38 China TheEconomistJanuary22nd 2022
jing and Shanghai International Film Fes
tivals in 2021. Government support seems
bottomless. ”The Battle at Lake Changjin”,
like many such flicks, was subsidised out
of a special fund that takes 5% of national
boxoffice revenues and redistributes
them to domestically made films.
The casting of some of China’s most
famous film stars, spanning several gener
ations, helps. Many of the most popular
young actors and musicians also serve as
faces of the party. Jackson Yee, who starred
in “The Battle at Lake Changjin”, is one of
China’s hottest celebrities. Originally a
boyband member, he has the sort of an
drogynous appeal the party has, in other
contexts, recently condemned as “abnor
mal”. But he is also a standingcommittee
member of the national student union,
which is controlled by the Communist
Youth League, a branch of the party. A
hashtag promoting Mr Yee’s role in “The
Battle at Lake Changjin” has been viewed
almost 13bn times on Weibo, a microblog.
To clear the way for flagwaving local
fare, China keeps out most American films.
A quota system allows up to 34 Hollywood
movies to be screened in theatres each
year. In 2021 only 19 were permitted. Wors
ening tensions between America and Chi
na, coupled with the pandemic, which has
made China more insular, may explain the
reduction. The authorities often hold up
foreign blockbusters for months to help a
domestic rival sell more tickets.
Films from Marvel Studios, owned by
Disney, have had a particularly rough time.
No Marvel titles were approved in 2021, no
matter how hard they tried to avoid upset
ting censors. Not even “Shangchi and the
Legend of the Ten Rings”, a superhero film
set in China, made it. The party may have
punished Marvel after nationalist trolls
dug up remarks that were critical of China,
made by the film’s Chineseborn star, Simu
Liu. The same happened with Chloé Zhao,
the Beijingborn director of “Eternals”,
whose previous film, “Nomadland”, was
banned as a result.
It is not just Hollywood; flicks from
anywhere foreign are being squeezed out
(see chart). Only 11% of films released in
2021 were imported. Political tensions
have stymied the release of movies from
India, South Korea and Japan.
A boom in genuinely popular patriotic
television shows is also under way. A 23
part series called “Min Ning Town”, chron
icling the party’s povertyalleviation pro
gramme, scored 9.2 out of 10 on Douban,
outranking “The Queen’s Gambit”, a Netflix
series about chess. The “Age of Awakening”,
about the founding of the party, made with
the support of propaganda organs, was an
other of the most popular television shows
in 2021, scoring 9.3 on Douban among al
most 400,000 voters. Many viewers were
surprised by the quality of such “red the
matic” dramas, as the genre is known.
Wherever there is culture, the party is
getting more involved, especially if there is
a chance to win the loyalty of the young. In
November, a few weeks after a Chinese
team won the world championship for
League of Legends, a video game, one of its
members, Ming Kai, joined the party. Offi
cial podcasts, such as a recent series on
party history, now sound as well produced
as their viral American rivals. And the par
ty is getting into larping—“live action
roleplaying”—in which enthusiasts don
costumes and act out scripts in a fantasy
world. People in China spent an estimated
$2.7bn on the fad in 2021. Authorities are
promoting patriotic scripts about the Sino
Japanese war instead of the usualmurder
mysteries. Never has party propaganda
been so frighteningly attractive.n
Silver-screen gold
China
Source:Dengta
800
600
400
200
0
2014 21
Numberoffilms
released
Imported
Domestic
80
60
40
20
0
2014 21
Share of total revenue
from domestic films, %
T
here areseveralreasonswhy“Ai
qing Shenhua”, a new film released
on Christmas Eve in Chinese cinemas,
has surprised movie buffs. One is that
the movie, whose English title is “bfor
Busy”, is a tender portrayal of relation
ships among a group of middleaged
Shanghai urbanites, yet stars Xu Zheng, a
veteran actor more famous for raucous
comedies. Another is that such a film,
produced on a tiny budget and heavy on
dialogue, with not a car chase or gun
battle in sight, has succeeded at the box
office, so far earning 242m yuan ($38m).
The biggest surprise of all is that the
film is shot almost entirely in Shanghai
nese, a language spoken by just 14m
people. It is one of the Wu languages of
eastern China, many of which are mutu
ally comprehensible, with 80m speakers
altogether. But that still makes the film
unintelligible to people outside the
region, necessitating subtitles in Manda
rin, the official national language. This
runs against a national policy promoting
Mandarin and limiting the use of what
China’s government insists on calling
“dialects”, but which many linguists
consider separate languages.
That policy has been implemented
unevenly, and a small number of non
Mandarin films have been made since
the 1990s. In 2016 David Moser, an Amer
ican linguist, wrote in his book, “A Bil
lion Voices: China’s Search for a Com
mon Language”, that authorities “had
never really resolved the longstanding
question” of whether Mandarin should
displace regional dialects. Today, he says,
occasional films do sneak through, but
leaders’actionssuggest “they want the
dialects to die out eventually”.
Such actions include restrictions on
using dialects on primetime television,
as well as enforcement of Mandarinonly
rules in schools. People livestreaming
on social media in Cantonese have had
their accounts temporarily blocked and
been asked to “please speak Mandarin”.
Officials say their proMandarin
policies foster national unity and widen
access to education. Maybe so, but many
people fret that local languages and
cultures may wither as a result. By 2020
81% of China’s population spoke Manda
rin, a rise of 28 percentage points from 20
years before.
Though their use is declining among
young people, Cantonese and Shanghai
nese are what linguists call “prestige
dialects”, spoken in influential regions
and so less vulnerable. Languages spoken
by ethnic minorities, such as Tibetan,
Mongolian and Uyghur, are more at risk.
Many speakers resent Chinese rule.
Efforts to assimilate them, linguistically
and otherwise, are often coercive and
have less to do with improving opportu
nity than with crushing their spirits.
“bfor Busy” has been a rare bright
spot for local languages. Fang Xu, of the
University of California, Berkeley, author
of “Silencing Shanghai: Language and
Identity in Urban China”, says schools
taught many subjects in Shanghainese
into the 1990s. ”I memorised the periodic
table in Shanghai dialect,” she recalls,
but says schools wanting to preserve it
now need permission to teach it as an
extracurricular subject.
Regionalcinema
Speaking in tongues
B EIJING
Afilm in Shanghai dialect is a surprise hit