Chinese artist Ren Hang committed suicide on Feb 24th, at the age of 29
POV BlogPOV 博客
With a huge potential box office rewards and no established domestic studio brands dominating the playing field, the enormous opportunity for creators of animated movies has seen a collective mobilization across the media ecosystem towards the genre.
For some, the catalyst was the enormous success of 2015’s “Monkey King: Hero Returns”, which earned 956 million yuan ($139m) at the box office and shattered the previous record for a full CG animation.
Others, like DreamWorks, saw the market potential years ago. In 2012 the company struck a $350m (2.4bn yuan) joint venture deal with three Chinese investment companies to form a studio on the ground in China, Oriental DreamWorks, which could circumvent the foreign film quota.
The government has played its part, offering grants and incentives for companies to make animation, eager to promote China’s creative evolution and production of soft power products that it can ultimately wield on the world stage. That initiative has included facilitating international coproduction treaties, enabling substantial moviemaking partnerships, like those between China and companies in New Zealand and the UK.
Meanwhile, as China transitions from outsourcing destination to original creator, former service companies are turning to original content creation, like China’s leading visual effects provider, Base FX, and veteran CG studio Original Force, both of whom have major animated features in the works.
Established live action studios are getting in on the act too. In October 2015, Beijing Enlight Media formed ‘Color Room’, an animation and live action division, to invest, incubate IP, and manage productions, while Huayi Brothers has also established an animation arm, Wink, to develop four animation features every year.
Companies with interests across multiple industries are adding animation to their portfolios. Internet behemoth Tencent created film production arm, Tencent Pictures, which is developing and producing a diverse slate of 21 film and TV projects, while in 2015, Alpha, a giant Guangdong toy and clothing conglomerate, announced a 900 million yuan ($141 million) acquisition of original internet comic platform U17.com, with a view to converting the IP into movies.
The ground in China may be fertile, but the climate is uncertain. Fewer tickets are being subsidised than they were in 2015, sales are growing more slowly than expected and the Chinese box office won’t, as many had predicted, become the world’s largest in 2017. Moreover, competition is fierce. The growing number of new Chinese films will compete with each other and a relentless onslaught of offerings from the established global big guns that make it in to China as part of the import quota.
There is no established Chinese animated entertainment brand, no household name animation directors or studios and very few known properties. In most cases, Chinese studios must develop IP from scratch, guessing what will work, or buy the rights to book, game or toy properties with an existing following and try to convert them in to compelling motion pictures. However, good animation writers are hard to come by, with the best talent historically drawn to the relatively better prospects in live action.
Moreover, the tastes of the rapidly morphing audience are as unpredictable as ever. The lazy assumption about unsophisticated masses that eat up Chinese mythology and spectacular visual effects is outdated. Audiences and reviewers are fiercely critical of sub par stories, recently prompting Party mouthpiece People’s Daily to publish an editorial piece slamming ‘vicious and irresponsible’ critics.
The hope is that creators will be emboldened by the successes of ‘alternative’ films like the auteur driven “Big Fish & Begonia”, adult fare like “100,000 Bad Jokes” and Japanese indie efforts like “Your Name”, all of which demonstrate that there is a significant market for edgier content.
The unpredictability may partly explain why Chinese animation studios aren’t placing all their bets on the domestic audience. Whether for their first film release or a later offering, almost all studios say the eventual target is the global market.
Big Fish & Begonia, produced by Biantian Media
Joe Aguilar, CEO at Wink, says that for an animation studio in China to succeed, there are two key considerations. The first is China’s ‘content wealth.’ “Chinese culture is more popular in the global market, and can produce infinite original stories with Chinese elements,” he says. That may be true, but no Chinese film, animated or otherwise, has yet cracked the major US or European markets. One explanation may be a fundamental difference in storytelling sensibility between the East and the West. Many senior studio executives have pointed to a looser Chinese story structure that is inaccessible to the West.
Western tastes might evolve with greater exposure to Chinese content, but that process will take years. In the meantime, Aguilar’s second point – that movies need to “emphasize international ways of expression, which make the movies globally more acceptable”- is the reason almost all studios with serious designs on the global market have established development studios in L.A. and/or installed Hollywood experience in executive positions.
The First Batch
This year will see the first serious runners among the multiple newcomers to the Chinese animated features race.
“Duck Duck Goose”, the first release from Original Force, is the pick of the bunch. Led by a triumvirate boasting decades of experience in both Hollywood and China, the studio has seemingly all the right elements to create something of real quality for its debut feature.
Then there is Light Chaser Animation, the Beijing studio founded by Tudou founder and billionaire, Gary Wang. Wang raised eyebrows by assuming writing and directing duties for the studio’s debut feature in 2015, despite having never previously written or directed an animated film. He reprises the role for this year’s follow up, “Tea Pets”.
Tea Pets, produced by Light Chaser Animation
Guangzhou’s Yi Animation will release its first original movie, “Kung Food”, the feature film adaptation of the studio’s TV series, “Super Bao”, a stereoscopic 3D movie about living pieces of food uniting to prevent bland flavours from conquering the world. Coproduced by 21st Century Fox, the “Kung Food” is the only IP among this year’s contenders to have any existing fan base in China.
Kung Food, produced by Yi Animation
Finally, “Watch The Skies” is the first feature from DeZerlin Media, a creative content boutique that generates IP for animated and live-action features and series, games and print. It adopts a Western-style studio model, creating the IP and managing the property, but outsourcing the animation locally.
It is safe to assume the new crop of Chinese animation films will bring better character performance and production values. Local audience will no longer accept substandard quality. The most compelling questions circulate around story. The risks might suggest studios will err on the side of caution for their debuts. Will we thus see Hollywood films with Chinese elements – like the Kung Fu Panda franchise – or can a distinctly Chinese tone begin to shine through? Will a director be afforded the time and trust to realize a vision, as Tian did for “Monkey King” or Liang Xuan and Zhang Chun did for “Big Fish & Begonias”? This year, we’ll start to have some of those questions answered.
The Chinese VR industry is increasingly making headlines, both for Bloomberg’s much quoted estimate that it will be worth $8.5bn by 2020, and because it has been the first to monetize VR in any meaningful way. Surveys show that Chinese consumers are willing to pay more than $15 per month for good content. The problem, and the opportunity, is that currently, there is very little of it.
Kevin Geiger is here to help. The former Disney CG artist first landed in Beijing in 2008 to produce projects and teach, going on to serve as Disney China’s Vice President and Head of Creative. A little over a year ago he founded the International Animation & Virtual Reality Research Center (iAVRrc), a virtual and augmented reality content development studio operated by China’s leading film school, the Beijing Film Academy (BFA). Between the center, his content production company (Magic Dumpling), a regular LinkedIn presence, AWN.com blog and his own online journal, the Ohioan has become one of the more prominent western voices in Chinese animation and virtual reality.
We joined Geiger to get his take on the domestic industry at the end of 2016.
PIG: In traditional media, China is generally seen to be a step back from the rest of the world. That appears to have changed with VR. Would you agree?
Kevin Geiger: In many areas of VR, China is ahead of the game. In terms of the energy level, China ranks number one. In terms of just the pervasive amount of hardware and software development, number one. On quality of the locally developed hardware and software, I would not say number one. Catching up, but still back a step from the rest of the world. There are far more experience zones in China than there are in the U.S. Even though they may be lower grade, they’re very pervasive. There’s not nearly as much content being developed here as elsewhere for VR, and not nearly of the quality. It feels like every VR content startup in the West is drawing on Pixar, Sony, Disney or Dreamworks for people to jump into the fray. China doesn’t really have that bench depth, and with the investment weariness in content, people are waiting to see who else is doing what before they jump in. And, frankly, there are a lot of restrictions. If you’re developing VR games, you fall into regulatory restrictions where have a one to four month regulatory approval period. If you’re a startup trying to get a game onto the shelf so you can recoup your investment, that can kill you. And of course, the content itself is tempered. Censorship does have a chilling effect on the entire ecosystem of creative development and production, and that’s not necessarily in the service of the business, the industry, or even, ultimately, the culture.
PIG: Why is investment in content lagging behind hardware?
KG: Investors understand that content is the important thing. They know it, but they really don’t have the stomach for it. It’s more secure – but I think a false security – to invest in a widget, a piece of hardware or software, as opposed to an IP. If you don’t get the returns you want and you’ve invested in something physical, you can sell it off and recoup something. With IP, it’s not always the case. I was at an event yesterday where investors were talking about their disenchantment with content, saying, “We’re pulling back from investing in content. We’re going to focus on hardware and hope the content that’s developed uses that hardware.” I’m biased, because I’m a content guy, but I was a little surprised to hear that stated so bluntly. It seemed a regressive approach to me, but I respect their points of view.
PIG: Do you think that attitude is widespread across China’s virtual reality industry?
KG: I hope not. Investors in general run the range from informed to uninformed, and from bold to risk averse. China has enough people in every area of the ecosystem that even if 200 people say they’re not investing in content anymore, there are thousands more who are. I don’t think it’s necessarily epidemic and certainly Alvin Wang (China Regional President, HTC Vive) said he doesn’t see a chilling effect. From his point of view, even though investors are asking more questions, he sees a widespread enthusiasm for the entire chain: hardware, software content distribution.
PIG: Which China-created VR experiences have impressed you?
KG: I was impressed by Noitom’s Project Alice here in Beijing – this mixed reality experience of physically holding a bar stool in my hand, feeling the weight and the shape of it and seeing a digital representation of it in VR. I was very aware that I was in VR, and the CGI rendering was not photoreal, but it didn’t have to be. It was so compelling that, very quickly, the other things in the room that were not mapped to a physical object became dangerous because I would want to sit on something that didn’t turn out to have a physical corollary. When I visited their lab, the enthusiasm of the team really had that buzz that you expect at the best places. It’s a big loft space with a 3D printer for rapid prototyping pieces of hardware on the fly. There’s this middle aged Chinese seamstress on an old Singer sewing machine stitching together plastic and spandex full body suits. Espresso machines every five meters. Just the energy and the enthusiasm of the people working there is encouraging to me.
PIG: With the dearth of truly spectacular experiences or a real business model, the West is arguably in the “trough of disillusionment” when it comes to VR. Can we expect something similar in China?
KG: Friends of mine in Chinese companies, whether they’re developing content or software, have said it was much easier to get money in Summer 2015 than it is has been this Summer (2016). The people who are still investing have more questions than they used to, whereas before they were just throwing money at you. The silver lining is that it will separate the serious from the non-serious and have everybody take a breath and figure out, okay, what is the business model? Everybody with their heads on fire, as they were a year ago, doesn’t necessarily mean that something’s being accomplished. If everybody just starts developing hardware, software or content, without any real way to distribute it, with no pipeline, then it’s all just a lot of pomp and circumstance for nothing.
Investors need to really think about if they’re in it for the long term or not. Especially in China, many investors are very unrealistic in terms of the simple mathematics of how long it takes to get a return. Take the time of development, production, post and the approval process time – which in China is one month to a half year – then add the distribution, and only then is your first revenue trickling back. You’re talking about a year or two at least before you can start to see any kind of revenue, let alone profit. So if you’re not in it for that, don’t waste your time or the time of the people who you’re giving money to. A VR startup with investors that want a quick turnaround on profit is always required to undercut the more innovative things it’s trying to do and come out with a dumbed-down, scaled-down version, just to try to make a quick buck.
If investors do have a stomach for it, I think there’s a payoff. I see a future and that’s why I’m involved, but it’s not a quick buck kind of situation. It’s going to be about putting money in, whether that’s an investor, or a producer like myself deferring fees on a project that I think will advance something. I think that’s really what’s required to get the seriousness that you need for true progress.
PIG: What does the International Animation and Virtual Reality Research Center do?
KG: We’re squarely focused on content, across virtual, augmented and mixed reality. We’re trying to demonstrate that it’s possible to create Chinese content in China by Chinese that follows the prescriptions of what’s permissible, but can also still be engaging. The Deans of the school gave me a pretty wide berth, but the two guidelines are: one, everything we do has to represent Chinese culture and represent it in a favorable way, and two, that there should be some educational component. That might sound like a recipe for disaster, where you’re going to end up with this didactic or preachy bit of content, right? That’s what we’re trying not to do. We’re trying to have the medicine taste good so that you don’t notice that you’re being taught something.
Ang Lee’s “Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk” is the first feature film ever to be shot at 120 frames per second, overtaking second-placed The Hobbit (48 fps), which had doubled the industry standard 24 fps. Lee describes the combo of 3D, 4K HD and 120 fps as “The Whole Shebang”.
China has embraced the film, a China-US-UK coproduction, more than any other market, bringing the greatest box office returns, partly due to Lee’s popularity and partly because of a widespread penchant for new technology. Two of the six theatres worldwide capable of projecting the film in all its glory were in China. Hollywood executives and US audiences meanwhile, were largely unmoved.
Critical reaction to the 120 fps has been mixed. Some have called it “too real” or a distraction. Others have pointed out that the ‘hyper-realism’ it creates exposes the artifice of the performance. Variety’s Brent Lang delivered a balanced critique, concluding, “[the film] represents both a massive step forward for moviemaking and a painful reminder that innovation comes at a price. It is a beautiful mess.”
At the ICEVE conference at the Beijing Film Academy this month, the movie’s 3D Stereographer & Stereo Supervisor, Demetri Portelli proclaimed on stage, “I want to document this film in history as an important event.” We caught up with him to find out why.
120 fps “the ultimate solution”
When Ang Lee was looking for an “independent spirit” to help him realise his ambitious new project for under $50m with just 49 days shoot, he came looking for Portelli and digital engineer partner, Ben Gervais. Following $150m-plus budget 3D projects with Martin Scorsese’s Hugo, and 47 Ronin, the duo had confounded critics by proving that 3D could be efficient and affordable, delivering the 3D and VFX for Jean Paul Jeunet’s The Young and Prodigious T.S Spivet for under $2m in an overall project that cost less than $30m.
Demetri Portelli, 3D Stereographer & Stereo Supervisor of Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk at the ICEVE conference, Beijing
After Life of Pi, Lee was looking for a crisper image. Working at 24fps, he encountered a problem with motion and strobing when editing close-ups. “It was an ability to ‘lock in’ your eyes and look at somebody”, says Portelli. “He wanted to go to a high frame rate so that when you look at the face, you can lock in and hold your gaze on an actor’s eyes and stay there. That’s really important in communicating with the audience and having a true experience.”
Lee also wanted to separate himself from the classic film aesthetic. “Ang said, “I think you guys were all wrong on Hugo. You got the Alexa and tried to make a digital film look like an old movie. What’s wrong with taking a digital camera and trying to find new aesthetics that are intrinsic to digital cinema? We need artists to explore.”
The initial thinking was to shoot at differing frame rates – 24, 48, 60, 120 – which would have required commitment to decisions in principal photography. Shooting everything at 120 would mean capturing substantially more data – around 7.5 to 10 terabytes a day, roughly 40 times that of a normal 2D film – but would provide high quality images for every shot and ultimate flexibility in post.
In Lee’s office, in a custom-built postproduction unit cooled with powerful air conditioning, Lee exercised that freedom, adjusting the frame rate, depth and resolution to complement and enhance the action. “There are shots at 24 and 60 where he drops the aesthetic down to 2K to give it the old movie feeling,” says Portelli. “You can ramp scenes from 18 fps to 30 to 48. Maybe you’re in 2D but then you get into a close-up, and you go to 3D-120.”
The big close up shows the 120fps-4K technology best. The human face gives all the information
Ultimately, Portelli believes shooting at 120 fps makes every shot better, even if the frame rate is eventually dropped, “24 is better if you shoot 120 and deliver 24. The reason is you can control the shutter in postproduction. The hard thing for us in 3D was strobing and judder at 24. 120 is so smooth because you have all those frames, so nothing hurts.”
He continues, “By gathering more information, you’re delivering a better movie for everybody all the way down the line, including 2D, 3D, 24, 60, because you’re controlling the sequence of the frames, and you’re controlling clarity vs. blur. You’re controlling a cinematic look vs. a hyper real look.” That flexibility ultimately enables delivery in various different formats to suit any screen.
On set, Lee and Portelli would qualify each shot using a one-to-five “gear system” shorthand. For what Lee saw as “fantasy” characters like Billy’s love interest, they would go to 2D, a “low gear”. The fifth gear was reserved for the big half-time show and climactic battle scene. “For Ang”, says Portelli, “the whole shebang meant realism.”
Early on, the team had thought 120 fps shooting would best lend itself to action scenes due to its strength in capturing motion, but the real revelation was in the close-ups. “The beauty of 120 is that it shows everything, and it shows more. You start to understand the beauty that’s there in a simple close-up. It shows muscles, it sees through the skin. You can count the hairs in eyebrows and see the little expressions in someone’s eyes.”
“But,” he warns, “You have to be careful. It’s a very powerful tool. You can make somebody look very interesting but you can also make someone look a little bit ugly.”
He continues, “It reveals the artifice of filmmaking. The performance and the direction has to change, because if you see the actor thinking about his lines and looking down at his marks, he gives himself away.”
Portelli says naturalistic subjects are best. “We’re trying to show the world in a different light. Ang wanted to be bold, a project that put us in a natural environment in Morocco… and have you look at those little details in the sand and the dust.”
“People call it hyperrealism, but Billy Lynn is really just closer to just being a realistic project. I think 120 shows the world much closer to how we see it in daily life.”
Portelli calls Billy Lynn “the brightest film you’ve ever seen.” The initial idea was to project at a standard brightness of 14 foot-lamberts, “But before we had calibrated [the projectors], Ang looked at full brightness (28 foot-lamberts) and said, “My god, that’s amazing! He was trying to make a bold statement. We’re trying to give you an experience.”
Portelli describes it as a “sensory overload.” In fact, he says, “There are people who have gone to the film who have had a bit of anxiety because they’re not used to being put in that position as the viewer.”
There is room for improvement in the next 120 fps outing. The first challenge is to create smaller cameras than the hulking F65. In terms of postproduction, Portelli says, “I think we can do more variations and soften the DI a bit and be a little less heavy handed.” And of course, for more people to enjoy the experience, many more theatres will need to be capable of screening the full frame rate.
Lee’s next film, ‘Thrilla in Manila’ will be shot at 120 fps. “Ang does not want to work at lower than 120fps”, says Portelli. Lee hopes this will be the beginning of a movement. Whereas James Cameron has called 120fps a storytelling tool, Lee is calling it a format. “It’s not just a tool, this is a new way to see, so let’s start looking and let’s start talking about that. [Ang] is just beginning to discover a lot of new things. You will see a lot of change in his next film. Billy Lynn is just the beginning of what can you do with this.”
2016 was a great year for PIG China. We were directly involved in films which garnered over a dozen major awards at festivals worldwide!
The 2015 Dove spot “Chose Beautiful” we locally produced won a Grand Clio at Clio Awards. The spot also won silver and bronze Cannes Lions, and a gold at ROI.
The widely spread and discussed SK-II “Leftover Women” not only made its way to international news headlines, but also garnered Glass, Gold, Silver and Bronze Cannes Lions; a Silver at London International Awards; a Bronze at ROI; and landed Floyd Russ a Silver Young Director Awards in Cannes.
Then our 2 BMW spot landed awards at ROI: BMW7 Visionary Lights for the 7 Series with a Gold Award, and BMW M Series with Silver and Bronze Awards.
BMW 7 Visionary Lights
BMW M Series
And finally, P.I.G. director Nelson Cabrera finished the year with over 20 major international awards for his work on the Saltwater Brewery campaign, including 2 Golds, a silver and a Bronze Cannes Lions; a Gold and 2 Silver Clios; D&AD Impact White Pencil; LIA awards, etc…
INSERT SALTWATER BREWERY FILM (I will ask Nelson for it)
Thank you all for supporting PIG China in 2016, and here’s hoping 2017 will be an even better year!
Happy New Year!
Can a Chinese hero save Hollywood from cultural irrelevance?
The deluge of Hollywood superhero movies shows no signs of abating, with an estimated 63 comic book adaptations set to hit the big screen by 2020.
A sizeable chunk of the global takings come from China, the world’s second and soon–to-be largest film market. However, Hollywood’s future success in the Middle Kingdom is far from assured. With competition from an improving domestic industry and the massive new audiences outside top tier cities less responsive to English-dialogue driven fare, it is predicted that US films will lose market share as the box office grows.
As Hollywood studios increase their China presence, they are recognizing the need for more localized content. Earlier this year, the Russo brothers, directors of the Captain America franchise, announced they were teaming up with Chinese partners to form development and production studios in LA and Beijing, before unveiling plans for a $230m trilogy of Mandarin superhero movies starring an original Chinese hero.
The Russos are not the first to see the potential in a Chinese hero. In 2011, former Marvel president Stan Lee co-launched Magic Storm Entertainment with a view to producing superhero movies for Asian markets. The first announced project was an English-language film titled “The Annihilator”, about a Chinese expatriate named Ming, “who must choose between remaining in prison or enlist in a secret U.S. super soldier program”. Slated to star Wang Leehom, the project appears to have stalled in the early stages.
The same fate appears to have befallen his latest project, Realm of the Tiger, this time a Mandarin language co-production with different partners featuring a heroine supposedly set to be played by Li Bingbing.
Lee has actually been devising Chinese characters for decades, albeit less heroic ones. In 1965 he co-created The Mandarin, a droopy-mustached throwback to the ‘Yellow Peril’ characters of the 1920s and 30s. Back then a xenophobic fear of the perceived threat from the swarming masses in the east saw Chinese characters presented as either primitive peasants or evil masterminds like Fu Manchu or Ming the Merciless.
Spot the difference: ‘Yellow peril’ inspired super-villains Fu Manchu, Yellow Claw, Ming the Merciless and The Mandarin. Marvel preceded The Mandarin with Yellow Claw in 1956 and actually bought the rights to Fu Manchu in 1973.
In fairness to Lee, The Mandarin was conceived during the height of the Cold War amid fears of spreading communism and nuclear war. Unsurprisingly when Marvel Studios co-produced Iron Man 3 with DMG Beijing, with an eye on reaping huge rewards from the China market, they chose not to present The Mandarin as an evil Chinese dictator with ambitions of world domination. The arch-villain was instead revealed to be a bumbling junkie actor used as a front for Aldrich Killian’s terrorist organization, provoking the ire of nerds everywhere.
Another Lee co-creation, Chen Lu, China’s leading nuclear physicist who transforms himself into a Radioactive Man, a walking blob of nuclear waste recruited to help his government stop Thor blocking the spread of communism into India.
Everybody Was Kung Fu Whitewashing
American comic creators have been inventing Chinese characters for almost 80 years. Despite the prevailing Yellow Peril mindset, some more positive fictional characters began to emerge in the late ‘30s, like the Green Hornet’s sidekick Kato, a character that probably inspired DC’s Wing, a Chinese immigrant working as the driver and sidekick for a wealthy publisher and caped crusader in New York.
The Green Hornet (Van Williams) and Bruce Lee as his sidekick Kato on The Green Hornet TV show (1966-67). The Green Hornet started life as a radio show in the 1930s
DC’s Wing, sidekick to the Crimson Avenger (far right). Following his dignified early appearances in 1938, Wing’s design later descended into a racist stereotype typical of the era.
Chinese portrayals further improved after the US joined World War II and became formal allies with China, ushering in, in 1944 Blazing Comics’ short-lived series starring the Green Turtle, widely believed to be the first Chinese comic book hero, who fights in China alongside local troops against the Japanese.
Attitudes were still far from enlightened. American-Chinese artist Chu Hing supposedly intended to create a Chinese hero but was blocked by publishers who felt an Asian character wouldn’t resonate with a US readership. Chu cunningly kept the Turtle’s ethnicity ambiguous by drawing his eyes obscured and using a surreal shadow of a turtle to represent his hero’s face.
Whitewashing for a US audience endured 30 years later, when white actor David Carradine was cast as the lead in the Kung Fu TV series, in which a half Chinese Shaolin monk fights his way through the American Old West.
David Carradine in the Kung Fu TV series (1972-75). Carradine played Kwai Chang Caine, a Shaolin monk who travels through the American Old West armed with his spiritual training and his skill in martial arts, in search of his half-brother.
Negative though that may appear, the show inspired a martial arts craze in America in the 1970s, leading to more admirable Chinese comic book heroes including ‘The Master of Kung Fu’, Shang Chi. If any US-created Chinese hero is fit for export to modern China it might be Shang. In 2005 he was one of ten characters included in a proposed Marvel Studios slate and, though he never got his movie, there are rumors he may soon appear in the Netflix Iron Fist series, supposedly played by an Asian male that probably isn’t John Cho.
It’s unknown whether a Chinese face would attract cinemagoers in China. Would say, a Chinese Superman, fare better than the lukewarm reception for Man of Steel or Batman Vs. Superman. That dream may be closer than we think, after DC recently bestowed the ailing caped crusader’s powers onto Shanghai teen Kenan Kong as part of their Rebirth event.
Kenan Kong is co-created and co-written by Asian-American artist Gene Yang Luen. In 2014, Yang also revived The Green Turtle, telling his origin story in “The Shadow Hero”. Image courtesy of John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation.
One US created hero that has remained Chinese to the core is Captain China, a Mandarin language series started in 2012 by American-Chinese duo Jim Lai and Chi Wang. Their Cap is a product of Mao Zedong initiative to create a Chinese superhero during the Great Leap Forward, revived after 50 years to demonstrate China’s economic power. Though amusing clashes between Cap’s Maoist anti-American ideology and China’s modern capitalist values ensue, surely no sane studio with designs on China would touch such sensitive subject matter.
Jim Lai and Chi Wang’s Captain China. Despite some confusion among netizens, he is not the star of the Russo brothers’ forthcoming movies.
Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a 16th century Chinese deity?
With 5000 years of history and mythology, it is often said that China already has the raw materials for great movie storytelling. While that forgets the all-important ‘telling’ part, it’s true that filmmakers frequently turn to the perceived box office security of fantasy, dipping into the archives for figures that can be repurposed as quasi-superheroes. League of Gods recently did just this, with the spirits and immortals of 16th century myth Fengshen Yanyi revamped amid spectacular blockbuster effects.
US comic creators were riffing on Chinese mythology back in 2004 with Marvel’s Eight Immortals based on the legend of the same name. DC followed in 2006 with the Great Ten, based on the 14th century tale Ten Brothers, about a government-backed posse with excellent names like Accomplished Perfect Physician, Immortal Man-in-Darkness and Mother of Champions.
Predicting what will work among China’s diverse masses is anyone’s guess. There is no tried and tested formula, though a glance at the most successful movies suggests that Chinese audiences favour escapism, fantasy and humor over the ever darker and more depressing stories told in US hero shows. So far, 2015’s super-silly Jianbing Man is China’s closest successful equivalent to a caped crusader.
If the heroes of the past can teach us anything, it’s that their stories reflect the fears of the society in which they are created. The diverse concerns of China’s cinemagoers are different to those in the US, and transplanting an American genre onto another culture is more complex than simply casting a Mandarin speaking Chinese actor. If Hollywood must keep pushing superheroes, they face an unknown road ahead. Perhaps the most compelling solution is to leave the spandex at home, and focus on learning the true identity of the Chinese audience.