While all of Hong Kong is contending with the real-life excitement and anxiety surrounding reunification with China at the end of the month, the city's renowned film industry is caught up in a scenario that seems as fanciful as any floating-ghost kung fu warrior that has ever graced the screen.
The tangible elements of the drama are these: In 1994, the city's studios released 190 feature films; last year, they released only 116. For the first time ever, foreign movies almost grossed more than Hong Kong-made features. And although the industry's hometown is about to enter into a unique relationship with the world's largest potential film market, there's no guarantee that it will have any more chance of reaping big profits in China than any other cinema power.
The ghost-warrior dream element is this: Casting around for some way out of its funk, Hong Kong filmmakers think they have discovered a potion that will put them back on an even footing with Hollywood. The secret ingredient is also a Hollywood formula: advanced digital effects.
The industry is abuzz with news about Storm Riders, a Christmas release based on a popular comic book. Already, fans are anticipating the climax - Canto-pop idol Aaron Kwok digitally transported to a 71-meter-high Buddha in Szechwan for a kung fu battle.
Producers plan to spend US$5 million on Storm Riders, quintuple the average price for a Hong Kong feature - or about what it would cost to get Bruce Willis to get a shave and read a script.
Although mainland China film officials appear to be interested in Hong Kong's film plans - last weekend, Beijing sent a 60-person delegation to a trade show sponsored by the city government - it's not likely that beefing up effects will open new doors. That's partly because Hollywood has already grabbed market share, and partly because of something of a values clash between Beijing and Hong Kong.
Brent Consulting, a company working on China's entertainment market, says that despite import barriers, nine of the top ten grossing films in Shanghai last year were Hollywood productions.
Hong Kong's past experience also shows that Chinese regulations can make the market difficult to crack. Foreign film entries are currently limited to 50 or 60 a year, and Hong Kong generally accounts for about a third of the total. Under the reunification "one country, two systems" policy, Hong Kong films will probably still be considered foreign, said Fei Jun, secretary general of the China Film Producers Association.
Other obstacles include censorship regulations that bar "counterrevolutionary" content, such as the violence and sex that are Hong Kong movie mainstays.
"There was one guy who robbed a bank, and when the police caught him he said he decided to rob the bank after seeing it done in a movie," said Fei. "That's the kind of thing we're trying to prevent."
Chinese rules do allow foreign companies to produce unlimited films in cooperation with Chinese companies and on Chinese soil, a loophole that Hong Kong companies exploited 10 times last year, said officials at Beijing's Film Co-Production Co. There have already been 10 more such projects completed to date this year.
Hong Kong filmmakers need to solve another foreign-marketing puzzle after reunification: With a domestic market of only 6.3 million people, they are old hands at selling their movies in Taiwan and Southeast Asia, and have been gaining success in Western markets. Now they have to see whether there's a way to serve both China's rules and demands and established tastes in export markets.
"I doubt people here would like to make films just for China," said Hong Kong movie executive Titus Ho. "If you want to please the rest of the world, you cannot please just the China market. The only solution I guess is for producers to find the right balance."
Greg Chang and Saidah Said write for Wired News and Dataphile, a print and online cyberculture magazine in Hong Kong.
