DUANJU  NEWS

In the vertical drama ecosystem, Uganda sees the circulation of ultra-short series from Asia and the United States, but the founders of Binyuma TV, Edwin Ryonga and Ivan Kasagama, start from a local observation: African audiences are already watching, while a structured pan-African offering remains to be built. Their project positions itself as a platform response, designed with the continent's viewing habits in mind, with the ambition of expanding beyond the Ugandan market. From observation to platform: why Binyuma TV The starting point is very concrete. Observing his surroundings, one of the co-founders describes a format already ubiquitous in Kampala: "It seems like everyone I know, at least in Uganda, watches them, but nobody creates them." The idea for Binyuma TV was born from this asymmetry between consumption and production, and from a simple cultural conviction: "Africans like to watch their own content. That's really where the idea for Binyuma started to take shape." In their view, the timing is favorable for a structural reason: Africa is a phone-first market. If vertical drama has taken hold elsewhere, it's also because it aligns with the fast-paced, fragmented, and repeatable nature of mobile consumption. In the interview, they connect this shift to what they've observed in other markets: in China, and then in the United States, the format has reportedly surpassed traditional consumption patterns, prompting them to take the phenomenon seriously and adapt it to local offerings. The challenge isn't simply to replicate a model. They emphasize the need to "localize" vertical drama, both narratively and culturally. Their interpretation of the format's success rests on dramatic intensity, expressiveness, and immediately accessible narrative devices. They cite archetypes of romance and social contrast, a fast pace, and above all, a central promise: what happens next, right now? This global “grammar,” they argue, only has value if it is reframed by African codes. In their formulation, it's about respecting what works in the vertical space while adding “the African touch.” The platform is designed with this logic in mind: to give a stable form to a demand already visible on social networks, but by transforming it into culturally grounded content and a catalog. Binyuma TV presents itself from the outset as a project with broader ambitions than its point of origin. They explain that they began by exchanging ideas with tech professionals, then formalizing an approach that could “introduce this to not only the people in Uganda and in Africa.” In other words: a Ugandan base, but a continental horizon. Regarding the signs of growth, they remain cautious but optimistic. They mention encouraging feedback from discussions with vertical content stakeholders, and a positive perception when the argument for African localization is understood. They also point to a simple on-the-ground indicator: the already strong performance of non-fiction vertical content on TikTok and Reels, seen as proof of appetite, even before the rise of scripted vertical dramas. Interview conducted by Blessing Azugama #BlessingAzugama

For a long time, the notion of "China Speed" was established as an economic and industrial marker of China's acceleration. It referred to China's ability to build, produce, and deliver more quickly: a speed emblematic of its economic boom and manufacturing power. In recent years, this concept has extended far beyond the realm of factories and infrastructure. It now permeates the cultural sphere, finding its most accomplished illustration in duanju, the ultra-short mini-series originating in China. Through duanju, China Speed no longer simply shapes the economy: it redefines cultural forms, narratives, and the relationship to time. China Speed: From an industrial slogan to a worldview Originally, China Speed was a concept coined to describe a tangible reality: construction projects completed in a few weeks, cities emerging in a few years, production lines capable of moving from idea to market at very high speed. Behind this performance lies a philosophy of time. In China today, economic time is not a space for contemplation: it is a strategic resource. Optimizing it means producing value, gaining power, and remaining competitive in a globalized world. This approach has gradually spread to the digital sector (e-commerce, fintech, social platforms), and then to cultural industries, long considered secondary to economic priorities. Duanju emerged precisely at this tipping point. The duanju: a narrative at the speed of the Chinese era Duanju is based on simple principles related to lifestyles and customs, which influence the relationship to time: episodes of 1 to 3 minutes, broadcast on smartphones, often in vertical format, immediately readable plots and constant twists in each episode. Where traditional series slowly establish their characters and narrative arcs, duanju condenses. It doesn't tell less of a story; it tells it faster. Each scene is conceived as a unit of maximum efficiency: to capture attention, evoke emotion, and entice viewers to watch the next episode. This format perfectly suits an urban Chinese society characterized by density, constant mobility, fragmented free time, and daily hyper-connectivity. Duanju thus becomes the cultural counterpart to China Speed: optimized storytelling for a compressed timeframe. Optimizing emotion: a new cultural value As in factories, speed here becomes a central value of creation. China Speed is no longer just a production rate: it becomes a cultural rhythm, revealing a contemporary relationship to time, attention, and narrative, where intensity takes precedence over duration. In the world of duanju, speed is not merely a formal choice but a cultural value, an organizing principle that prioritizes immediate impact. Speed thus becomes a criterion of quality. What is slow is perceived as weak, inefficient, or even obsolete. This shift marks a profound transformation of cultural industries in the age of platforms and mobile technology: time is no longer expandable; it is scarce, fragmented, and subject to constant competition. The cultural speed of China no longer seeks to hold the viewer's attention over time; it aims to capture them instantly. This fast-paced approach profoundly transforms narrative time. The story unfolds as a succession of intensified presents, where waiting is minimized. The duanju becomes less a linear narrative than a narrative flow, aligned with contemporary digital practices. Contrary to a common criticism, duanju does not necessarily signify the impoverishment of culture. Rather, it reflects a shift in the hierarchy of cultural values. In the classical Western model, cultural value is often associated with duration, slowness, and psychological complexity. Duanju offers something different: immediate emotion, rapid identification, and deliberate dramatic effectiveness. This approach does not negate depth; it reconfigures it. The viewer is no longer invited to immerse themselves for extended periods, but rather to consume successive micro-shocks of emotion. The value lies in the ability to evoke feeling quickly, rather than in the time spent feeling. A cultural industry aligned with the logic of China Speed The success of duanju lies not only in its format but also in its production methods. Filming is quick, crews are small, and creative cycles are short. Platforms test, adjust, abandon, or relaunch narrative concepts at a speed comparable to that of tech startups. Major players in the Chinese digital ecosystem have understood that duanju allows for maximum responsiveness to trends, rapid monetization, and large-scale storytelling. Here we find the fundamentals of China Speed: test fast, produce fast, correct fast. Creative content then becomes a field of constant experimentation, subject to metrics of attention and performance. Towards an exportable Chinese cultural model? The question of exporting duanju is now a pressing one. Like European art-house cinema or American television series in their time, duanju could become a form of Chinese cultural soft power. Its export implies a shift in the Western perspective: accepting that cultural value no longer necessarily lies in length, slowness, or classical narrative sophistication. Duanju offers an alternative model, based on intensity, accessibility, and adaptation to global digital practices. In this sense, duanju is not an anomaly or a low-cost form of culture: it may well be the vanguard of an accelerated global culture. China Speed: A New Relationship to Time and Narrative Duanju is more than just a new audiovisual format; it acts as a cultural revealer. It shows how China applies its logic of time optimization, productivity, and efficiency not only to the economy, but also to storytelling, emotion, and cultural consumption. Duanju extends the concept of China Speed to the contemporary Chinese cultural model. It demonstrates that Chinese acceleration is not merely a matter of productivity, but a worldview where time becomes a space to be structured, controlled, and monetized, including in artistic creation. By transforming the way stories are told, China is not simply following digital shifts; it is proposing a cultural model consistent with its social trajectory. Duanju is therefore not just a trendy format; it is the cultural symptom of a China that is moving fast and now intends to tell stories quickly. Article written by Maëlle Billant #MaelleBillant

American producer Chris Wicke, who leads Embr Entertainment, is clear about the next milestone: developing their own platform and releasing an app. He says they already have what he calls a minimal viable product, but it still needs work before a public launch and before they can build a content slate designed specifically to feed the app. In the meantime, Embr continues producing for existing platforms, including a project completed for ReelShort and another script now moving into budgeting. In this short statement, Wicke adds a point that is rarely framed so directly: despite platforms relying more and more on data, it remains hard to predict what will become a hit in duanju. His reasoning is straightforward. Performance is too often attributed to a single variable, when success is usually the result of a complex mix that is difficult to isolate, casting, writing, music, and directing. For him, data can create a sense of control, but it does not replace experimentation. He also describes genre evolution as cyclical. Certain genres rise, peak, and fade, making continuous testing essential for both studios and platforms. He notes, for example, that action can be harder to translate on a small screen, while horror can land effectively if the direction focuses on actors’ reactions in tight close-ups. In his view, experimentation remains the core engine of vertical fiction, even as the industry professionalizes and more players try to become platforms rather than simply content suppliers. Interview conducted by Wenwen Han. Check out her YouTube  channel. #WenwenHan

Ifeoma 'Oma Areh is working from a straightforward idea: if Africa is already consuming short-form mobile stories at scale, it now needs a method and an organization to produce, structure, and monetize that energy. Alongside Elijah Affi, she co-founded Digital Creator Africa Academy, a pan-African platform designed to train the next generation of digital storytellers specializing in microdrama and to fill a critical gap in Africa’s creator economy. Her starting point is personal, almost trivial, yet revealing. She says it plainly: “I’m addicted to these stories.” In other words, this is not an isolated taste, but an audience behavior that can become market data. For her, the goal is not to “prove” that duanju can work in Africa, but to turn an existing habit into a production pipeline with cadence, standards, and a viable business model. Adapt without copying Oma Areh rejects a mechanical import of Chinese or Western formulas. Microdrama mechanics work, but execution must align with African storytelling codes: rhythms, references, and a serialized approach that resonates with local audiences. Her logic is to adapt the method, not replicate the form. Digital Creator Africa Academy fits into this approach: industry-ready training, storytelling frameworks that can be replicated at scale, and market-driven business models. Their shared ambition is to position Africa not only as a source of creative talent, but as a global engine for original digital IP, equipped to compete, scale, and lead in the future of short-form and emerging screen storytelling. The hard part remains monetization. Oma Areh describes a persistent imbalance: African audiences are real, sometimes massive, but platform confidence and revenue-generation capability remain points of friction. She sums it up as: “I get the audience, but when it comes to making money…” In other words, the economic value of African audiences is still underestimated, and imported models do not automatically fit local realities. In that context, training becomes a business lever as much as a creative one. It is not only about learning to tell stories in 9:16, but about producing with scalable frameworks, thinking market-first, and building a pipeline that makes microdrama viable, sustainable, and monetizable. Registration: https://www.digitalcreatorafrica.academy/ Interview conducted by Blessing Azugama #BlessingAzugama

Duanju News explicitly linked binge-watching, speed-watching, and the rise of the Duanju format. Here, we examine how this analytical framework was adopted by French and international media outlets, its chronology, and why it is circulating today. Context: On July 25, 2025, Duanju News proposed a simple idea to test, but one difficult to articulate clearly without taking a step back: while binge-watching normalized the process of watching content consecutively, speed-watching revealed its ultimate logic: optimizing viewing time. In this context, duanju is not just another genre, but a formal and industrial response to the compression of available time. The article in question: Faced with the frenzy of viewing, Duanju charts its own course From this point, an interesting question arises for professionals: when a framework for analysis is established before the subject explodes in public debate, how do we measure its dissemination? A robust way is to look at the chronology of re-publications, only after the initial publication date. Timeline of the cascading recovery, after July 25, 2025 On October 9, 2025, The Economic Times formulated almost the same mechanism in one sentence, “binge-watching” and “scrolling habits” as the matrix of an entertainment “born in China as duanju”, in other words a fiction that aligns with accelerated and continuous uses. On October 13, 2025, Le Figaro explained the idea as an addictive equation: micro-dramas “fueled by the combination” of two practices, “binge-watching” and “scrolling.” This is the most direct interpretation, as it clearly lays out the dual causality that leads to a format calibrated for continuous viewing. On October 13, 2025, Señal News (an international trade publication) described a consumption pattern designed for “scroll-and-binge rhythms” and invoked the concept of “binge curves,” linking the audience performance of micro-dramas to mobile-based mechanisms rather than traditional television. The same fundamental idea is present: the narrative form is reconfigured to suit a hybrid, frictionless, scroll-plus-binge usage. On December 19, 2025, The Guardian illustrates the practical consequence of this logic, with two-minute episodes following one another to the point of being swallowed in a few minutes, a binge compressed by design, making the acceleration of the player almost useless. On December 20, 2025, RTL summarized the mechanism in French as “a mix between infinite scrolling and binge watching”. Why does this broadcast matter, and what does it say? An intelligence provider doesn't "predict" based on intuition. They formalize a readable causal chain early on, then document its validation in reality through verifiable, dated, and comparable recurrences. Here, the chain is stable and subsequently appears in multiple media. The second type of broadcast concerns the AI robots used by newsrooms. Since 2024, journalistic practice has increasingly integrated AI assistants to explore topics, summarize, map sources, compare perspectives, and accelerate research. This doesn't replace investigative journalism, but it changes the way analyses circulate; a clear analytical framework becomes immediately reusable by tools that index, synthesize, and redistribute information. In this context, Duanju News observes, via its internal technical logs, a particularly sustained activity of indexing robots and automated agents on topics related to duanju, a sign that the site is not only read by humans, but also “ingested” by the new AI-assisted search chains which then feed professionals, analysts and newsrooms. What emerges here is a clear professional fact: a structuring interpretation was formulated very early on, then adopted, with the same structure, by media outlets published later. It now circulates within an ecosystem where journalists and AI tools accelerate the transmission of analytical frameworks. This is precisely the role of an intelligence provider: to produce effective analytical frameworks and to document their dissemination, with supporting evidence and a chronology. Article written by Guillaume Sanjorge #GuillaumeSanjorge

TikTok is adding a new entry point to Duanju: Minis, an integrated section that groups together mini-programs, including 9:16 "mini dramas" for binge-watching. The goal is to allow audiences to discover, watch, and pay without the usual hurdles of downloading a dedicated app, creating a new account, or making off-platform payments. An important point for Western audiences: at this stage, this isn't a new app to install, but rather an internal TikTok feature. According to Business Insider, TikTok added this section discreetly, with a gradual rollout. In practice, this means that access may not be visible to all accounts simultaneously, depending on the market and TikTok's activation process. When Minis is available, the user opens TikTok as usual and accesses a Minis section that aggregates both mini-games and more than a dozen mini-drama apps, without leaving the app. In Minis, TikTok highlights integrated mini-programs that host experiences and content directly within the app, with a subset dedicated to micro-dramas. Specifically, the user watches a series of very short, serialized episodes, built on the same mechanics as micro-drama apps: romance, betrayal, fantasy, and cliffhangers at short intervals. This integration addresses a well-known conversion problem: a significant portion of the audience discovers micro-dramas on social media, but monetization primarily occurs in separate apps, creating friction precisely when interest is highest. TikTok explicitly aims to reduce this friction by keeping viewers within their trusted environment and offering a more seamless viewing and payment experience. A model that wants to keep payment inside The clearest economic signal is the price incentive: in Minis, some offers display around a 10% discount when the user pays through TikTok, rather than switching to the external app. According to producers interviewed, TikTok is also testing licensing schemes worth up to $10,000 per series, coupled with advertising revenue sharing for episodes released for free on the platform. Underlying this is the platform's balancing act between two objectives: capturing the value of the payment and capturing the time spent watching. The first extends the "everything in TikTok" approach already established by TikTok Shop. The second increases advertising inventory and retention. For studios and producers of micro-dramas, the offer is ambivalent: potentially massive exposure and a reduced acquisition cost, but a risk of cannibalizing direct monetization if the compensation (license + ad sharing) doesn't offset production budgets that often range from $100,000 to $300,000 for a full-length vertical film. The move also reflects a strategy of importing a model: ByteDance, TikTok's parent company, has already proven successful in China with micro-dramas consumed natively within the Douyin ecosystem. TikTok is now attempting to offer a similar model in Western markets with Minis, keeping the user within the app during the crucial viewing and payment stages. The goal is to capture a share of the micro-drama market outside China, estimated at around $3 billion annually, in a context where platforms are seeking to control discovery, viewing, and transactions. Source : Business Insider , December 26, 2025

Wenwen Han met with Kristy Wang, a Los Angeles-based producer and founder of Tiklatam, to analyze how the short drama has established itself as one of the key post-pandemic formats and why it is now structuring a new mobile entertainment economy. For Kristy Wang, the starting point is a profound shift in usage. After the pandemic, leisure time became fragmented, and the phone became the primary screen. Short dramas fit directly into this reality: very short episodes, designed to be watched anywhere, without a long commitment. "Everyone wants to watch short content on their phone," she summarizes. This constraint radically alters the writing and production process. Where traditional series can develop their narrative over several episodes, short dramas demand immediate impact. Kristy Wang emphasizes the importance of the opening minutes: "If you can't capture the audience's attention in the first ten episodes, the series is over." The development of the format in Spanish is also a natural progression. According to Kristy Wang, the short drama draws on a culture already very familiar with melodramatic narratives, while catering to younger and more mobile audiences than those of traditional television. In this context, TikTok plays a central role. For Kristy Wang, the platform is now the main driver of discovery and organic traffic. It allows for content testing and quickly gauging audience interest. "It's currently the most effective way to get organic traffic," she explains. Finally, Kristy Wang doesn't see short dramas as a competitor destined to replace film or television. She anticipates a phase of convergence instead. Traditional actors, she believes, will seek to collaborate with this format. "They're bound to find a way to collaborate," she asserts. Interview conducted by Wenwen Han. Check out her YouTube channel. #WenwenHan

Shorties Studios is a new international studio born from the partnership of three professionals from premium fiction and television. Their common ground is having held management positions in major audiovisual companies before deciding to work together on a project focused exclusively on short, vertically formatted series. The project brings together Kelly Luegenbiehl, former head of Netflix original series for Europe, the Middle East, and Africa; Onur Güvenatam, founder of the Turkish studio OGM Pictures, renowned for the international export of its fiction; and Jon Koa, former head of CBS in the United States. All three have worked in environments where the logic of formats, audiences, and international distribution is central. Their collaboration is based on a shared analysis of market trends. They believe that short-form vertical fiction can no longer be considered a simple adaptation of the long-form format, but rather an autonomous narrative field requiring specific development and production methods. Their goal is to combine expertise in global streaming, international fiction, and American television within a single studio. Based in Los Angeles, London, and Istanbul, Shorties Studios positions itself as a player capable of engaging with streaming platforms, social networks, and brands, while maintaining a structured and international production approach. The studio's launch illustrates how professionals from traditional audiovisual media are now investing in microdrama as a strategic sector in its own right. Sources • Deadline , November 25, 2025 • C21Media , November 26, 2025 • Señal News , November 27, 2025 • EpisodeMag , November 26, 2025

Journalist Blessing Azugama met with Akolade Bamidele, a Nigerian screenwriter who writes fiction in vertical format, to discuss how duanju concretely changes writing, how to capture attention, and the perspectives it opens up on the African continent. In her view, duanju isn't simply a format constrained by length or the phone screen. It's primarily an opportunity for writers willing to abide by its rules. "If you know how to write for the vertical format, you're ready to write any screenplay," she explains. Vertical writing demands immediate rigor: each scene must have an impact, each line of dialogue must contribute to the narrative's progression, from the opening to the final cliffhanger. Writing for mobile, she believes, begins with a central question: what is the character feeling in this scene, and why should the audience care? This emotional reflection precedes any technical construction. Once this foundation is laid, the episode is precisely structured, progressing through the opening, the build-up of tension, and then the emotional turning point that compels the viewer to want to see what happens next. Anything that doesn't contribute to the story is eliminated. This demanding approach was instilled in her through a pivotal experience. On a mafia-style script she envisioned as fast-paced, the feedback was unequivocal: the story was too slow and didn't move forward. She had to rewrite it from scratch. "I might have felt like the story was moving quickly, but if the viewer isn't motivated to watch the next episode, then it doesn't work," she explains. Since then, she systematically rereads her scenes to ensure they advance the plot or reveal essential character traits. If not, they are cut. This narrative discipline does not preclude cultural grounding; quite the contrary. Akolade Bamidele emphasizes the importance of writing stories connected to African realities, everyday emotions, and local contexts. For her, creativity lies in telling stories that speak directly to audiences, not by trying to reproduce external models, but by adapting the language of duanju to cultures and lived experiences. She is optimistic about the future of Duanju in Africa. On a continent where the phone has become the primary screen, the mobile format seems a natural fit. "People wake up in the morning and the first thing they do is look at their phone," she observes. But for this potential to materialize, she identifies three essential conditions: training writers capable of writing for the vertical format, attracting investors and platforms willing to distribute this content, and fostering creativity rooted in local cultures. For Akolade Bamidele, duanju is not a passing fad. It is a demanding learning ground and a credible way to tell African stories. Interview conducted by Blessing Azugama. #BlessingAzugama

British journalist Jen Cooper met with Noah Fearnley, one of the most recognizable faces in Western Duanju. Behind a presence now familiar to millions of viewers, the American actor offers a candid account of his career, his relationship to work, and how the vertical format has profoundly changed his life. Noah Fearnley wasn't destined for acting. He grew up in Connecticut, moved between several American cities, and envisioned himself primarily in American football, with the stated goal of making it to the NFL. A knee injury abruptly ended that dream. "American football was my whole life. Then it was taken away from me." This rupture marked a turning point. Modeling came almost by default, then acting, not as a quest for visibility, but as an unexpected space for expression. The relentless pace of vertical dramas then took hold with extreme intensity. Noah Fearnley filmed back-to-back series for very long periods, sometimes more than eighty consecutive days, accumulating over fifty shows. This rhythm became both an opportunity and a danger. "I started to lose myself. I no longer knew who I was." The constant work acted as a driving force, but also as a way to avoid feeling empty, to the point of blurring the line between the character and the man. The audience then plays a central role. The actor emphasizes the direct connection with the spectators, which now influences his artistic choices. More than fame or the number of projects, it is the emotional reception that counts. Some roles become difficult to bear when they come too close to his own personality, because they end up encroaching on his personal life. This individual trajectory reflects the broader evolution of vertical drama. Noah Fearnley has witnessed the format's transformation from a niche space, driven by a few actors and small crews, to a structured, international industry. "It's clearly a format that's here to stay." This rapid growth, he believes, also necessitates a rethinking of the actors' roles and their long-term stability. Throughout the interview, one idea keeps recurring: behind the accumulation of roles, there remains a man in the process of rebuilding himself. Noah Fearnley speaks frankly about mental health, loneliness, and the difficulty of existing outside the characters he portrays. "I'm still working on myself." A simple sentence that sheds light on the behind-the-scenes reality of a format often perceived as lighthearted, but which is profoundly demanding for those who bring it to life. Interview conducted by Jen Cooper, check out her YouTube channel. #JenCooper