e all enjoy Hollywood’s products, but very few of us understand how films are made. Not just the behind-the-scenes movie magic, but the politics of studios, the financing of multi-million-dollar productions, and the complexities of international distribution. I suspect it is one of those sausage versus sausage-making things; we’re happy to enjoy the product, but please, do spare me the production details.
I mostly agreed with that sentiment until I read Erich Schwartzel’s book “Red Carpet: Hollywood, China, and the Global Battle for Cultural Supremacy.” Schwartzel avoids the now worn-thin approach to considering China’s rise, choosing instead to look at the subject through the lens of Hollywood. Picking up Schwartzel’s book at Kramerbooks in Dupont Circle, I was intrigued, but half-expected (through no fault of his own, merely my jadedness on having read variations of the same theme on China) a standard look at the subject. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised and utterly engrossed.
“Red Carpet” is one of the rare books that I truly could not put down. It took something about which I was vaguely aware—the influence of China’s market on Hollywood—and brought it to life in a way that was complex and thought provoking. The book is interesting on multiple levels. It not only gives a behind-the-curtain look at contemporary movie making but also examines how China and its ruling Chinese Communist Party get involved in the process – and what that involvement means for film studios and strategic competition.
If you’ve been to a movie recently, pre- or post-COVID-19, you’ve surely seen evidence of the Party’s influence. In many cases they are gratuitous, ham-fisted attempts at pandering to the Chinese market—the random placement of an exceedingly attractive Chinese actress, a famous Hollywood actor using a Chinese phone (the shot of which lingers a touch too long), or narratives that go out of their way to avoid offending Chinese values or sensibilities.
“Red Carpet” explores the nexus of Hollywood and China. On one hand, Hollywood has exerted great effort to gain a foothold in China. On the other hand, Beijing has sought to learn the lessons of Hollywood and use that to develop its own soft power. Through the book – divided into three parts – Schwartzel tells the story of China’s evolution in film. China grew from importing very few Western movies to shaping what is produced in Hollywood due to its burgeoning market size to, finally, seeking to making its own stories for its own population and shape perspectives the world over through “soft power”.
Schwartzel weaves a complex tale. It’s more than film studios simply deciding to avoid using Chinese villains or destroying Hong Kong in a climactic scene. Of course, those aspects exist and you’re unlikely to ever see either of those happen again. Indeed, Hollywood appears to be in the clutches of China-induced “anticipatory censorship,” well before the CCP says or does anything.
Schwartzel charts how the CCP sought to aggressively control what Chinese citizens saw, but also sought to limit how it was portrayed internationally. Few will remember the controversy around Richard Gere and the Dalai Lama, or films about Tibet involving Brad Pitt—but these were perhaps the opening salvoes of the cultural aspect of strategic competition with China. As studios sought access to the Chinese market, they began to court the CCP very aggressively and this meant avoiding sensitive topics. As Schwartzel shows, this is not without precedent, even in the run up to the Second World War with Germany.
As Chinese consumers demanded more Western goods and entertainment products, Hollywood was all too happy to meet that demand. However, Hollywood could only do so on the Party’s terms. The CCP levied stringent restrictions – Hollywood studios would have to partner with a local studio, and only so many films could enter China’s market each year. Disney was particularly aggressive in seeking a foothold in the mammoth Chinese market, pursuing not just an entertainment park, but a television channel and “Disney English” schools. The latter were designed to provide much in-demand English language education, brought to you by Mickey, Minnie, Buzz, Woody. This is truly bizarre (if sensible business), as if Ikea provided Swedish lessons in classrooms you had to assemble yourself.
China partnered with American film studios and movie theaters as it sought to gain expertise and know-how, as well as to build up the local market—a vivid example of knowledge-transfer, after which the relationships were no longer needed. Yet China continued to struggle to meet domestic demand, due to a tension between the CCP’s propaganda interests and the need to provide compelling entertainment. “Kung Fu Panda,” of all things, showed Beijing that a China-centric story could be both entertaining and culturally respectful. Yet it wasn’t made in China.
“Red Carpet” intermingles the politics of doing business with China and the business of politics in the country. It is a truly fascinating story weaving in the rise of the BATs (Baidu, Alibaba, and Tencent), the centralization of power under General Secretary Xi Jinping, and Beijing’s efforts to reshape the international arena. The newly wealthy BATs sought to acquire more and more assets; but they have been reined in by the Party which seeks to guide their efforts for the benefit of the Party and China’s place in the world.
Schwartzel charts the halting efforts of Hollywood to get China right. The aforementioned product placement and shoehorning of an actress into the story was insufficient to meet the Chinese market. For a time, Chinese consumers were content to watch Western movies, but that too was insufficient as Chinese filmmakers asked why they couldn’t just make their own movies and their own stories. “Wolf Warrior 2”, a Chinese take on an over-the-top action film remains one of the highest grossing Chinese-made movies. In it, the action hero takes down the “bad guy” an overacting Frank Grillo known as “Big Daddy,” saving the day when the Americans couldn’t or wouldn’t.
Here a newly emboldened China seeks to express its own confidence, showing that there could be Chinese heroes, not just Western imports. Like other industries in China, there is increasing emphasis on Chinese-led and Chinese-produced films designed for Chinese audiences. It also shows China’s attempt at reasserting itself on the international stage and spreading a pro-Beijing narrative. Schwartzel discusses China’s export of its soft power to Africa and through the One Belt, One Road initiative, though these efforts are achieving only uneven success.
“Red Carpet” touches on some of the contentious aspects of the nexus of Hollywood and Beijing but doesn’t fully explore these issues. The anticipatory censorship, the moral costs of doing business with a regime that is engaged in the persecution of Hong Kong and Uyghurs, the technology and wealth transfer, and the balance of free speech and business interests are all noted. Yet Schwartzel steers clear of any deep substantive exploration, instead illuminating the challenges in the context of the broader relationship. The viability of Hollywood’s accommodation for China’s market in the long-term remains uncertain, especially in the wake of Xi Jinping’s drive for Chinese autarky and. It will also be challenged by increased American awareness of both Beijing’s efforts and the dynamics of strategic competition. There are no easy answers to these issues, but a deeper exploration would have been welcomed.
China’s relationship with the West is exceedingly complex and interwoven on many levels, but it is refreshing to see these interconnections through a new lens. Here Schwartzel’s book succeeds brilliantly. It is, of course, a very enjoyable read, but it is more than that. It takes a truly fascinating look at how strategic competition is playing out in an under recognized arena, and it is these arenas that will have as significant an impact as the ones to which we pay the most attention.
Now, if you’d be so kind, please pass the 爆米花.
a global affairs media network
Hollywood, China, and the Nexus of Geopolitics and Entertainment
Photo by Denise Jans via Unsplash.
April 2, 2022
For years, Hollywood has seen China as a critical growth market while China has been motivated to learn the lessons of Hollywood to develop its soft power. Joshua Huminski reviews Erich Schwartzel's latest book, "Red Carpet," which explores this nexus point of geopolitics and entertainment.
W
e all enjoy Hollywood’s products, but very few of us understand how films are made. Not just the behind-the-scenes movie magic, but the politics of studios, the financing of multi-million-dollar productions, and the complexities of international distribution. I suspect it is one of those sausage versus sausage-making things; we’re happy to enjoy the product, but please, do spare me the production details.
I mostly agreed with that sentiment until I read Erich Schwartzel’s book “Red Carpet: Hollywood, China, and the Global Battle for Cultural Supremacy.” Schwartzel avoids the now worn-thin approach to considering China’s rise, choosing instead to look at the subject through the lens of Hollywood. Picking up Schwartzel’s book at Kramerbooks in Dupont Circle, I was intrigued, but half-expected (through no fault of his own, merely my jadedness on having read variations of the same theme on China) a standard look at the subject. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised and utterly engrossed.
“Red Carpet” is one of the rare books that I truly could not put down. It took something about which I was vaguely aware—the influence of China’s market on Hollywood—and brought it to life in a way that was complex and thought provoking. The book is interesting on multiple levels. It not only gives a behind-the-curtain look at contemporary movie making but also examines how China and its ruling Chinese Communist Party get involved in the process – and what that involvement means for film studios and strategic competition.
If you’ve been to a movie recently, pre- or post-COVID-19, you’ve surely seen evidence of the Party’s influence. In many cases they are gratuitous, ham-fisted attempts at pandering to the Chinese market—the random placement of an exceedingly attractive Chinese actress, a famous Hollywood actor using a Chinese phone (the shot of which lingers a touch too long), or narratives that go out of their way to avoid offending Chinese values or sensibilities.
“Red Carpet” explores the nexus of Hollywood and China. On one hand, Hollywood has exerted great effort to gain a foothold in China. On the other hand, Beijing has sought to learn the lessons of Hollywood and use that to develop its own soft power. Through the book – divided into three parts – Schwartzel tells the story of China’s evolution in film. China grew from importing very few Western movies to shaping what is produced in Hollywood due to its burgeoning market size to, finally, seeking to making its own stories for its own population and shape perspectives the world over through “soft power”.
Schwartzel weaves a complex tale. It’s more than film studios simply deciding to avoid using Chinese villains or destroying Hong Kong in a climactic scene. Of course, those aspects exist and you’re unlikely to ever see either of those happen again. Indeed, Hollywood appears to be in the clutches of China-induced “anticipatory censorship,” well before the CCP says or does anything.
Schwartzel charts how the CCP sought to aggressively control what Chinese citizens saw, but also sought to limit how it was portrayed internationally. Few will remember the controversy around Richard Gere and the Dalai Lama, or films about Tibet involving Brad Pitt—but these were perhaps the opening salvoes of the cultural aspect of strategic competition with China. As studios sought access to the Chinese market, they began to court the CCP very aggressively and this meant avoiding sensitive topics. As Schwartzel shows, this is not without precedent, even in the run up to the Second World War with Germany.
As Chinese consumers demanded more Western goods and entertainment products, Hollywood was all too happy to meet that demand. However, Hollywood could only do so on the Party’s terms. The CCP levied stringent restrictions – Hollywood studios would have to partner with a local studio, and only so many films could enter China’s market each year. Disney was particularly aggressive in seeking a foothold in the mammoth Chinese market, pursuing not just an entertainment park, but a television channel and “Disney English” schools. The latter were designed to provide much in-demand English language education, brought to you by Mickey, Minnie, Buzz, Woody. This is truly bizarre (if sensible business), as if Ikea provided Swedish lessons in classrooms you had to assemble yourself.
China partnered with American film studios and movie theaters as it sought to gain expertise and know-how, as well as to build up the local market—a vivid example of knowledge-transfer, after which the relationships were no longer needed. Yet China continued to struggle to meet domestic demand, due to a tension between the CCP’s propaganda interests and the need to provide compelling entertainment. “Kung Fu Panda,” of all things, showed Beijing that a China-centric story could be both entertaining and culturally respectful. Yet it wasn’t made in China.
“Red Carpet” intermingles the politics of doing business with China and the business of politics in the country. It is a truly fascinating story weaving in the rise of the BATs (Baidu, Alibaba, and Tencent), the centralization of power under General Secretary Xi Jinping, and Beijing’s efforts to reshape the international arena. The newly wealthy BATs sought to acquire more and more assets; but they have been reined in by the Party which seeks to guide their efforts for the benefit of the Party and China’s place in the world.
Schwartzel charts the halting efforts of Hollywood to get China right. The aforementioned product placement and shoehorning of an actress into the story was insufficient to meet the Chinese market. For a time, Chinese consumers were content to watch Western movies, but that too was insufficient as Chinese filmmakers asked why they couldn’t just make their own movies and their own stories. “Wolf Warrior 2”, a Chinese take on an over-the-top action film remains one of the highest grossing Chinese-made movies. In it, the action hero takes down the “bad guy” an overacting Frank Grillo known as “Big Daddy,” saving the day when the Americans couldn’t or wouldn’t.
Here a newly emboldened China seeks to express its own confidence, showing that there could be Chinese heroes, not just Western imports. Like other industries in China, there is increasing emphasis on Chinese-led and Chinese-produced films designed for Chinese audiences. It also shows China’s attempt at reasserting itself on the international stage and spreading a pro-Beijing narrative. Schwartzel discusses China’s export of its soft power to Africa and through the One Belt, One Road initiative, though these efforts are achieving only uneven success.
“Red Carpet” touches on some of the contentious aspects of the nexus of Hollywood and Beijing but doesn’t fully explore these issues. The anticipatory censorship, the moral costs of doing business with a regime that is engaged in the persecution of Hong Kong and Uyghurs, the technology and wealth transfer, and the balance of free speech and business interests are all noted. Yet Schwartzel steers clear of any deep substantive exploration, instead illuminating the challenges in the context of the broader relationship. The viability of Hollywood’s accommodation for China’s market in the long-term remains uncertain, especially in the wake of Xi Jinping’s drive for Chinese autarky and. It will also be challenged by increased American awareness of both Beijing’s efforts and the dynamics of strategic competition. There are no easy answers to these issues, but a deeper exploration would have been welcomed.
China’s relationship with the West is exceedingly complex and interwoven on many levels, but it is refreshing to see these interconnections through a new lens. Here Schwartzel’s book succeeds brilliantly. It is, of course, a very enjoyable read, but it is more than that. It takes a truly fascinating look at how strategic competition is playing out in an under recognized arena, and it is these arenas that will have as significant an impact as the ones to which we pay the most attention.
Now, if you’d be so kind, please pass the 爆米花.
