The Great Wall

[GeneChing]

A positive take

Polem-Flick: In defence of The Great Wall
Zi Ran Shen asks whether Zhang Yi Mou’s latest epic is a victim of whitewashing or an attempt to educate Western audiences

“His character’s interactions with the Chinese serves as an allegory for the relationships between the East and the West”
LEGENDARY EAST
by Zi Ran Shen
Friday March 3 2017, 12:00am

The Great Wall, once known as a fortress that protected China from outside invaders, is now also a blockbuster Hollywood film. Despite criticism from inside and outside the wall, Zhang Yi Mou delivers entertainment worthy of the big screen. The plot is tried and true, the action exhilarating, and the cinematography grand. He has created a piece of cinema that sits comfortably in the Western market.

Criticisms about the flat plot and the casting of Matt Damon as the man who saves China, while valid, miss the point of the movie. To this humble reviewer, The Great Wall is not about breaking the mould, but rather fitting right in. In an age of increasing nationalism, Zhang Yi Mou reaches out to the West with a crash course in Chinese culture and the virtues of cooperation. Every aspect of the movie is drenched in rich history and culture – even the aliens. The Tao Tie () are a beast permeating ancient mythology. They are gluttonous magical creatures rumoured to have an insatiable appetite, whose form appears regularly on ancient food-carrying pottery. Today, many Chinese foodies jokingly claim to be descendants from the Tao Tie as if they’ve inherited its voracity. Similarly, Zhang Yi Mou injects this movie with factual – though romanticised – accounts of China’s militaristic and geographic majesty. The military command structure was depicted accurately, as was the weaponry, the use of floating lanterns (shamelessly appropriated by Tangled, I might add), the palace of the emperor, all the way down to the prisoner’s method of restraint.

[QUOTE]“Instead of the ‘white saviour’ critics claim William to be, he is simply a lens through which the audience could see the Western perception of China”

In speaking about the movie, Zhang Yi Mou described it as simply a vehicle to deliver an understanding of Chinese cultures and values. He emphasised responsibility and trust between directors and actors, key concepts which are echoed within the film. Though responsibility and trust are not values limited to the geographical constraints of China, their unique flavour within Chinese culture is sometimes difficult to decipher. Responsibility – although significant in Western cultures – is a defining Chinese value. Zhang Yi Mou has spoken about the pressure of responsibility he feels to both his audience and the actors after gaining fame. Similarly, Commander Lin of the Nameless Order feels the all-consuming responsibility to her country and her soldiers, who are willing to sacrifice themselves because they trust the commander. This kind of intense relationship puzzles William (Matt Damon) at first, but through increased exposure he begins to understand its necessity. This exposure is exactly what Zhang Yi Mou has created with The Great Wall.

The use of Matt Damon as the male lead is not about a white man saving China. His character’s interactions with the Chinese serve as an allegory for the relationships between the East and the West. In the beginning, neither William nor Commander Lin trust or respect each other. William was only there for black powder, while Commander Lin only wanted to know how William had killed the Tao Tie. Similar to how the Brits waltzed into China expecting a trade deal while disregarding the Emperor, and the brutal way in which the Emperor retaliated by killing the diplomat – neither side understood nor respected each other. In the film, William was able to earn the Nameless Order’s welcome through his aid. The Order, in turn, treated William as a valuable ally, thus finally forming a constructive relationship. Only through mutual aid were William and Commander Lin able to accomplish what they set out to do. Zhang Yi Mou’s message cannot be more clear – treat us with respect and we’ll honour you; treat us with disrespect and only calamity will come.

The Great Wall, despite its failings, serves a purpose – to introduce Chinese culture to the widest audience possible. Instead of the ‘white saviour’ critics claim William to be, he is simply a lens through which the audience could see the Western perception of China. In a moment of sharp commentary, William’s companion provokes him: “You think you’re a hero? You’re just a thief.” In the end, William’s newly learned humility did make him a hero, but only alongside Commander Lin[/QUOTE]

I think the Taotie needed more explanation for American audiences. They weren’t explained at all really, but Chinese know - a translation deficiency. But that’s just me Monday morning quarterbacking…on Friday no less. :o

[GeneChing]

Forget Matt Damon?

Most of us have already forgotten the Great Wall. :o

Forget Matt Damon, The Great Wall is about China’s quest for global dominance

The Great Wall may have flopped, but the vision behind it is here to stay as China seeks the cultural clout to match its economic strength
Laya Maheshwari
First Published: Sat, Apr 01 2017. 11 35 PM IST

It is not often that a film so eminently forgettable is treated to such heated debate and intense controversy upon arrival. Yet, when the science-fantasy-period-action-monster-spectacular The Great Wall, starring Matt Damon, released in the US in February, it did so weathering a storm of accusations—chief among them being that Hollywood had yet again whitewashed an ostensibly Asian tale.
Now, a month later, The Great Wall is practically out of theaters worldwide, much sooner than its makers had hoped. The movie’s backers are expected to incur a loss of at least $75 million—half of its production budget.
“This was the first movie of its type,” one executive told The Hollywood Reporter, remarking on the American-Chinese co-production aspect of the movie. “There’s no question but that it’s a failure,” said another.
While analysing the colossal misfire behind The Great Wall, one should focus not on the superficial crime of whitewashing, but on an extremely ambitious and disruptive vision of what an “event film” or “international blockbuster” may look like in the future.
One contender may have come and gone, but more like it are not far off. This vision is here to stay, and it can be traced back to one country’s quest to be a global superpower.

A rocky road to release

Accusations started plaguing The Great Wall months before anyone saw it. Eyebrows were raised as soon as it was announced that Chinese auteur Zhang Yimou, once famous for subversive dramas such as Raise the Red Lantern, would be directing a big-budget, special-effects-laden epic centred upon the Great Wall of China and the purpose it served for ancient Chinese empires.
The first promotional poster for the film had the tagline “What were they trying to keep out?” over the all-caps title. The answer, to anyone slightly familiar with history, seemed evident in the poster itself: foreigners like Matt Damon.
The raised eyebrows gave way to eyerolls when the first trailer made it seem like this would be an all-too-familiar and all-too-depressing case of a heterosexual white male protagonist stepping in to save the day when a rich and exotic “other” is under threat.
Examples include—but, sadly, are far from limited to—The Last Samurai, Blood Diamond, The Help and Avatar. The allegations reached such an intensity that both the film’s star and director had to defend it from this fury.
Their statements evidently didn’t do enough; around the time of the film’s release, the hashtag #ThankYouMattDamon—meant to send up the white saviour phenomenon—went viral and was featured in major news publications.

Did a film set in 11th century China really need a white protagonist, many wondered. The explanation that quickly took hold in the popular imagination pinned the blame on Damon, as if he entered an otherwise-untarnished universe and ruined the Chinese’s innocent fun-filled romp with his presence.
This perception not just completely reversed the power dynamics in this series of events, but also failed to understand both the events themselves and their intended audience.
At the beginning of The Great Wall, the vaguely European mercenary played by Damon finally arrives at the titular landmark, where he sees the Song Dynasty’s forces stationed as far a the eye can see. With awe filling his eyes, he exclaims: “I’ve never seen an army like this!”
Over the course of the film’s 104-minute runtime, there are almost as many shots of Damon’s character gawking at the Chinese troops as there are of the attacking monsters.
The film takes pains to point out how the guns-for-hire nature of Damon’s character is at odds with the Chinese troops’ collective loyalty. The fact that he’s fought under multiple flags—the English, the Spanish, the Vatican, etc.—is something the female lead, a winsome Chinese commander who would die for her order, notes with dismay.
For a long time, watching American blockbusters that fetishize its military prowess (i.e., almost anything by Michael Bay or Peter Berg) has been an uncomfortable experience for many. A viewing of The Great Wall evokes similar vibes, except the superpower being deified lies on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.
And that’s why the film was made.

Make China Great Again

Before Donald Trump’s “Make America Great Again”, the Leave campaign’s “Take Back Control” and Narendra Modi’s endless abbreviations, there was Xi Jinping’s “The Chinese Dream”.
And much like those earlier catchphrases (especially in the case of Modi’s coinages), the Chinese president’s term doesn’t carry an explicit, concrete meaning. Instead, it is a catch-all phrase that signifies many things while remaining vague enough to be held accountable for nothing.

Xi Jinping. Photo: Reuters

Xi, who took power in 2012, promised the Chinese people that under his rule their country would finally regain its glory on the global stage. It’s worth remembering this promise the next time there are developments in China’s new Silk Roads initiative, its brash exercises in the South China Sea, or its opposition to the Western-dominated Bretton Woods institutions.
This loss of greatness has its roots in the Century of National Humiliation that China believes it suffered after the First Opium War (1839-42). Starting from the Treaty of Nanking in 1842—when the Qing Dynasty ceded Hong Kong island to the British and recognized them as an equal entity—and continuing to another opium war, more punishing treaties, and the Japanese occupation preceding the Second World War, the repeated embarrassment of China on the international stage is ingrained in the national psyche.
Betraying its name, the Century of National Humiliation hasn’t truly ended—or at least, it keeps getting revived whenever convenient.
Some believe it bottomed out in 1949 when the Communist Party came to power; some believe the return of Hong Kong from the British in 1997 ended it symmetrically; meanwhile, some claim that it will only truly be over when Taiwan is reunited with the mainland.
The Century of National Humiliation works as a never-ending source of motivation, and striving for international validation of China’s power is an intrinsic part of it.
This is widely acknowledged to have played a part in the country’s bid to host the 2008 Summer Olympics; its (bizarre) attempts to win a Nobel Prize in literature; its expensive plans to become a football powerhouse; and its fervent desire to become a cultural heavyweight.
The Chinese Communist Party values the export of its language, its customs, its festivals and its art extremely highly. In fact, it regards the slowness of their current export distressing. “The stories of China should be well told, voices of China well spread, and characteristics of China well explained,” Xi told his communist cadres in 2014.
The richest man in china
The Great Wall was filmed at the Qingdao Movie Metropolis, a megacity enclosing the world’s largest filmmaking facility. Standing on top of an artificial island off China’s eastern coast, the Metropolis—which will be completed in 2018—is expected to cost more than $8 billion and be around twice the size of its nearest rival in the world, Universal. It will contain 45 soundstages, of which two will be permanently underwater.
Who could even have use for such facilities? “In this age of superhero movies and the revival of Star Wars, there’s demand for really big stages,” industry veteran Morgan Hunwicks told The Hollywood Reporter. “Sets that used to have to be built outside can now be brought into a controlled environment, which is a huge advantage.”
Pacific Rim 2, the sequel to Guillermo del Toro’s monster-and-robot mashup, is the next major production to base itself at the Metropolis. That film and The Great Wall are both produced by Legendary Pictures, which was recently bought by the Dalian Wanda Group, the company behind the Metropolis.
continued next post

[GeneChing]

Continued from previous post

The Wanda Group was founded by Wang Jianlin, who is a member of the Communist Party and a delegate to the National People’s Congress. With a net worth exceeding $30 billion, Wang is the richest man in Asia.

Wang Jianlin. Photo: AFP

After making his fortune in real estate, Wang moved on to the media industry. He is behind the Wanda multiplexes, which are inescapable if you’re in China. In 2012, he bought AMC Entertainment and took over their theatres.
Today, Wang, described in a profile in The Economist as “a man of Napoleonic ambition”, owns more cinema screens than anyone else on the planet. Wang also purchased a 20% stake in Atletico Madrid, and his Wanda Group wanted to acquire Dick Clark Productions, with an eye on the broadcast rights to the Golden Globes—among other things.
When announcing the launch of his Qingdao Metropolis, he flew over stars like Nicole Kidman, Kate Beckinsale and Leonardo DiCaprio to smile on the red carpet.
This groundbreaking ceremony, which took place in 2013, is an illuminating precursor to understand where The Great Wall came from and what it will lead to.
For Wang and Wanda Group, dominating the global entertainment marketplace is the end-goal. Not only does he want to own the biggest share of the pie—be it in North America or in China—but he also wants to build up Chinese entertainment brands to rival those in Hollywood.
Wang is under no illusions regarding what the pursuit of that goal will entail. “Optimistically, it will be at least 10 years before we can make films in English that are global,” he said in another profile of him, this one in The Hollywood Reporter. Until then, it makes commercial sense for him to ride on the backs of international celebrities, be it DiCaprio for waving at shutterbugs or Damon for fighting monsters.
The initial reaction in the press and social media is understandable. The Chinese propaganda in the finished film would not have come across easily inside a two-minute trailer. What seemed more likely was a craven production made to appease shareholders even if that meant trampling over cultural authenticity.
Hollywood as an industry, even in the 21st century, is not above casting Benedict Cumberbatch to play someone named Khan (in Star Trek Into Darkness) or Scarlett Johannsson to embody the originally Asian lead in the adaptation of Ghost in the Shell, a Japanese animated film based on a manga of the same name.
In a popular discourse still reeling from the #OscarsSoWhite controversy, Damon’s face plastered atop a film set in China hit all the wrong notes.
However, make no mistake, in a project like The Great Wall, it’s the white male lead who is expendable and replaceable—not the people behind the scenes making all the decisions of import.
“Matt Damon is not playing a role that was originally conceived for a Chinese actor,” director Zhang Yimou told Entertainment Weekly. If Damon were unavailable—say, filming another Bourne sequel—Wang and the Wanda Group would have arranged for another box-office draw of his calibre to fill in.
For the type of films they hope to make and the kind of message China wants to broadcast to both the world and, especially, its domestic audience, what’s essential is not just that a face like Matt Damon’s appear on the poster but also that a person like Matt Damon recognize the might of Chinese forces and aid them in their mission to bring peace to the world.

The near future

The US is the world’s biggest box-office market today, but it will be overtaken by China in a few years. Already, major blockbusters such as Fast and Furious 7 or Transformers: Age of Extinction are grossing more in China than they are in the States.
More importantly, for films such as the first Pacific Rim (budget: $190 million), their earnings in China can make the difference between incurring a loss and recouping the original investment.
China is notoriously restrictive in the foreign productions it grants theatrical release. Under its import quotas, only 34 titles are allowed distribution every year. The companies behind these chosen few earn merely 25% of ticket revenues—still substantial in a market where a successful film can gross more than $300 million.
However, to sidestep the quota, companies can choose to make their title a Chinese co-production. The requirements are onerous—Chinese production companies are infamous for intruding upon the script—and have led some previous aspirants (Disney’s Iron Man 3) to abandon the attempt midway.
But being branded a co-production also raises the share of the foreign partner’s earnings to 43%. And international titles that utilize the Qingdao Metropolis can qualify for a 40% production rebate from the city’s municipal corporation. So it is safe to bet that the failure of The Great Wall notwithstanding, Hollywood and its celebrities will be back in China for more.
When you look at The Great Wall, you can notice the beginnings of an Asian conglomerate’s revolutionary vision. You can see a business model that an American industry has desperately turned to in the face of declining theatrical attendance and growing international power.
You can observe how a country reaches out when it’s eager for the cultural clout and soft power that it believes should accompany its economic strength. It’s a sprawling tale of an exotic “other” that touches upon sky-high ambition, centuries of history and a drastic shift in global power structures.
Yet, the media discussion has focused upon one white male who’s a rather peripheral element in the bigger picture. If only there were a term for that.

Laya Maheshwari is a journalist who has reported on cinema and propaganda from countries such as North Korea, China, Russia and Turkey. His writing has appeared in The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, The Guardian and Al Jazeera—among other publications.
Comments are welcome at feedback@livemint.com
20/20 hindsight. In the rear view mirror, objects appear larger than actual size.

[GeneChing]

tipping point?

How many nails doth a coffin make?

Is a Disappointing Ghost in the Shell the Nail in the Coffin of Hollywood Whitewashing?
The film’s anemic box office is only the latest financial fallout of Asian erasure.
by JOANNA ROBINSON
APRIL 2, 2017 3:54 PM

From left: courtesy of Netflix, courtesy of Paramount, courtesy of Legendary

It’s become increasingly impossible to ignore general social pushback when it comes to Asian representation in film and television. Whether it’s cut-and-dried whitewashing (e.g., casting a white performer in an Asian role) or slightly more complex cases of cultural appropriation, the hue and cry from progressive voices in film and TV criticism has called for an end to white leads in Asian and Asian-inspired properties. But Hollywood—a town driven by dollars and not always sense—is more likely to listen when protests hurt the bottom line. Ghost in the Shell, the Scarlett Johansson-starring adaptation of the popular Japanese manga, is only the latest controversial project to stumble at the box office. Will this misstep finally put an end to whitewashing?

According to Box Office Mojo, in its first weekend, Ghost in the Shell pulled in approximately $20 million domestically on a $110 million budget—below even the conservative prediction that site made earlier in the week. That number looks even more anemic when compared with Lucy, Johansson’s R-rated 2014 film, which pulled in $43.8 million on its opening weekend. Unlike Ghost in the Shell, Lucy wasn’t based on a pre-existing property and didn’t have an established fanbase to draw on. But the Johansson casting has clearly alienated fans of the original manga and anime versions of Ghost in the Shell, and their dampened enthusiasm appears to have discouraged newcomers as well.

The controversy around Johansson’s casting has plagued Ghost in the Shell since late 2014. Johansson stars as Major (whose full name is “Major Motoko Kusanagi” in the manga), a synthetic, cybernetic body housing the brain of a dead Japanese woman. Both fans of the original and advocates for Asian actors in Hollywood argued that a Japanese actress should have been cast in the role, while a spokesperson for Ghost in the Shell publisher Kodansha gave Johansson its blessing, saying the publisher “never imagined it would be a Japanese actress in the first place.” Johansson herself defended the film this week, saying:

[QUOTE]I think this character is living a very unique experience in that she has a human brain in an entirely machinate body. I would never attempt to play a person of a different race, obviously. Hopefully, any question that comes up of my casting will be answered by audiences when they see the film.

But it seems audiences weren’t inclined to give the film that chance. There’s no ignoring the fact that controversy cast a cloud over the film, and it’s difficult not to draw a direct line from that to the movie’s disappointing opening weekend.

Ghost in the Shell is not the first project to feel the burn of “race-bent” casting. Though other factors may have added to their unpopularity, The Last Airbender, Exodus: Gods and Kings, Aloha, Pan, and more have all foundered at the box office. (These films also received unfavorable reviews, but bad reviews alone can’t snuff out box-office potential.) Matt Damon’s heavily criticized, China-set film The Great Wall didn’t fare much better. In addition to becoming an Oscar night punchline for Jimmy Kimmel, the movie grossed only $45 million domestically on a $150 million budget. Marvel’s too-big-to-fail Avengers installment Doctor Strange is the recent exception that proves the rule: not even Tilda Swinton’s controversial casting in the historically Asian role of the Ancient One could slow this film down. It made more than $232 million domestically and $677.5 million worldwide.

But since Netflix won’t release ratings data to the public, the jury is still out on whether the Marvel brand was also enough to combat the furor over Finn Jones being cast as the historically white Danny Rand in the latest Defenders installment, Iron Fist. (This is a case in which “cultural appropriation”—Danny is a better martial artist than all the other Asian characters around him—inspired public outcry, rather than “whitewashing.”) While various tech companies have claimed in the past to be able to analyze Netflix’s data, Netflix CEO Ted Sarandos himself has historically pushed back on those results. One such company, 7Park Data, claims that Iron Fist defied both bad reviews and controversy to become Netflix’s “most-binged drama premiere”—meaning audiences allegedly tore through episodes at a faster clip than usual. But by the only Netflix-sanctioned metric available—the site’s soon-to-be-gone star rating—Iron Fist is lagging behind other Defenders shows. As of publication, it had earned only three stars from users, compared with Daredevil, Jessica Jones, and Luke Cage—which all pulled in 4.25 or higher.

Even if Marvel’s bottom line is controversy-proof so far, it’s unlikely that its parent company, the increasingly and intentionally diverse Walt Disney Studios, will want to weather further public relations storms like the ones that swirled around both Doctor Strange and Iron Fist. Paramount, too, seems to have kept its head down when it came to deploying Ghost in the Shell. After it was revealed that the visual effects company Lola VFX had done tests on Ghost in the Shell in order to digitally “shift” the “ethnicity” of a Caucasian actress and make her appear more Asian in the film (there’s disagreement over whether that actress was Johansson herself), the wind went out of the studio’s sails. Ghost in the Shell also screened very late for critics—a sure sign that a studio would prefer to mitigate any damage caused by negative word of mouth and early reviews.

But what has tipped the needle on the issue of Asian erasure in film and television from progressive social concern to bottom-line disrupter? Pushback on both whitewashing and limited opportunities for Asian performers in Hollywood has recently gotten a boosted signal, thanks to both social media and the uncensored honesty of popular Asian and East Asian actors like Kal Penn, John Cho, Constance Wu, Aziz Ansari, and Ming-Na Wen. And that boosted signal comes at a time when, according to a 2016 MPAA study, younger (and likely more socially progressive) Asian-American film-goers between the ages of 18 and 24 are going to more movies, while the Caucasian film-going population is on the decline.

But domestic box office alone may not be enough to bring about social change. With Hollywood increasingly obsessed with appealing to lucrative Asian markets abroad, it’s as yet unclear whether casting white leads in Asian-centric or inspired properties hurts the global bottom line. The Great Wall, directed by Chinese legend Zhang Yimou, did decently overseas, making 86.4 percent of its total intake on foreign screens. And while Ghost in the Shell has yet to open in either Japan or China, it took in roughly $40.1 million in other foreign markets this weekend, including Russia, Germany, and South Korea. Then again, the massive global box-office returns of films with diverse casts, including Rogue One and the Fast and the Furious franchise, render any argument that Caucasian actors are required for international success null and void.

Meanwhile, at home, the protests against Asian erasure are only growing more intense. While still licking its wounds from the critical drubbing it received for Iron Fist, Netflix is staring down the barrel of another appropriation controversy. This time, it’s the popular manga Death Note that has gotten a Seattle-based makeover, putting Caucasian actors Nat Wolff and Margaret Qualley in roles that originally had the last names Yagami and Amane. Willem Dafoe will voice the Japanese spirit Ryuk. The protest around Death Note is already significantly louder than for other past American adaptations of Asian properties like The Ring, The Grudge, and The Departed.

Though America itself is a very socially divided country, the cool, impartial truth of box-office returns reveals a film and TV industry that is facing a sea change when it comes to Asian representation. History may soon look back on the Asian erasure of Doctor Strange, Iron Fist, and Ghost in the Shell with an even more unfavorable eye. Just as blackface in film and TV gradually became unacceptable (and more recently than you may think), the marginalization and appropriation of Asian culture could be on its way out the door—with these recent financial disappointments only serving as a last gasp of a bygone era.[/QUOTE]

[GeneChing]

Sort of obvious, but it’s good to hear from Zhang Yimou

There’s an embedded vid but the article pretty much paraphrases it.

Director behind ‘Great Wall’ says China has a long way to go to rival Hollywood
Sophia Yan
10 Hours Ago
CNBC.com

Tuesday, 9 May 2017 | 10:57 PM ET | 03:58

China has a long road ahead if it wants to rival Hollywood’s influence, said award-winning movie director Zhang Yimou.

Chinese audiences hotly follow U.S. actors and movies, but Americans “probably” don’t care much about Chinese movies, Zhang told CNBC. On the outside, maybe they’ve tracked a couple of stars like Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan or Jet Li, he said.

“What we need is Chinese people to produce better films, and this will take some time,” said the well-known director.

China has splashed billions into the entertainment industry to cobble influence abroad — giant firms like Dalian Wanda and Alibaba invested big in Hollywood. Those moves will theoretically help China to build soft power, especially as the world’s second-largest economy seeks to become a valuable global connector. But China has yet to reap the rewards, and still doesn’t hold Hollywood’s clout. Some critics say Chinese government censorship restricts creativity, while others say the industry is still building the necessary know-how.

Censorship has “always been there … It’s the reality of Chinese society,” Zhang said. “I hope this will change in the future, and that things become more open as the country continues to develop … but right now, it is what it is.”

Zhang has attracted government censors before — his 1994 movie “To Live” was banned in China. Still, over his long career, he’s scored numerous top awards and notched plenty of major hits, including “Hero” and “Raise the Red Lantern.” His latest, and first English-language film, “Great Wall,” was largely anticipated to pave the way for the Chinese film industry to blossom internationally. But critics tore down the movie, calling it trite, and slamming the casting of American actor Matt Damon — instead of a Chinese actor — in the lead.

Identity politics aside, Zhang said it’s true that foreign firms have more advanced skills, techniques and technology, and that adds pressure to Chinese film studios. But in the long run, he added, more Chinese-Hollywood co-productions can only be a good thing.

“It creates competition, and that can drive Chinese companies to set a higher bar for themselves,” Zhang said. “Cooperating with foreign teams allows Chinese to learn many new things, and we are now using what we’ve learned to improve.”

CNBC | Barry Huang
Chinese filmmaker Zhang Yimou speaks with CNBC.

For Hollywood, China remains crucial — the entire Chinese market was worth $6.6 billion at the box office last year. And for China, it’s an “opportunity to export Chinese culture abroad,” Zhang said.

That’s an increasingly important theme as Beijing continues to pursue its “One Belt, One Road” policy — a giant plan to develop and strengthen links between China and the rest of the world. With this plan, “we are engaging others … then, we can see what we can do together, and this will be beneficial for everyone,” Zhang said.

Aside from movies, Zhang has also worked on staged productions, including the opening and closing ceremonies at the 2008 Beijing Olympics. This June, his “2047 Apologue,” a theatrical dance and music concept show that explores the interaction of technology and humankind, will debut in Beijing.

Sophia Yan
Beijing Correspondent, CNBC

[GeneChing]

There’s still a lot of potential money in co-prods. It’ll happen eventually.

After ‘The Great Wall,’ Can China-Hollywood Co-Productions Be Saved?
9:30 PM PDT 5/18/2017 by Patrick Brzeski , Scott Roxborough

Courtesy of Legendary and Universal Pictures
‘The Great Wall,’ starring Damon, bombed in the U.S. and underwhelmed in China

After a number of high-profile failures, savvy producers are finding ways to get past cultural and regulatory hurdles to gain access to the Middle Kingdom.

On paper, linking the world’s two top box-office territories — North America and China — via a co-production designed to play in both seems a no-brainer.

But despite many attempts, big and small, and seemingly endless industry panel discussions dedicated to the topic, there are virtually no U.S.-China co-productions that have succeeded financially in both territories.

The landscape is littered with examples of promising projects that faltered or failed. Remember The Flowers of War? Zhang Yimou’s World War II period epic starring Christian Bale and Chinese star Ni Ni was a hit at home, grossing $95 million in China but wilted stateside, earning a mere $311,000. 2011’s Inseparable, a mystery drama starring Kevin Spacey and Daniel Wu, didn’t even secure a U.S. release.

Courtesy of Lionsgate; Courtesy of Colordance
Christian Bale in The Flowers of War; Kevin Spacey in Inseparable.

And Legendary Entertainment’s The Great Wall, billed as the film that would usher in a new era of big-budget, mutually beneficial collaboration between Hollywood and Beijing, ended up a disaster for all concerned. After the pricey Yimou-directed tentpole starring Matt Damon bombed in North America and underwhelmed in China, losing at least $75 million, the viability of such partnerships has never been more in doubt.

To qualify as an official U.S.-China co-production, a film’s story must contain considerable Chinese cultural elements and Chinese professionals must make up a large portion of the cast and crew; but in return, the U.S. partner is permitted to take 43 percent of the movie’s Chinese box-office revenue, instead of the usual 25 percent that U.S. studio imports receive under China’s quota system.

But the regulatory hurdles can prove too burdensome. Both Iron Man 3 and Transformers 4 originally were planned as Chinese co-pros before the studios decided the restrictions required to make the deals work were not worth the potential benefits.

“There are so many difficulties with this system,” says the head of one major Chinese studio (who requested not to be named because of the potential consequences of criticizing China’s official system). “On-set, the cultural and language barriers make it very difficult to maintain a smooth production. In the market, if you add too much Chinese cast and content, you tend to lose box office overseas, where most audiences still aren’t accustomed to Chinese culture.”

Many of China’s savviest producers have given up on official co-pros altogether, though they are still collaborating with Hollywood. They are now flipping the script: Instead of working on U.S. films with a Chinese element, they focus on making Chinese movies better equipped to travel.

Shanghai-based studio Bliss Media’s forthcoming S.M.A.R.T. Chase is exemplary of the new wave. An English-language action-thriller, the film stars Orlando Bloom as a washed-up private security agent who has to escort a valuable Chinese antique out of Shanghai.

“It is actually a Chinese film, but we produced it like an international one,” says Bliss CEO Han Wei. “The main department heads were from the U.S., and the rest of the crew is Chinese. We shot the whole thing in Shanghai, and it has a big Hollywood star [Bloom] and several big Chinese ones [Simon Yam, Hannah Quinlivan, Lynn Hung].”

Beijing-based Leomus Pictures has a similar vision but is approaching the formula from the opposite side of the border. The company was instrumental in the Chinese success of Lionsgate’s Now You See Me 2, on which it was a co-financier and Chinese distributor — after Leomus cast Taiwanese pop star Jay Chou in a supporting role, the film opened to $43.3 million in China, nearly double its $23 million bow in North America.

Says Leomus’ CEO Jie Qiu: “The United States and China are becoming more connected all of the time, so maybe in the future there will be more natural stories involving Americans and Chinese that we can make into movies that both cultures can fully accept — but we’re not there yet.”

Jay Maidment/Lionsgate
Jay Chou in Now You See Me 2.
This story first appeared in the May 19 Cannes daily issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine.

It was too bad about Inseparable. That was a really good film. Flowers & Wall were both overhyped.