truths from before China’s 1978 'Reform and Opening-Up' policy that viewers should pay attention to. For example, during the 1950s, political campaigns like 'struggle against landlords' were common across mainland China. 'Simply put, even after receiving remittances, relatives in mainland China would continue to be persecuted.' While some individuals might have used the funds to secure lighter job assignments, Mr. Zhou noted that local officials often demanded luxury watches and other bribes.

He explained that from the 1970s onward, 'Qiaopi' became more formalized, with some overseas Chinese in Southeast Asia sending rice, oil, and medicinal herbs back to mainland China. After the 1980s reforms, many began sending funds for ancestral grave renovations and purchasing Western-style clothing for relatives. 'My grandfather was still sending money to repair our ancestral grave in 1980,' he said. 'Photos were sent back from the hometown proving the work was actually done and the money wasn’t stolen.'

Nevertheless, overall, Mr. Zhou still recommends the film to Taiwanese audiences. During a recent trip to Thailand, he discovered that many Chinese in Bangkok’s Chinatown, particularly along Yaowarat Road featured in the film, are descendants of Teochew migrants. Some Thai-Chinese still speak the Teochew dialect, making him feel deeply connected.

Mr. Zhou, who recently moved, found numerous previously unseen 'Qiaopi' documents while cleaning out his old home—direct proof of many family stories passed down orally by elders. Since there are too many to photograph and they contain personal privacy, he could only show Storm Media a small portion. Jokingly, he said the amount of money his grandfather sent back to mainland China, adjusted for inflation, is now incalculable. 'That money should have been the real love letter from my grandfather to my grandmother.'