Hong Kong movies: problems and promise

It's hardly a secret that the Hong Kong film industry is facing one of the most difficult periods in its history. Production has been falling in the past few years, the East Asian economic meltdown has affected several of its key export markets, some leading directors have left to pursue careers in the US, and money for making movies is now much more difficult to find locally. However, after a year of panic, there are signs that the traditional Hong Kong work ethos - adaptation and invention, to solve a problem, rather than sit around complaining - is beginning to reassert itself. Though the number of films made has declined, the overall quality has not been radically affected - rather, much of the dross has simply been got rid of. Directors are still coming to the fore (Wai Ka-fai, Patrick Leung, Andrew Lau, Patrick Yau, James Yuen), several internationally known filmmakers (Jackie Chan, Ann Hui, Stanley Kwan, Ringo Lam, Wong Kar-wai, Yim Ho) continue to base themselves in Hong Kong, and though the talent may now be working wider afield, the city still remains the engine room of Chinese-language filmmaking in East Asia. Everyone seems to agree, though, that in the next few years it will exist in a radically different form. Diminishing box-office for local films since 1993, plus increasing competition from US blockbusters, has been a major headache for local producers. Although US films have ruled at the box-office before, during the 1980s and early 1990s local films dominated the years' top tens. Filmmakers became lazy and greedy: as the 1997 handover to China hoved into view a get-rich-quick attitude permeated the nervous industry, with actors' and some directors' fees escalating way beyond what the market could realistically stand. In 1993 profit margins started to slip; by 1997 foreign (mainly US) movies took a total of US$78.5 million of the annual box office, compared with US$71 million for local films. Though much of this was because of a few American blockbusters, it was the first year since 1980 that foreign films outgrossed local ones. The industry crossed a psychological Rubicon. When the local market began to slide in 1993, big spenders like South Korea still helped to keep Hong Kong producers' coffers full. This lifebelt vanished when the East Asian economic crisis dealt a bodyblow to the Korean economy. However, Japan -Hong Kong's biggest market- has so far remained relatively steady. From a high in the early 1990s of around 150 films a year, production in 1997 was down to some 94 movies. In 1998 it fell further, to around 80; and a lower figure is forecast for this year. Big entities like Golden Harvest have slammed the brakes on production. Funding is difficult to come by, and budgets were down to around US$800,000 in 1998, from $1 million in 1997. The lower end of the market has even seen movies in the US$300,000 range. As film production has shrunk, technicians have shifted over to television and commercials, or simply emigrated to places as diverse as Canada and Shanghai. Meanwhile, pirate video compact discs (VCDs) - entrenched underground operations which are estimated to lose the industry around 40% of total revenue each year - continue to take their toll. Police regularly raid shops which openly display them but they are usually back in business by the next morning. It's a case of supply and demand: at US$6-7, cinema tickets are perceived to be too high by audiences; for the same price they can get two new theatrical releases to watch in the comfort of their own home. Now, filmmakers are fighting back. After five years of being at a loss as to what the public wanted from their films, producers are coming up with new ideas. There has also been some belated assistance from the government, and some tentative foreign investment. What's more, spurred on by a need to compete with US movies, the films themselves have been getting better. Eyeing the foreign competition, local producers have come up with two creative solutions to attract audiences back to cinemas. First, they feel that the audience want large-scale local pictures that can equal Hollywood's scale and special effects. Secondly - at last! - they have decided to pay more attention to the scripts. Golden Harvest went big with its US$10 million action fantasy The Storm Riders, turning it into Hong Kong's first "event" movie. A powerful publicity campaign made it a must-see movie along the lines of Titanic, and the film set a record by grossing US$594,560 on its opening day last summer. Everyone enjoyed the many special effects, which were well executed by co-producer Centro Digital Pictures, even though some felt that the story, based on a long-running comic book series, was too slight. Still, The Storm Riders gave the industry a muchneeded boost in confidence. In fact, 1998 saw special effects become a buzzword in Hong Kong. Films like Golden Harvest's Extreme Crisis played fast and loose with some Die Hard-style pyrotechnics. Producers think that as Hong Kongers readily flock to US films like Armaggedon to see foreign buildings blown up, they will swarm back to the cinema to see local landmarks exploding as well. Talk of blowing up local landmarks like the Convention & Exhibition Centre is now rife; perhaps thankfully, it's difficult to get permission to film on such locations for high-concept movies, although Media Asia plans to "demolish" on-screen one well-known skyscraper in its forthcoming actionthriller The Terrorists. Even Ringo Lam - a normally restrained director, by Hong Kong standards - got into the special-effects act last year, using a Very Big Gun in the opening scene of The Suspect. Lam, however, chose to be more cost-effective by shooting in the Philippines, leaving Hong Kong's architecture unscathed. Along with special effects has come a desire to increase the production values of movies - to make them look as big as the foreign competition. Some have been more artistically successful than others. Johnny Mak's Island Of Greed (1997), a kind of return to the Big Timer movies of the late 1980s, was a critical success. The action was set amidst the political corruption of Taiwan, and benefited from some top-notch performances from Andy Lau and Tony Leung Ka-fai (The Lover). The Hitman (1998), Jet Li's last Hong Kong movie before moving to the U.S. for Lethal Weapon 4, was also a much-vaunted big picture, but failed to deliver either as a drama or actioner. This style of production rolls out at about US$5 million. Finding a good script has become the other industry talking point, and has so far been more of a problem than upgrading production values. The territory used to have some good scriptwriters in the 1970s, but writers are paid so low that a creative force has never developed in Hong Kong - added to which, talented scriptwriters (like James Yuen and Wai Kafai) often become directors themsleves. Films are often improvised during shooting by the director, working from a storyline, or are simply made up on the hoof - a process called "flying paper." To complicate the situation, unlike China or Taiwan, Hong Kong also doesn't have a developed literary culture to breed new writers. Consequently, some companies are beginning to develop new talent from abroad. Milkyway Image - headed by producer/director Johnnie To - hired two French writers to script his movie Running out of Time. Written in English, the script was then translated into Cantonese, with the process overseen by the writers to preserve the tone of the dialogue. Although few films have managed to achieve the tight three-act structure of a good US commercial feature, there have been some big improvements in local scripts. Characterisation is getting stronger, even though some producers' demands can still scupper the best intentions. In Beastcops (1998), for example, a blood-drenched finale upstages a feisty, dialogue-driven middle section. In fact, director Gordon Chan's sole reason for making the film was to explore the laddish relationships of the three central characters during this middle act. The violent ending was tagged on to satisfy the producers, and was directed not by Chan but by co-director Dante Lam. Although all the gore was not without irony, it still looked out of place in what was essentially a fine character-driven picture. If some dramas could do with a little less action, then some actioners could do with a little more drama. Jackie Chan was well aware of this when he made Who Am I? (1998), his best Hong Kong film for some time. Although the movie is divided into two distinct halves - one set in South African and the other in Rotterdam - Chan worked hard to keep a credible story and characters running throughout. Nowadays the script's the thing for Chan. Whereas once he admitted that his films grew out of ideas for action scenes - the story was simply to link these scenes together - last year he offered HK$1 million for a good script. Prolific producer-director-writer Wong Jing, who began his career as a TV screenwriter, isn't usually too much concerned with good scripts. His movies usually trade on a combination of topical sleaze and cheeky sex to see him through, adding star glamour for his bigger pictures. However, A True Mob Story (1998), which he also directed, proved to be an engrossing character study, with megastar Andy Lau in a "good triad" role, even though the story's lack of focus made the picture less powerful than a previous gangland saga, Island of Greed, also starring Lau. As a producer, Wong has been very active during this time of recession, and was involved with five out of the top ten grossing films of 1998. Some of his films are made with major production house Win's Entertainment/China Star, others with Bob & Partners, whose anarchic Young and Dangerous series instantly connected with Hong Kong's edgy youth. The Wong-produced glossy exploitationer Raped by an Angel 2: The Uniform Fan (1998), which includes an assault on a teenage schoolgirl, shows he can be shameless in pursuit of a fast buck; Raped by an Angel 3 (1998), deliciously subtitled Sexual Fantasy of the Chief Executive, shows he still possesses a sense of irreverant humour. Love Generation Hong Kong (1998), co-directed with Ip Wai-man, shows that his ability to judge the mood of the moment hasn't deserted him in difficult times. Hong Kong's famed "Category III" (sex and violence) movies have carried on regardless of the recession, good taste and everything else. Having a ready audience on film, video, VCD and now Video On Demand, they're cheap and quick to make - and can pick up foreign sales. Even production houses like Golden Harvest churn out the occasional sex movie, such as the latest instalment of exotic period erotica, Sex & Zen 3 (1998), directed by the prolific Aman Chang, responsible for Raped by an Angel 2 and 3. "To revive the fortunes of Hong Kong films, we need to restore people's confidence in us," director Gordon Chan told me the day after the successful Hong Kong press premiere of Beastcops. "Beastcops is full of Hong Kong characters, and I think this will be its strong point. I've tried to give the audience something very familiar. They will understand their problems and feel for them - and hopefully enjoy watching them sort them out." Chan also claimed that producers are at such a loss about what to do that they are giving filmmakers a very free hand to experiment. Nowhere is experimentation more evident than at medium-sized production company Milkway Image, although in this case hands-on producer Johnnie To is actually enjoying the freedom as much as his directors. Patrick Yau's Expect the Unexpected (1998), which has resonances of Gordon Chan's superlative The Final Option (1994) in its mixture of action and private lives - certainly lives up to its title, with a draining, totally unexpected finale that breaks all the rules. Others herald romance as the saviour of Hong Kong cinema. Japanese director Shunji Iwai's delicate Love Letter (1995), one of the longest running releases ever in Hong Kong, thrilled couple-conscious teens and the twenties crowd to tears; some fans declared it a criminal shame that Hong Kong directors couldn't come up with similarly sophisticated romantic fare. Trendy Japanese relationship dramas like Love Generation have proved nothing short of a sensation on TV. Anna Magdalena (1998), made by former art director Yee Chung-man for United Filmmakers Organisation (UFO) with Japanese money, is a direct attempt to bring some Iwai-style imagination and tone to a local feature, although the fantasy romance's speedy pace anchors it definitively in Hong Kong. UFO, which also produced Peter Chan's romantic hit, Comrades, Almost A Love Story, folded last year after being a Golden Harvest affiliate during its final years. It was one of the few companies able to marry art and commercialism in a format that Hong Kong teens and twentysomethings felt they could relate to. UFO went out in grand style with the glossy melodrama City of Glass (1998), directed by Mabel Cheung and starring heartthrobs Leon Lai and Shu Qi. Meanwhile, a small independent scene has been developing, assisted by grants from Hong Kong's Arts Development Council. Although many Hong Kong films are technically "independent," as they are made outside of the main production houses, indie films in the sense of alternative or artistically innovative movies have been rare. However, Fruit Chan showed it was possible - with a little financial help from superstar Andy Lau - with Made in Hong Kong (1997). A few others have been produced, including Chan's follow-up The Longest Summer (1999), but the tryly "independent" sector scene is very small and still has to find its feet. A promising sign is that the Hong Kong government - which has generally remained at financial arm's length from the industry - is now getting involved. In 1997 it announced plans for a Film Services Office, which will fulfil some of the duties of the long wished-for Film Commission. The Government also put a plot of land up for auction for a new studio to be built. A group of six producers working under the name Hong Kong Movie City Ltd. won the bid: the $78 million investment in the project is a strong show of confidence by the local industry. "Now is not the time to cut corners and budgets," says Media Asia managing director Thomas Chung, one of the consortium. "The problems with the industry stem from the fact that we haven't grown. We have made good and successful movies in the past, yet we haven't kept up with digital technology and special effects. We should concentrate on producing better quality product, all the way from the script through to post-production. " The Hong Kong government has also invested HK$100 million (US$13 million) in the film industry. Initially this was to be used for special effects but discussion is now underway to plan how the money can be better invested, with a start date planned for this April. Early indications were for small production loans of HK$2.5 million a project. Film-makers were asking for more money to be spread over fewer projects, correctly pointing out that more low-budget movies is exactly what Hong Kong doesn't need. Others have called for the money to be invested in training. Foreign investment, too, is creeping in. Columbia Tri-Star has set up shop in the territory, with an eye to making Hong Kong pictures for the Asian market. Japanese companies like Amuse continue to help bankroll the occasional Hong Kong film, usually adding some Japanese stars. More of such collaborations are planned: Japan loves Hong Kong films and Hong Kong loves Japanese TV stars. Just as many scriptwriters turn to directing, so other behind-the-camera names continue to make directing debuts - proof that there is still a vibrant talent pool in the territory. Following in the footsteps of art director Yee Chung-man with Anna Magdalena, esteemed cinematographer Jingle Ma made his directorial debut last year with the special effects actioner Hot War. Among actors, action star Donnie Yen has gone on to direct his second feature, Ballistic Kiss (1998), and idol Francis Ng has made 9413... (1999). Many observers believe that the main solution to Hong Kong's financial dilemmas lies to the north - mainland China and its huge potential market, access to which so far has been on a strict quota basis (although pirate copies of Hong Kong movies are freely available on video and VCD). Most producers believe that the opening up of China, to form an integrated Greater China market, is the only way of sustaining a major production industry in Hong Kong as in the past. The problem here is that the Mainland door keeps opening and closing unpredictably. Recently, as in 1994-95, things seem to be loosening up, but long-term major changes still look like some time away.