All of China loves Zhang Guimei as a girls’ education pioneer. So why is her biopic making some people see red?

However, a new film based on her inspirational life has sharply divided opinion between the public and the state.

When Zhang founded her boarding school in a remote area of China’s southwestern Yunnan province 15 years ago, many of the local girls would drop out early to marry or earn a living, while the boys were encouraged to get an education.

She battled to raise funds, argued with parents, drilled the girls in a harsh military style, all in the hope that they would go to college and be able to turn their lives around.

Over the years, the Huaping Girls’ High School has helped more than 1,800 students from impoverished families, with many of them going on to have professional careers, a feat that had once seemed impossible.

So when people learned that a film was to be made on Zhang’s life, they welcomed the news.

Her biopic, Beyond the Clouds, was released last week. However, it immediately sparked a storm of controversy over the kind of feminism embodied by Zhang in the film.

Many women criticised the movie for focusing too much on the role played by men in Zhang’s exemplary story. A reviewer on books and films forum Douban said she found it jarring to see that whenever Zhang faced difficulties, she thought of her late husband, whose memories gave her the strength to strive on.

This goes against what Zhang herself, a member of China’s ruling Communist Party for 25 years, has said about her life’s inspiration.

Zhang, 66, has always said it was her “faith as a party member and commitment to the party” that gave her strength to fight on.

Nationalists also took aim at the film, saying it had neglected to portray her faith in communist ideals, and also overlooked details such as Zhang’s love for the opera In Praise of Red Plum Blossom, based on the revolutionary heroine Jiang Zhuyun.

“Whoever wrote the screenplay must have not known what it’s like to have a belief,” a commenter on Weibo wrote.

Portrayals of other women in the movie were also seen as unsatisfactory. A reviewer on WeChat said the mother of a student was shown to be an alcoholic who prevented her daughter from going to school, when in reality that rarely happened. It was usually the men who were alcoholic and abusive, while the mothers were trapped in housework and childcare.

The waves of criticism quickly led to a backlash from the authorities. Movie News, a channel under state broadcaster CCTV, made multiple social media posts defending the movie while slamming critics for “stirring up gender debates”.

“They either never watched the film, or had some ulterior motives,” one post read. “Some accounts either are based overseas, or only want to take advantage of trending gender-related topics.”

Weibo, China’s most popular microblogging platform, said it had banned more than 100 accounts and deleted more than 2,000 posts for publishing content that “incited gender antagonism”, and called for “mainstream, positive energy”.

TV drama honours Chinese teacher’s decades of work lifting girls out of poverty

The controversy showed how differently Chinese authorities and film producers on one hand and the public on the other viewed the legacy of Zhang, said Xiang Dongliang, a Guangzhou-based writer and news commentator.

“In the state’s view, Zhang is a role model for the women’s movement in achieving self-reliance and an example for the rural anti-poverty movement, both of which belong to a national grand narrative under the leadership of the party,” Xiang said.

For the public, especially those who identify as feminists, Zhang was an example of female power and women helping women, he said. It is a narrative that is both personal and down-to-earth, in contrast to official narratives that are often imposed from the top.

In trying to balance the two, the film had earned the disdain of both groups, Xiang said.

It was interesting that Zhang had always been praised both by grass-roots feminists and the government, because the two usually had conflicting values, said Lu Pin, a feminist activist and commentator now living in the US.

It meant the two sides had subtly reached a common ground, to overlook official or social accountability and try to ease gender inequality by encouraging self-reliance among women, Lu said.

“Women’s self-reliance has always been part of the official rhetoric,” she said. “But when it is voiced voluntarily by a grass-roots woman like Zhang, it’s more likely to be accepted by grass-roots feminists.”

Zhang always stressed the importance of women learning to rely on themselves. She would use a loudhailer to ensure her students were up by 5am to study every day. Teachers at the school vowed to get all the girls to attend college, while Zhang said keeping it running was like “defending a fort against a Japanese invasion”.

The state repeatedly honoured Zhang for her role in advancing women’s rights.

She won numerous awards, including being named an “inspirational role model” by the central government, a “national outstanding communist” by the party, and an “exemplary woman” by the All-China Women’s Federation, a party-led body that officially leads the women’s movement in the country.

Zhang, who is past retirement age but still oversees the school she founded in 2008, was named vice-president of the federation last month.

However, the state is not tolerant of feminism beyond its set boundaries, and suppresses feminist advocacy and activities it regards as “risky” to family harmony and social stability.

In the end, perhaps the best way to make this film was to present reality with honesty, feminist blogger Luo Beibei wrote.

Zhang’s story was first uncovered in 2007 by a Xinhua reporter, who noticed at a conference that her outfits had darning patches on them and asked for an interview, Luo wrote. There were also details in her story that touched people, such as Zhang buying milk tea for her students because she wanted them to have what city girls had.

Zhang also refused to describe her students as “poor”, calling them “girls in the mountains” instead and hoping that one day they would “walk out of there with confidence”.

“When I read the news, I was touched,” Luo wrote. “Details of the real person are more moving than any screenplay.”