By Ruyi Liu
It comes as no surprise that ‘Red’ is the dominant colour for the Chinese National Day cinema release. Among the top ten ongoing programmes, five films are themed as either a tribute to the historical hardship of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) or adulation to extraordinary Chinese strength. In fact, in recent years, propaganda films that appeal to Chinese nationalism or values celebrated by CCP have become the master of the Chinese film industry. This need is especially prominent in the Covid-19 period, whereby public morale is down in the wake of incessant lockdowns. However, the question remains whether the audience is truly in favour of these films. While being conceived as the Chinese strategy to project soft power, propaganda films seem to work better in the domestic market as a mechanism to garner popular support for the Party. How should one view the efforts of utilising films as propaganda machines? In what ways can the Chinese project soft power through the entertainment industry beyond a domestic audience?
Setting the Scene: The Rollback of Propaganda film
If one takes a retrospective look at the history of the Chinese film industry, one will discover a continuous string of propaganda films evolving with key CCP domestic and foreign policies. This is evident in Shang Gan Ling (Battle on Shang Gan Ling), set in the context of the Korean War, and Dong Fang Hong (The East is Red), which honours the leadership of Mao Zedong in 1965 when the Cultural Revolution was commencing. With the Open and Reform policy in the late 1970s, an increasing number of foreign films flooded into the Chinese market. At the same time, domestic films started to embrace more liberal and diverse expressions, as seen in Hong Gao Liang (Red Sorghum) and Ba Wang Bie Ji (Farewell, My Concubine).
After the golden age from 2001 to the 2010s, when domestic commercial films and Hollywood production flourished, movies with explicit propaganda bounced back. From 2016 to 2021, China’s movement to restrict the scope of movie releases is most prominent in limiting foreign movie imports, as seen in the increasing market share of domestic movies from 73.9% to 89.96% in proportion to foreign ones.
This recent trend intricately corresponds to China’s foreign policy shift from the decades-long “keeping a low profile” since the 1980s to “striving for achievement” as the hawkish leader Xi Jinping ascends to power. This is evident in the release of Zhan Lang (Wolf Warrior) and its sequel, which glorify a more assertive Chinese diplomatic image, later popularising the rather coercive “Wolf Warrior” diplomacy under Xi’s administration. Similar films such as Mei Gong He Xing Dong (Operation Mekong) and Liu Lang Di Qiu (The Wandering Earth) emphasise the imperative presence of China on the global stage and augment the sense of heroism in Chinese leadership to address international crises. Particularly, Chang Jin Hu (The Battle of Lake Changjin), which is set in the battle against the US in the Korean War, resonates with the US-China heightened competition and probably intends to sway public opinion towards the anti-American diplomatic rhetoric.
Another tactic to restrict the movie scope is implicit state funding for propaganda films, inadvertently reducing the diversity in movie genres. It is common to interpret the recent resurgence of propaganda films as the choice by the market and blame the ‘power of the capital’. For many Chinese directors, tapping into nationalism is easy money to earn thanks to increasing public support for domestic films. Organised film tours by schools or danwei (work units) for patriotic education provide an additional warranty.
However, propaganda films are not necessarily profitable unless under governmental intervention. Director’s choice is often a response to the government’s political signals in the rhetoric of achieving the “Chinese Dream” and the “Great Revival of China”. With an increasing stringent film scrutiny scheme in place, there is hardly any room left for uncensored creations. In the words of Feng Xiaogang, an iconic Chinese film director, Chinese filmmakers have to dance with shackles. In contrast, it is far more convenient for films that sell nationalistic sentiment to secure necessary funding and investments backed by the government. They are automatically granted the green light for release, especially during special occasions such as the National Day holiday.
Unravel the Plot: Are People genuinely acceptant?
Wan Li Gui Tu (Home Coming), which tells the story of how two Chinese diplomats successfully rescue Chinese citizens from the war-torn Republic of Noumea, tops the Chinese National Day holiday box office in 2022 and garners close to $146 million of its first release. Indeed, Patriotic films have demonstrated exceptional performance. For instance, in 2021, the film Wo He Wo De Fu Bei (My Country, My Parents) earned $76 million in its weekend release. Box Office and rave reviews on Chinese social platforms such as Weibo and Dou Ban suggest the popularity of propaganda films among the public.
Based on the reviews, there are several reasons why these movies are earning people’s hearts. First, the propaganda films in recent years are mainly action movies, whetting the audience’s appetite for an adrenaline rush, though these patriotic films can be seen as forced substitutes for foreign movies.
Second, there is a growing trend of employing young idols as actors or actresses in patriotic movies. Being patriotic sometimes exemplifies good moral character and implies credibility for these idols. This phenomenon creates an interesting intersection between propaganda and Chinese online celebrity fan circles, where fans from a younger demographic become the primary consumers and advocates for these movies in support of their idols.
Lastly, the more classic reason hinges on the social psychology of nationalism. The population feels involved in the grandiose narratives of the nation’s formation, evoking a striking collective identity of esteem and pride. This sense of belonging in the imagined community tugs people’s heartstrings. More importantly, it is CCP’s intention to equate such nationalistic feelings with patriotism for the existing authority. The government’s attempt to blur the line between political party and nation dictates Party as the patriarch who represents the nation.
Nevertheless, dissidents do exist. Sensing the tightening grip of the government, many doubt whether the current film market is healthy with the suffocated new movie release. Such criticism reached its peak when the broadly acclaimed Yin Ru Chen Yan (Return to Dust), a film about rural hardship in North-Western China, was removed from all Chinese streaming platforms. Fortunately, despite the bleak atmosphere, Chinese cinephiles have found alternative outlets via illegitimate websites for downloading or streaming prohibited domestic and foreign movies. For many, the way to passively resist is to simply abandon the cinema.
Reaching The End: Conclusion and Beyond
Spreading values through the cinema is not a unique Chinese invention. One can argue that the Marvel heroes, which epitomises the spirit of American liberalism, are a form of successful promotion of soft power. The Korean film-making model is similarly successful, demonstrated by the widely acclaimed shows Parasite and Squid Game. In the case of China, paradoxically, the showcase of hard power muscles on the screen implies the inadequacy of soft power projection, both within and outside of the nation. When a regime is insecure and challenged by alternative influences, it tries hard to burnish its image and suppress opposite voices. To some extent, the Chinese film market today may reflect certain kinds of anxieties.
China is not incapable of spreading its soft power through movies, and there are emerging talents who are actively contributing. The abovementioned example of Yin Ru Chen Yan reached and struck the international audience during the 67th Valladolid International Film Festival and won the Golden Spike with its subtle and authentic portrayal of rural life, as well as the beautiful yet tragic love story. Similar to the Parasite, which reflects the economic divide between the wealthy and the poor in Korean society, Yin Ru Chen Yan depicts aspects of social inequality and the dark side of China’s Common Prosperity Programme. They are both successful in adapting local issues to be understood by global audiences. Rated 88% on Rotten Tomatoes, the Chinese animation Ne Zha is another example that reconstructs the traditional Chinese hero. The protagonist Ne Zha who rebels against patriarchy, resembles the Marvel heroes in their fight against fate and destiny. This film succeeds in highlighting the pursuit of self-realisation in conflict with Chinese values yet beyond the local cultural context to echo with international audiences.
Although these efforts are plausible, state control remains an obstacle which impedes the development of private film companies and restrains the creativity of filmmakers. More alarmingly, the restriction set on foreign films may hinder the essential cultural exchange and deepen the cultural barrier between the Chinese audience and the international audience. The result would be increased difficulty in expressing the Chinese voice and projecting Chinese soft power through films. What is truly lacking and ardently needed is a stretch of free and nurturing soil for innovation and creativity, unimpeded by political constraints. It is time to move away from dry political propaganda and regain cultural confidence in audacious exploration and freedom of expression.
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