Strong women is no longer a niche genre reserved for the heroine outliers. The Chinese drama In Between (2024) stands out for that reason. Adapted from the original novel “There Are No Good Men and Women Here” by Lui Cui Hu, In Between questions the mundanity of romantic love in contemporary Chinese hustling culture among the “half-ripe” city dwellers, whose adulthood and adolescence coexist regardless of age.
In Between, in a literal sense, implies the transitional tale. Living alone, clocking in to work, and clocking out to meet up with friends are what adulting seems like, but that does not equate to full bloom. This is how emotion drives the dynamics of the game. Regardless of gender, this female-oriented drama demonstrates how emotion can outweigh morality in the face of careful scheming or careless rationalization.
In fact, this is the story of urban love polygons. Cliché? Yes and no. In Between tries to break down the patterns of abuse in relationships, exemplifying an alarm for emotional exploitation and manipulation. With subtle yet noticeable intensity, women here are given the space to exercise their agency upon the social expectations they do not subscribe to. This is the kind of portrayal hardly seen in dramas from the Chinese mainland.
The drama does not try to justify infidelity. Rather, it showcases how self-reliance and self-worth play an integral part in delivering love to the other party. In Between accentuates the process of growth that cannot be progressed without struggle.
“We shouldn’t be tamed into passively accepting reality or slip into that gentle night. When you realize your abilities don’t match your desires, what can you do?” said He Zhi Nan to herself, a woman who deliberates on two-timing her long-distance boyfriend, begs for forgiveness, and discovers her subjectivity of life through writing.
Her truth is ugly, just like that of her best friend Sun Han Han, who becomes a mistress because of calculated deception. Knowing so, Han Han remains steadfast in her concealed relationship with a high-earning middle-aged solipsist. This love unsurprisingly strips her job away. Han Han then begins to understand self-respect—the hard way.
Even without insecurities tied to romantic love, life is never easy to navigate. Han Su is designed to represent such a notion. Her character is the definition of a career woman: firm, stern, and strategic with a clear professional goal. It, however, is what withholds Su Su from maintaining a meaningful relationship. Su Su, who is used to walking alone, is later approached by Nan Nan and learns the importance of community.
This story of women in their 20s reminds us to cherish adult friendship. When laughter, frustration, and tears are shared, shatters of hearts can be glued into a mosaic, composed enough to dream again. “I think life is the best material (for writing), but my life alone isn’t exciting enough. With both of you, it’ll be a hit” expressed Nan Nan to Han Han and Su Su over a hotpot.
All of them experience the non-linear ride of emotions. Happiness and guilt come in a package manufactured by fear and confusion. Regret becomes the bottom line. On the thread of desperation, these three women flounder to find their footing in life, while clinging to companionship. It is refreshing to witness a modern Chinese drama that isn’t afraid to acknowledge turmoil as a result of growth.
He Zhi Nan, Sun Han Han, and Han Su are ordinary women forced to be strong. They are both the protagonist and the antagonist from different perspectives. If their love is to be redefined or reloaded, self-love might be our moral of the story.
To the ones who are struggling right now, In Between presents to you the freedom of self-love that births the groundedness in life—a gradual blossom of peace, empowerment, and hope—that longs to be yours.
Stream In Between on VIU
