All 7 Best Liu Beichen Movies Ranked (Best to Worst)

When Tian Xiaopeng unleashed this kinetic revision of Sun Wukong's folklore, it ignited a cultural renaissance for domestic Chinese animation. The film's brilliance lies in subverting legendary infallibility: this Monkey King is embittered, bruised, and shackled by self-doubt, rediscovering heroism only through the boundless trust of an orphaned child monk. Visually fluid action sequences match an unusually tender emotional core. Behind the microphone, Liu Beichen delivers a benchmark vocal turn as the monstrous demon lord hunt antagonist, infusing the mythos with rumbling malevolence and textured weight. His vocal presence anchors the stakes, certifying this blockbuster as his foundational high-water mark.

Pre-dating the climactic wars of the Douluo realm, this high-octane prequel strips the franchise down to its sharpest martial philosophy: the lethal balance between duty, spirit bones, and martial pride. The animation balances hyper-stylized wuxia choreography with sweeping architectural grandeur, capturing the Seven-Treasure Glazed Sect under siege with relentless pacing. What elevates the conflict is the vocal gravitas powering its elder martial masters. Liu Beichen delivers thunderous authority, carving out regal stoicism laced with quiet sorrow as doom looms over the sect. His resonant cadence lends weight to every incantation, providing the emotional ballast that keeps a visual showcase grounded in genuine dramatic tension.

Adapted from Zheng Jianhe's revisionist manhua, this brooding prequel trades orthodox piety for tragic romantic fatalism. Centering on the forbidden bond between Sun Wukong and heavenly princess Su Yi, the feature leans into shadowy celestial politics and morally gray divinity rather than standard creature brawls. Fluid, neon-drenched cel-shaded skirmishes contrast smartly with quieter character beats. Liu Beichen's vocal performance adds crucial resonance, navigating the shifting allegiance between heavenly order and rebellious wildness. He bypasses theatrical caricature to inject gritty weariness and sharp bite into his character, proving how effectively his voice can carry the dramatic friction of a fractured myth.

Blending industrial steampunk aesthetics with late-Qing historical reality, this ambitious period feature ventures where few animated titles dare: the dawn of modern Chinese naval manufacturing. Following an orphaned mechanic swept into the gears of the Kiangnan Shipyard, the film captures the soot, brass, and national anxieties of the late 19th century with striking watercolor palettes. Liu Beichen brings seasoned precision to the ensemble, vocalizing authority figures whose stern mentorship masks deep-seated patriotic desperation. His delivery avoids bluster, opting instead for clipped, discipline-heavy phrasing that mirrors the cold iron of the dockyards. It remains an eccentric, deeply textured entry in his vocal repertoire.

Aiming squarely at energetic younger audiences, this kung fu reimagining of the classic European fable swaps straw and sticks for martial arts dojos and animalistic brawling. While the plotting adheres rigidly to kid-friendly slapstick and redemption tropes, the digital character models bounce with hyperactive energy and colorful visual gags. Liu Beichen provides the veteran vocal stability required to sell such frantic nonsense, channeling dry humor and elder-statesman reprimand amid chaos. He treats silly dialogue with surprising professionalism, keeping the narrative's cartoonish buffoonery from careening into unwatchable screeching. It stands as lightweight mid-tier comfort food, functional and brightly animated, yet fundamentally peripheral to his prestige canon.

Colliding traditional monkey folklore with generic space-opera tropes and intergalactic tyrants, this low-budget hybrid struggles to find a coherent creative identity. Dearth Voyd's cosmic conquest feels stitched together from better sci-fi cartoons, leaving character arcs paper-thin and visual textures awkwardly unpolished. Still, Liu Beichen treats the lackluster material with far more dignity than the script warrants. His vocal discipline injects pockets of genuine villainous charisma and sharp tonal modulation into scenes that otherwise drown in muddy digital rendering. Even so, not even his polished cadence can salvage a muddled concept that collapses under the weight of clashing genres.

An unfortunate attempt to cash in on nostalgic affection for the beloved 1970s anime, this mainland theatrical spinoff misfires across almost every aesthetic dimension. Stiff flash-style animation, uninspired temple backgrounds, and juvenile dialogue rob the titular zen prodigy of the quiet wit and philosophical sparkle that made the original property enduring. Liu Beichen's vocal talents are utterly wasted here on generic, underwritten line readings that offer zero dramatic texture or room for character invention. Arriving at the nadir of modern studio output, the film remains an awkward relic from an era before Chinese animation discovered its voice and cinematic sophistication.