It is shaping up to be a critical year for Asian cinema as it struggles to fulfill recent expectations and to come to grips with intense competition.
Asian movie making might have won international recognition in recent years as a new force in the global movie business, but leading national film industries in the region such as China and South Korea are facing a tough 12 months as they try to ensure the Asian cinema wave does not peter out.
This has coincided with emergence the new generation of filmmakers who are now making their mark on Asian cinema with films portraying the often grim reality of modern urban life.
PHOTO: AGENCIES
"There are no longer the big social statements," said Jacob Wong from the Hong Kong Film Festival. "The new generation of movie makers are more self-absorbed with many of the films made by directors who are not much older than the target audience."
Signs that some Asian filmmakers have been pulling back from politics and history and delving more into the often personal stresses unleashed by urban living have been on display from the crop of Asian films screened at this year's Berlin Film Festival.
This includes South Korean director Hong Sangsoo's Night and Day (Bam gua Nat) where the main character admits he is a quest to find himself or young Taiwanese director Zero Chou's (周美玲) Drifting Flowers (飄浪青春). The film is about three women living in different parts of Taiwan who are all seeking their true identity.
"There a lot of stories to be told about Taiwan, which people even in mainland China don't know about," said Taiwanese director Chang Tso-chi (張作驥) whose film Soul of a Demon (蝴蝶) which touches on a young man exploring his past, was also shown at this year's Berlinale.
On the face of it, Asian cinema has had a remarkably successful year winning top prizes at each of the world's major film festivals - in Cannes, Berlin and Venice.
But behind the scenes, the film industry in many Asian countries is under pressure not the least because of the global credit crunch and the current uncertain world economic climate, which has resulted producers becoming more worried about budgets and the box office.
PHOTO: AGENCIES
This in turn has raised the prospects of many film producers becoming conservative about the movie scripts they are prepared to back just when international film critics would like Asian cinema to become more daring.
The result could be that instead of more experimental filmmaking, Asian cinema could retreat to the relative safety of romantic comedies and horror movies.
This is particularly the case with Korea, which in recent years has helped to spearhead the so-called new wave in Asian cinema.
But a dozen years after South Korea emerged as a new filmmaking nation, some industry analysts say that the country risks tempting the same fate as Hong Kong, which has been unable to shake off the downturn that hit the industry a decade ago.
Moreover some industry analysts say Korea could soon find itself eclipsed in the coming years by other rivals, including Thailand or Taiwan, which are now being eyed off as potentially the next new thing in Asian cinema.
The problems facing Korea's film business have been compounded by a retreat in Japanese buying interest in the country's movies and Seoul's decision - under US pressure - to cut the local screen quota two years ago.
Apart from badly shaking the industry, the quota decision plunged filmmakers into almost a state of war with the government with the nation's critics already complaining about the films produced.
At the same time, China is still battling to come up with the magic movie formula to produce films that meets its ambitions to become a global movie powerhouse and which strike a chord with western, Asian and national Chinese audiences alike.
Tuya's Wedding (圖雅的婚禮) from Chinese director Wang Quan'an (王全安) about a Mongolian shepherd family, which took home the Berlin's Film Festival coveted Golden Bear last year flopped badly at the box office in China.
While the sheer size of the Chinese market has made co-productions with China almost a necessary part of filmmaking for many Asian countries, looming large over China's film sector is censorship which appears to become even more rigorous recently.
This includes the censors' demands for cuts to Taiwanese-born director Ang Lee's (李安) Lust, Caution (色,戒), which won the top prize at last year's Venice Film Festival, and a ban on Chinese director Li Yu's (李玉) Lost in Beijing (蘋果), which premiered a year ago in Berlin.
What is more, Beijing's stance on censorship appears to be the one issue hindering any quick moves to draw the three key Chinese language filmmaking worlds - Taiwan, Hong Kong and China.
"In the future Hong Kong cinema will gradually form part of Chinese filmmaking," said acclaimed Hong Kong director Johnnie To (杜琪峰) whose film Sparrow (文雀) is in the running for top honors at this year's Berlinale.
"But as Hong Kong becomes more part of Chinese cinema, I hope that Hong Kong filmmakers will continue to make films that are integral to the local culture," he said with Hong Kong still having the advantage of escaping the heavy hand of Beijing's censors.
March 10 to March 16 Although it failed to become popular, March of the Black Cats (烏貓進行曲) was the first Taiwanese record to have “pop song” printed on the label. Released in March 1929 under Eagle Records, a subsidiary of the Japanese-owned Columbia Records, the Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese) lyrics followed the traditional seven characters per verse of Taiwanese opera, but the instrumentation was Western, performed by Eagle’s in-house orchestra. The singer was entertainer Chiu-chan (秋蟾). In fact, a cover of a Xiamen folk song by Chiu-chan released around the same time, Plum Widow Missing Her Husband (雪梅思君), enjoyed more
Last week Elbridge Colby, US President Donald Trump’s nominee for under secretary of defense for policy, a key advisory position, said in his Senate confirmation hearing that Taiwan defense spending should be 10 percent of GDP “at least something in that ballpark, really focused on their defense.” He added: “So we need to properly incentivize them.” Much commentary focused on the 10 percent figure, and rightly so. Colby is not wrong in one respect — Taiwan does need to spend more. But the steady escalation in the proportion of GDP from 3 percent to 5 percent to 10 percent that advocates
From insomniacs to party-goers, doting couples, tired paramedics and Johannesburg’s golden youth, The Pantry, a petrol station doubling as a gourmet deli, has become unmissable on the nightlife scene of South Africa’s biggest city. Open 24 hours a day, the establishment which opened three years ago is a haven for revelers looking for a midnight snack to sober up after the bars and nightclubs close at 2am or 5am. “Believe me, we see it all here,” sighs a cashier. Before the curtains open on Johannesburg’s infamous party scene, the evening gets off to a gentle start. On a Friday at around 6pm,
A series of dramatic news items dropped last month that shed light on Chinese Communist Party (CCP) attitudes towards three candidates for last year’s presidential election: Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) founder Ko Wen-je (柯文哲), Terry Gou (郭台銘), founder of Hon Hai Precision Industry Co (鴻海精密), also known as Foxconn Technology Group (富士康科技集團), and New Taipei City Mayor Hou You-yi (侯友宜) of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT). It also revealed deep blue support for Ko and Gou from inside the KMT, how they interacted with the CCP and alleged election interference involving NT$100 million (US$3.05 million) or more raised by the