#38: How Chinese FILM FACTORY is Rivalling Hollywood!
In 2017, a homegrown action movie, Wolf Warrior 2, raked in about $870 million at Chinese cinemas - more money in one country than James Cameron’s Avatar made in the US!
China’s film industry has exploded from obscurity to a box-office behemoth.
In 2017, a homegrown action movie, Wolf Warrior 2, raked in about $870 million at Chinese cinemas - more money in one country than James Cameron’s Avatar made in the US.
By 2020, China briefly surpassed North America as the world’s largest film market, thanks to aggressive COVID-era reopenings.
Even in 2023, with the global market rebounding, China’s ticket sales reached $7.5 billion, with nearly 1.3 billion admissions, firmly securing its status as Hollywood’s biggest rival in terms of numbers.
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This ascent is no accident - it is the result of a deliberate state-driven push to turn China into a movie superpower.
Beijing has made its intentions plain: it wants a domestic film empire to challenge Hollywood’s dominance and has marshalled policy, money and manpower to make it happen.
China built more movie screens in just over a decade than any other country on Earth - over 82,000 by 2021, up nearly twentyfold since 2007.
Gleaming megaplexes have spread from Beijing and Shanghai to far-flung inland cities, bringing cinema to hundreds of millions of new viewers.
The government’s financial firepower has also been thrown behind the film factory.
State-backed banks offer low-interest loans; regulators dangle tax breaks and subsidies to studios.
Real estate tycoons, often with official blessing, poured billions into massive production complexes like Dalian Wanda’s $8.2 billion Qingdao Oriental Movie Metropolis - a sprawling studio lot built to world-class specs.
At a star-studded 2016 gala in Los Angeles, Wanda’s owner even wooed Hollywood executives with promises of lavish co-production deals, offering them a bigger slice of China’s box office if they filmed in Qingdao (a 43% revenue share versus the normal 25% for imported films).
The message was clear: China was open for business and eager to learn Hollywood’s magic, so long as the finished product would bolster China’s industry.
Crucially, Beijing has shielded its nascent film sector from being steamrolled by Hollywood’s juggernaut.
For years, only 34 foreign films were allowed a wide theatrical release per year on a revenue-sharing basis.
These coveted quota slots forced US studios into fierce competition and sometimes creative contortions to please Chinese censors.
On top of the quotas, authorities impose unofficial blackout periods - blocking imported blockbusters during peak seasons, such as summer holidays or National Day - to ensure local productions face no big-budget competition.
During these protected windows, domestic films reliably dominate the box office.
In July 2017, no Hollywood releases opened wide in China, leaving local hits like the fantasy epic "Wu Kong" to dominate the charts.
Such policies, euphemistically referred to as domestic film protection periods, have given Chinese movies a fighting chance and a home-field advantage.
The results are striking: in 2023, foreign (mostly Hollywood) films accounted for barely 16% of China’s ticket sales, and not one imported movie cracked the country’s top tier of box-office earners for a second year running.
Chinese audiences are turning out in droves for movies, from historical dramas to sci-fi adventures, often bypassing Hollywood fare altogether.
Behind China’s cinematic surge is the heavy hand of the state - and a belief that film is a tool of national power.
The ruling Communist Party views movies as a vehicle to project China’s narrative to its people and the world.
Censorship is omnipresent and strict: every script must be vetted, and every movie must secure a government license before release.
In 2018, President Xi Jinping folded the National Film Bureau under the Party’s Central Propaganda Department, signalling cinema’s role in propaganda.
The 2017 Film Industry Promotion Law states that films must serve the people and socialism, spread core socialist values, and never harm the nation's dignity or interests.
It also forbids content that undermines national unity or disturbs social stability. Authorities expect filmmakers to maintain excellent moral integrity and swiftly punish those who stray.
When a top actress was caught evading taxes in 2018, she vanished from public view for months and later paid a colossal fine - a cautionary tale.
The same law also cracked down on box-office fraud, publicly shaming theatres caught faking ticket sales to ensure propaganda victories look genuine.
To its credit, the Chinese government has jump-started the modern film industry from the top down.
Huge state-led investments built domestic studios and trained technical talent.
Modern filmmaking know-how flowed in through partnerships with Hollywood, with state firms taking stakes in US productions or luring American experts to Chinese sets.
Censors loosened up just enough in the 2000s to let more entertaining genres thrive, as long as the political messaging stayed on script.
The result was a new breed of blockbuster that fused crowd-pleasing storytelling with patriotic themes. Industry insiders call them main melody films - slick commercial movies that sing the Party’s praises.
These patriotic crowd-pleasers have fundamentally changed Chinese cinema.
Old propaganda flicks were often didactic and dull, but by the late 2000s, Beijing learned to attract audiences by telling intriguing stories with main melody elements.
War epics, action thrillers and comedies now showcase Chinese heroes and national pride without overt lecturing.
Operation Red Sea (2018) is a prime example - a Navy SEALs-style film loosely based on China’s evacuation of civilians from Yemen.
It delivers explosions and shootouts while portraying the Chinese military as a responsible global force.
Another hit, the sci-fi spectacle The Wandering Earth (2019), imagines Chinese astronauts saving the planet with Chinese flags and a message of collective action.
Privately financed blockbusters like Wolf Warrior 2 and The Wandering Earth shattered records within days.
They proved propaganda can sell tickets if packaged with flair.
Main melody blockbusters now routinely out-gross Hollywood imports in China and spark genuine excitement on social media.
Many younger moviegoers view them as enjoyable films with Chinese protagonists, rather than propaganda.
For the government, this is a triumph: patriotism has become an entertaining spectacle. Beijing’s film factory is adept at churning out these domestic mega-hits, timing releases around national holidays to maximise impact.
During the 2021 National Day holiday, authorities rolled out "The Battle at Lake Changjin," the most expensive Chinese film ever made.
This Korean War epic depicted a Chinese victory over US forces in 1950, featuring top directors, huge budgets, and cutting-edge effects.
Lake Changjin earned over $900 million, becoming China’s highest-grossing film and prompting sequels.
Western critics panned its historical distortion and belligerent tone, but domestic audiences flocked to theatres.
The film’s success demonstrated that slick war dramas could be profitable and instil patriotism. Copycats quickly followed as the Party realised nationalist epics were a profitable formula.
From one angle, China is doing much right: providing infrastructure, funding, and protection for local studios to thrive.
Leaders celebrate wins; when "Hi, Mom" and "Lake Changjin" ranked among 2021’s global top-grossing movies, state media hailed it as proof that Chinese stories can rival Marvel.
Beijing views cinema as a pillar of cultural rejuvenation and invests millions in external publicity, including international film festivals, translated films, and foreign theatre partnerships, to boost China’s soft power.
Officials note that Hollywood’s global influence stems from storytelling that has made American values attractive, and they want to replicate that success for China.
Yet the film factory often looks more like a propaganda mill than a creative rival on the world stage. While these movies excel at home, they struggle to resonate overseas, where audiences detect heavy-handed messaging.
Wolf Warrior 2 was a national phenomenon but barely registered in Western markets; its jingoism was seen as crude propaganda.
Lake Changjin, despite its massive box office, remained virtually unknown abroad.
By contrast, a Korean film like Parasite or a Japanese anime can capture global imagination with no state orchestration.
Censorship’s tight confines hinder storytelling
Sensitive topics, such as politics, LGBTQ+ themes, criticism of the government, and dark history, are off-limits, limiting the narrative range.
Some top directors choose to work abroad or in art-house circles, while scripts within China undergo layers of approval that stifle creativity.
Hong Kong legend Chow Yun-fat lamented in 2023 that the industry now has no freedom.
When creativity is hamstrung, producing films that surprise global audiences is hard.
Hollywood benefits from an open marketplace of ideas; China, however, prunes variety to what is politically palatable, often lacking the emotional complexity that outsiders seek.
Moreover, Beijing’s use of film as an overt propaganda tool raises alarms internationally.
China’s market leverage has coaxed foreign studios into self-censorship - deleting references to Taiwan, Tibet or unfavourable portrayals.
A PEN America report warned of a systemic impact on creative freedom as Hollywood alters content to appease Chinese censors.
Top Gun: Maverick removed the Taiwanese flag in early trailers, sparking outrage; the patch was later restored, costing a China release but winning Western applause.
Disney’s live-action Mulan was filmed in Xinjiang and thanked local propaganda bureaus, sparking a #BoycottMulan campaign due to concerns over human rights.
These incidents show growing resistance to Beijing dictating creative terms.
Some nations have banned or edited Chinese films over territorial claims, and US lawmakers propose curbing Hollywood’s self-censorship.
Within China, viewers notice when a Marvel movie or Korean drama is blocked, expressing frustration online despite censorship.
Industry insiders urge the production of more movies that resonate globally, acknowledging that bigger budgets alone cannot compensate for formulaic storytelling.
In 2024, officials distributed free tickets and offered half-price discounts to boost post-COVID attendance; however, subsidies cannot replace compelling content.
As one professor noted, improving the supply of quality films matters more than stimulating demand. Artists need the freedom to take risks if China wants captivating films.
So, is China’s film industry a global contender or a propaganda mill? It is both, and that is its predicament.
China has a Hollywood-scale production machine and enormous profits at home, yet ideological constraints limit its global appeal.
Movies thrive on emotional connection and authenticity, and are complex to manufacture under strict control.
A factory can churn out blockbusters on command, but great cinema often requires freedom to fail or offend. Unless leaders relax their grip, dreams of cultural dominance may remain unfulfilled.
Beijing nurtures infrastructure and competitiveness, and filmmakers are resourceful within constraints.
However, many internationally celebrated Chinese-language films, from Crouching Tiger and Hidden Dragon to Wong Kar-wai’s works, emerged outside the mainland system.
The current approach may yield domestic hits yet struggle abroad, while cinema remains a vehicle for propaganda. Global audiences admire China’s technical feats but stay wary of imported propaganda.
What happens if the Communist Party vets future blockbuster heroes?
Should the world cheer a new cultural powerhouse or fear subtle messaging in entertainment?
Public debate and activism can pressure Western studios to uphold creative integrity, as seen with Top Gun and Mulan.
Chinese voices, though muted, still call for genuine storytelling. The key test is whether China can strike a balance between national pride and artistic freedom.
In short, China’s film factory shows what centralised power can achieve - sweeping growth and record box offices.
However, its strength as a propaganda tool may also be its greatest weakness abroad.
The world watches popcorn in hand to see if Beijing’s next blockbuster can win hearts everywhere or remain a well-produced pamphlet on screen.
The answer will shape the future of movies and the global cultural landscape for years to come.
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Best,
Jayant Mundhra
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References:
China’s film industry hopes for a box office revival after last year’s slump - CNA
During Hollywood blackout, domestic films dominate China's box office - Los Angeles Times
China: First Law on Film Industry Effective in March | Library of Congress
China box office falls 23% to $5.8bn in 2024 | News | Screen
China passes law to ensure films 'serve the people and socialism' | Film industry | The Guardian
China introduces film industry law - Culture - Chinadaily.com.cn
Main Melody Recomposed: Deconstructing the Wolf Warrior Phenomenon | Center for the Humanities
Over Lunar New Year, China's box office hits record, travel jumps | Reuters
Ne Zha 2: Film’s DeepSeek moment and what it means for China’s ‘soft power’
Mainland blockbuster Wolf Warrior 2 unlikely to impress Hong Kong ...
Renowned HK actor laments China’s censorship hurts creativity – Radio Free Asia
Chinese Government Censorship Poses Clear Risk to Creative ...
'Top Gun: Maverick' brings back the Taiwan flag after controversy
Disney’s Mulan faces backlash, boycott for filming in Xinjiang | Arts and Culture | Al Jazeera