2025年暑期檔，中國電影《南京照相館》橫空出世，自上映以來迅速引爆全國關注。該片上映僅六天便突破九億元人民幣的票房，八天突破十億，成為同期電影中當之無愧的票房斷層第一。它不僅是一部商業成功的影片，更因其對歷史真相的直視與再現，引發輿論和國際層面的巨大反響，尤其來自日本的強烈關切與外交警告，更讓這部電影的政治與歷史意義浮上檯面。

以1937年南京大屠殺為背景，講述一間名為「吉祥照相館」的普通店鋪，在日本佔領南京期間，店員阿昌受命為日軍沖洗照片，卻意外發現底片中所呈現的是慘無人道的大規模屠殺與暴行。電影中，透過底片影像的沖洗過程，逐層揭示日軍在南京對平民的屠殺、焚城、強姦等罪行。隨著真相浮出水面，主角們在恐懼與道德之間掙扎，最終選擇冒險保留這些照片，並協助難民逃亡。整部電影以個人視角切入，將宏大的歷史事件轉化為真實可感的人性故事，情感強烈、畫面震撼，被觀眾稱為近年最具情感衝擊力的抗戰電影之一。

影片一經上映，在中國國內激起廣泛共鳴。不僅票房高漲，豆瓣評分一度達到8.6分，無數觀眾在觀影後表示震撼與哀痛，有觀眾評論稱：「這不是一部電影，而是一場靈魂審判。」更有不少家庭帶著子女觀影，將其視為歷史教育的一部分。《南京照相館》不僅讓觀眾直視歷史，也成為對遺忘的抗爭與對真相的守護。

然而，就在國內觀眾深陷情緒共鳴之際，日本方面的反應則極為敏感與激烈。日本駐上海領事館隨即對該片表示關切，公開發出外交警告，稱影片可能引發「對日仇恨情緒升溫」，並提醒在華日本公民提高安全警惕。更有日媒報導，一些日本企業對影片上映持「高度警覺」，擔憂中日民間關係進一步惡化，部分公司甚至考慮暫緩在華行動或投資。

日本之所以對這部電影反應如此劇烈，根源在於南京大屠殺在日本國內始終是一個歷史敏感點。雖然國際間已有大量證據與共識證明該事件的真實性，但日本右翼勢力與歷史修正主義者長期對此進行淡化、否認甚至抹除，主張“無證據”、“人數誇大”或乾脆否認屠殺存在。每當中國社會或文藝作品重新聚焦這段歷史，都會觸動日本國內的政治神經與外交立場。而《南京照相館》以如此直接、深刻且具有視覺衝擊力的方式呈現日軍暴行，自然被視為對這種歷史否認態度的有力挑戰。

這場文化與歷史的交鋒，不僅是對南京大屠殺的再次記憶，也是中日兩國在歷史詮釋權上的碰撞。電影之所以備受中國觀眾肯定，是因為它用極具藝術表現力的方式還原歷史，也喚醒國人對民族苦難與抗爭記憶的再度關注。而日本方面的外交動作，也再次暴露出其在面對歷史罪行時的不安與矛盾。

總結來說，《南京照相館》不僅是成功的電影，更是一面鏡子。它讓歷史不再只存在於教科書或紀念碑上，而是透過光影與敘事回到我們面前。它喚起的是記憶、情感，也是民族尊嚴的守護。這正是電影最深層的力量所在。

In the summer of 2025, the Chinese film Nanjing Photo Studio made a stunning debut, quickly capturing national attention upon its release. Within just six days, it surpassed 900 million yuan at the box office, and broke the 1 billion mark by the eighth day—becoming the undisputed box office leader of the season. Beyond its commercial success, the film ignited major public discourse and international response due to its unflinching portrayal of historical truth, particularly drawing sharp concern and diplomatic warnings from Japan. These reactions further highlighted the political and historical weight carried by the film.

Set against the backdrop of the 1937 Nanjing Massacre, the story revolves around a modest photo studio named “Jixiang Photo Studio” during the Japanese occupation of Nanjing. The protagonist, a photo technician named Achang, is ordered to develop film for Japanese soldiers. To his horror, the negatives reveal images of large-scale massacres and atrocities. Through the process of developing these photos, the film gradually unveils the brutal crimes committed by the Japanese army—mass killings, arson, and sexual violence against civilians. As the truth emerges, the characters are torn between fear and moral duty, ultimately choosing to risk their lives to preserve the photographic evidence and help refugees escape. The film tells this harrowing story from an intimate, personal perspective, transforming a monumental historical tragedy into something tangible and emotionally gripping. Many viewers have described it as one of the most powerful and emotionally resonant anti-war films in recent years.

Upon release, Nanjing Photo Studio struck a deep chord with Chinese audiences. The film’s ratings soared, reaching an impressive 8.6 on Douban. Viewers reported feelings of shock and sorrow, with some describing the experience as “not just a movie, but a reckoning of the soul.” Numerous families even brought their children to watch the film, treating it as a form of historical education. More than just a cinematic work, the film served as a confrontation with collective memory—and a defense against historical amnesia.

However, as the emotional impact of the film spread domestically, Japan’s reaction was swift and severe. The Japanese Consulate General in Shanghai issued a formal warning, expressing concern that the film could inflame anti-Japanese sentiment, and advised Japanese citizens in China to heighten their vigilance. Japanese media further reported that some Japanese companies were taking the film’s release “very seriously,” fearing that deteriorating public sentiment might impact business operations, and some firms were reportedly considering delaying investments or projects in China.

Japan’s strong reaction is rooted in the long-standing sensitivity surrounding the Nanjing Massacre within its own borders. Despite overwhelming international evidence and scholarly consensus affirming the massacre’s historical reality, right-wing factions and historical revisionists in Japan have repeatedly attempted to downplay, deny, or erase the event—claiming there is “no solid proof,” that “the numbers were exaggerated,” or outright denying that the massacre occurred. Any renewed focus on this history in Chinese media or art often triggers political and diplomatic tensions in Japan. Given Nanjing Photo Studio’s graphic and uncompromising depiction of wartime atrocities, the film is naturally viewed as a direct challenge to efforts at historical denial.

This confrontation between culture and history is more than just a remembrance of past atrocities—it reflects an ongoing struggle between China and Japan over the authority to define historical narratives. Chinese audiences have embraced the film not only because of its cinematic quality but also because it revives a sense of national memory, pain, and resistance through compelling artistic expression. Meanwhile, Japan’s diplomatic pushback underscores its lingering discomfort and contradictions when confronted with its wartime legacy.

In conclusion, Nanjing Photo Studio is more than a successful film—it is a mirror. It brings history out of textbooks and monuments and places it vividly before our eyes through light and storytelling. It awakens memory and emotion, and above all, it stands as a testament to the preservation of national dignity. That, ultimately, is the film’s most profound power.