Werewolf exes and billionaire CEOs: why cheesy short dramas are taking over our social media feeds

What can you do in 60 seconds? In short dramas, or “micro dramas”, that’s enough time for a billionaire CEO to fall in love with his contracted wife, or for a werewolf mafia boss to break a curse.

These vertically framed, minute-long serials are reshaping the way we consume screen entertainment.

ReelShort, NetShort and DramaBox are currently the leading short drama platforms. DramaBox has been downloaded more than 100 million times on Google Play, while ReelShort was ranked second on Apple’s top free entertainment apps at the time of writing, ahead of Netflix, HBO Max, Prime Video and Disney+.

Short dramas originated in China in the early 2020s through short video platforms such as Douyin (TikTok’s sister app) and Kuaishou (also known as Kwai).

The format has since expanded globally through both Chinese platforms and social media apps such as TikTok and Instagram. It reflects a growing trend in smartphone entertainment towards shorter, scrollable content.

Our new research, which involved interviewing 12 people in the short drama industry, shows it is creating much-needed job opportunities. At the same time, this industry is expanding faster than regulation can catch up – and that spells trouble.

Cliffhangers and outrageous storytelling

Short dramas are optimised for fragmented viewing via smartphones. The format blends TikTok’s fast-paced plotting style with recognisable screen genres. Think: a cheesy lifetime flick delivered in one-minute bursts. Most series have between 50 and 100 episodes.

Their appeal lies in dramatic storylines and cliffhangers. Each episode ends with a twist, designed to keep you hooked. This might be the revelation of a mysterious identity, or a tangled misunderstanding that is bound to lead to conflict. As ReelShort puts it: “every second is a drama”.

Let’s look at the hit series Playing by the Billionaire’s Rules as an example. Over 89 episodes, the series features a contract lover, million-dollar debts, an accidental pregnancy and a secret love triangle.

While it falls short of Hollywood standards of plot, dialogue and acting, it captures viewers’ attention through a conflict-ridden plot and provocative (sometimes amateurish) performances.

Playing by the Billionaire’s Rules is one of thousands of such series available online. In most cases, the first five to ten episodes are free, after which viewers must pay (usually right when the story is at its most thrilling).

A low-cost format, ripe for expansion

Despite illogical storytelling, crude production and exaggerated, stereotypical characters, short dramas are proving to be highly lucrative. In one 2023 article, The Economist described this “latest Chinese export to conquer America” as a hybrid of TikTok and Netflix.

Their popularity can also be linked to the COVID pandemic and the Hollywood writers’ strike, both of which slowed down the global screen industry.

Our research shows short drama production teams, which are mostly led by Chinese producers, have now expanded globally to the United States, Australia, eastern Europe and other parts of Asia, in search of new collaborative opportunities.

Los Angeles is emerging as the fastest-growing production hub. According to one LA Times article, short drama apps outside of China made US$1.2 billion (about A$1.8 billion) last year. Some 60% of this revenue came from the US.

Companies the world over are cashing in on the opportunity. Spanish-language media company TelevisaUnivision has started investing in the format, as has Ukrainian startup Holywater, which is using AI to generate almost fully synthetic short dramas.

Even the Hollywood giant Lionsgate has taken notice of short dramas, and is exploring their commercial potential.

It’s also possible short dramas will open the door for new players in the streaming wars. Although Netflix isn’t currently producing short dramas, it has started experimenting with the vertical short format (in the form of series and movie clips) on its mobile app.

Short dramas are also easily replicated across countries and various market conditions, and allow for localised content strategies. For example, the short drama Breaking the Ice reboots the Chinese campus romance template into a story centred on hockey players, making it more relatable for North American audiences.

Fantasy templates, such as those featuring werewolves, vampires, and witches, have also proven universally successful – and are often used by Chinese producers as low-risk, easily localised genres to test new markets.

Concerns behind the scenes

Our research finds the short drama industry is seen as a promising avenue for creating job opportunities, and for allowing actors and creators to get significant exposure on a modest budget.

But we’ve also found the industry to be far less regulated than more established screen industries.

There are growing concerns in the industry around labour exploitation and copyright infringement, as well as uncertainty over how sustainable the model will be in the long run.

One of our interviewees, a producer based in Los Angeles, revealed several concerning practices including problems with overtime work, stealing and recycling of drama scripts, underpayment of film school graduates, and a prevalence of unfair contracts for screenwriters.

The screenwriters we interviewed told us they hadn’t received proper credit for their work, and were bound by “buyout contracts” that excluded them from receiving additional compensation – even if their scripts garnered millions of views.

Earlier this year, the Media, Entertainment & Arts Alliance and Casting Guild of Australia issued a joint statement urging local actors to verify the credentials of any “vertical series” production teams before signing contracts with them.

Still, the short drama format continues to draw significant attention from across the screen industry. More than just a passing content trend, this may be the beginning of a structural shift in what “television” means: low-cost, easily replicated and recklessly fast-paced.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.