Open any historical drama starring Meng Ziyi (孟子义) from the past few years, and you might experience unsettling a sense of familiarity. Whether she portrays a warrior in Blossom (九重紫), or a princess in the newly announced Tigers Sniff the Rose (尚公主) , her face presents a strikingly identical canvas. The same sharply winged eyeliner, the same meticulously separated lashes, the same pronounced under-eye brightness, the same matte blush placement, and, invariably, the same bold crimson lips. This signature "Meng Ziyi makeup" appears permanently affixed, transcending dynasties and disregarding character backgrounds, leaving audiences bewildered and increasingly critical. It prompts a blunt question: has the entire Hengdian (横店) film studio adopted a single downloadable makeup template?
The Carbon-Copy Controversy
Public reaction to Meng Ziyi's consistent look ranges from weary sighs to sharp critiques. Many viewers find the unchanging, heavily contoured makeup aging and uninspired, clashing violently with the historical settings. "Does she own only one shade of lipstick?" some ask pointedly online. Others lament that her appearance feels less like authentic period styling and more like a series of personal glamour shots, utterly devoid of the visual cues needed to distinguish different eras or social standings within the narratives. Comparisons inevitably arise to actress Ju Jingyi (鞠婧祎), whose own signature "dewy-eyed, bitten-lip" aesthetic persists across diverse roles, from the light-hearted The Legend of Yun Xi (芸汐传) to the darker In Blossom (花间令). This perceived lack of visual transformation, coupled with often similar character archetypes and acting approaches, fuels significant viewer fatigue for both actresses.
Fans, naturally, rush to her defense. One argument posits that Meng Ziyi possesses such strong, distinctive features that any makeup variation is simply overpowered by her inherent bone structure; the audience, they claim, focuses on the face itself, not the subtle cosmetic differences. Another line of reasoning suggests her makeup deliberately echoes an older, pre-2010s historical drama aesthetic, a stylistic choice deliberately contrasting with today's mainstream "Xianxia" trends. This divergence, fans argue, causes discomfort for viewers conditioned by contemporary beauty standards, not because the makeup itself is flawed.
However, these defenses crumble under scrutiny for anyone familiar with Meng Ziyi's earlier work. Roles like the complex Lei Chun (雷纯) in Heros (说英雄谁是英雄) showcased impressive range. Initially presented with soft, curved brows, barely-there eye makeup, and gentle pink lips, Lei Chun exuded youthful innocence and noble grace. After personal tragedy, her transformation was mirrored dramatically in her look: sharp, angled brows, heavy, elongated winged liner, and stark red lips radiating icy power and distance. Similarly, as the gentle Li Si (李思) in The Legend of Xiao Chuo (燕云台), her makeup was subdued – thicker, softer brows, minimal eye enhancement, and muted lip colors complementing simple attire. This history makes her current rigid, uniform look across Blossom, and Tigers Sniff the Rose seem like a significant step backward in creative commitment.
Beyond the Brush Strokes
Undeniably, Meng Ziyi's current "signature" makeup is technically flattering. Her pronounced features benefit from the definition provided by the strong eyeliner and lashes; the bold red lip complements her full lip shape, brightens her complexion, and adds necessary visual weight against elaborate historical costumes and headdresses. The problem isn't that the makeup is unattractive, but that "flattering" is not synonymous with "versatile." Applying the identical look to characters as diverse as a cunning strategist, a grieving princess, or a rebellious frontier noblewoman erases crucial narrative and personality distinctions. Audiences see "Meng Ziyi in costume," not the unique individual she is supposed to embody. Over time, this erodes character identity and breeds monotony. Viewers crave actors who disappear into roles, not "template beauties" who merely change outfits.
Meng Ziyi's predicament is not solely her own making; it reflects a broader industry malaise. Historical dramas, regardless of genre—court intrigue, romantic fantasy, or martial arts epic—increasingly feature heroines with indistinguishable "pretty face" makeup: flawlessly shaped brows, prominent eye makeup, and high-saturation lips. This homogenization stems from a pervasive industry obsession with "safe" aesthetics. A proven, instantly recognizable look that guarantees the actor maintains high visibility and aligns with immediate audience expectations of beauty is often prioritized over historically accurate or character-specific designs that might be less conventionally glamorous or require more time.
The Actress's Crossroads
Regardless of industry pressures or team preferences for low-risk choices, the mounting criticism demands a response from Meng Ziyi herself. The discourse is escalating, with some now questioning her professionalism and dedication based on the unchanging makeup, particularly by revisiting past controversies. Incidents from her participation in reality shows like Everybody Stand By (演员请就位), where she reportedly clashed with mentors over makeup choices deemed "unattractive" for a role (like a dirty face for a thief character), are being cited as evidence of a long-standing personal preference for looking "perfect" over serving the character. Her detailed explanations which involve denying unauthorized changes and citing logistical issues and approvals on Everybody Stand By; however, these explanations often get lost in the current noise. For many, the narrative of an actress prioritizing her personal aesthetic over role authenticity feels consistent and damaging.
This perception of unprofessionalism poses a serious threat to her career longevity. An actor's true value lies in transformative ability—the drama-throwing face skill to become someone new each time, letting the character, not the celebrity, shine. Meng Ziyi's early career proves she possesses the versatility and the looks to embody diverse personas convincingly. The challenge now is to break free from the comfortable cage of her "safely beautiful" signature look. Will she continue as the immaculately made-up doll, endlessly replicated across historical sets? Or will she shed the "semi-permanent" label, reclaim the adventurous spirit of her earlier roles, and demonstrate true commitment through both performance and appearance? The power to redefine her path rests firmly in her hands.
