Abstract
Sino-Australian film co-production was founded on a treaty signed in 2007 and implemented in 2008. This article looks at the impetus for Australian and Chinese film-makers to work together and analyses the challenges of Sino-Australia treaty co-production. It addresses the question of why only a few low-profile films have been made after several years. The rewards from the Chinese market remains elusive, but valuable lessons have been learnt. The two case studies examined by this article illustrate Australia’s junior partnership with China.
In the past several years, Chinese film-makers have actively pursued a range of international co-productions and collaborative ventures. China’s outward bound media strategy, which is supported by the government, aims at positioning Chinese media in all corners of the globe. As part of its foreign policy and soft power strategy, which aims to build a better image of China internationally, the Chinese government has signed co-production agreements with countries including Italy, Australia, Canada, France, New Zealand, Singapore, Belgium, South Korea and the United Kingdom in order to share skills and compete with Hollywood.
This article analyses some of the core economic and cultural motivations underpinning Sino-Australia treaty co-production. By examining two films made under the treaty, The Dragon Pearl (2011) and 33 Postcards (2011), it finds that being ‘blessed’ by the government is not necessarily an indication that a project will be financially successful, especially given the rising competition of domestic and foreign feature films in the Chinese market today. The scope of this article does not permit detailed discussion of complex bureaucratic procedures. The intent is to understand why co-productions with producers in Australia are pursued.
Australia is chasing the dragon’s tail. Australia’s film industry is neither large, just AUD$1.23 billion in 2015 (MPDA, 2016), nor is it globally competitive. We need to ask: what’s the mutual benefit? China has a large film industry. Its domestic box office was RMB44.069 billion in 2015, a total of 686 feature films were produced (State Administration of Press Publication Radio Film and Television (SAPPRFT), 2016) although most of these fail to recoup their investment, which is often underwritten by the government. But will China’s outward bound strategy bring new overseas audiences and with it new understandings of China? What can Australia provide? While China’s presence in the global film market is comparatively weak in terms of reputation, Australia has been involved in many big-budget international collaborations, including The Great Gatsby (2013) and The Matrix (1999), which are generally categorised as ‘runaway productions’ (Elmer and Gasher, 2005). Together with the advantages of desirable shooting locations, this provides Australia with some credibility in the marketplace for Chinese co-productions.
China has an official co-production treaty with Australia. Compared with other countries (and regions) that have an agreement or similar bilateral treaties with China, for instance, SAR Hong Kong, Australia is a ‘junior partner’ (Yue, 2014: 187). ‘Junior partner’ is a term coined in film co-production studies to ‘describe a new and increasingly common type of relationship between marginal and dominant partners’ (Yue, 2014: 187; see also, Goldsmith et al., 2010). Yue (2014) frames Australia’s partnership with China, theoretically, as exemplifying ‘minor transnationalism’ (p. 187). The term is used by Lionnet and Shih (2005) to refer to ways in which connections are built with minority cultures through routes that bypass dominant global forces. As Yue (2008) suggests, the Australian film industry’s move towards Asia reflects a minor transnationalism route, as its traditional path has been through the flow of creative talent and resources to Hollywood and Europe.
The Australian impetus to co-produce with China
The Australian film industry has always struggled with market access. In the earliest days of the Australian film revival of the 1970s, Australian films achieved success in the domestic market through their ability to represent Australian stories on the big screen. However, there has been an appreciable decline in the viability of the local market for Australian films over the last 10–20 years (Harris, 2007, 2013). In part, this is attributable to the growth in popularity of Australian television, although there are also a variety of structural reasons for Australian films’ relative lack of domestic success. The Australian film industry is, in many respects, an industry of start-up directors and other creative principals, as many of the leading lights move on to make films elsewhere, particularly in the United States. The lack of local success has reached a crisis point over the last decade. Its domestic market share often hovers between 2% and 5%, which causes much debate about the viability of the industry (Harris, 2007, 2013). As in so many other countries, the local box office is dominated by well-marketed Hollywood products. This problem is addressed by Lauren Carroll Harris (2013) and Richard Harris (2007) on the distribution crisis – where many Australian films do not reach a wide audience. Lauren Carroll Harris (2013) shows how enterprising film and documentary makers in Australia have set up their own distribution channels targeted to their market, have kept budgets low and retained control of their films’ profits. With the film industry heavily dependent on distribution deals for funding, collaboration with Chinese partners offers the prospect of both new sources of production finance and new distribution channels.
In Australia, co-production normally refers to an official co-production: a film approved under a co-production treaty or memorandum of understanding (MOU) between the Australian government and the government of another country (Screen Australia, 2013c). Since 1986, Australia has signed treaties with Canada, China, Germany, Italy, Ireland, Israel, Singapore, South Africa and the United Kingdom and MOUs with France and New Zealand. Negotiations are underway with the governments of Denmark, India, Malaysia and the Republic of Korea (Screen Australia, 2013b: 26). As Mike Walsh (2012) argues, these treaties are part of a larger movement by Australian film institutions away from the limitations of cultural nationalism, and towards a recognition of the need for new forms of international engagement if local film and television production is to be economically viable on a long-term basis. (p. 303)
A report by Screen Australia (2013a) in 2012 shows that the overwhelming majority of Australian co-productions have been with the United Kingdom, France and Canada.
Australian feature film production is currently focused on niche genres such as art cinema, documentary and domestic comedies, with only occasional large-scale mass-market commercial films (Walsh, 2012: 308). According to Screen Australia (2013a: 12), the budget for Australian domestic films tends to be low by international standards. International co-productions tend to have a higher budget than domestic productions. Financial pooling through co-production is a very important benefit, which, to some extent, can compensate for the disadvantages of a low budget.
With the economic rise of Asia, both federal and state governments in Australia are attempting to strengthen business relationships in the region through a range of measures. However, trade in cultural goods lags behind. In recent years, the rapid expansion of Asian screen industries, especially the Chinese media industry, has pushed many governments, including Australia’s, to focus on Asian media collaborations. In Australia, more treaties and MOUs have been signed or are being negotiated with Asian countries. China, South Korea, Malaysia and Singapore are seen as territories presenting ‘great opportunities’ for Australia according to Screen Australia’s Manager Partnerships, Chris Oliver (2014) 2 .
The Common Ground report, published by Screen Australia in 2013, explored opportunities for Australian screen partnerships in Asia. It documents ‘more than eighty Australian producers and production companies working with an Asian focus’. Of Australian producers surveyed, 63% had done business with China, 47% of local producers derived some revenue from the Chinese market, 43% expected their revenue from China to expand and 27% expected it to expand significantly (Screen Australia, 2013d: 13).
The Chinese impetus to produce with Australia
The question film industry insiders frequently ask when it comes to the topic of Sino-Australian co-production is: why do Chinese film-makers want to co-produce with Australia? If they want extra international market share, is a country with 23 million people the best choice? If it wants world-leading creative and technical skills, should the United States not be the better teacher? Australian film-maker Pauline Chan, the director of the second Australia–China treaty co-production 33 Postcards, argues that ‘Australia needs China. China does not need Australia’ (Dillon, 2012: 96, cited in Yue, 2014: 187). So, what is Australia’s attractiveness to China’s film industry?
From the perspective of Screen Australia (2013d: 4), the attributes of Australia are as follows: first, Australia’s shared history with China and the experiences of Chinese Australian individuals and communities, which are a rich source of story content with the potential to appeal audiences in both countries; second, Australia’s natural beauty and the similarity of time zones; third, the variety of government support mechanisms. In addition, the report (Screen Australia, 2013d: 4) regards the attributes of the Australian screen production industry as attractive to international partners for the following reasons: the track record of creative and technical skills, especially in the post, digital and visual effect sector (Yecies et al., 2011); the professionalism of Australian practitioners and international best practice, especially in production management and production accounting; its experience in creating successful children’s content for the international market (e.g. H2O: Just Add Water; Ward and Potter, 2009); and strong connections to international distribution networks.
However, these attributes are not necessarily seen as attractive by Chinese film-makers, especially well-established film-makers with connections to the United States, Europe or the United Kingdom. There is no real shared history in the sense that exists between the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and Hong Kong or even the PRC and South Korea. Australia and China are more like trading partners looking to develop greater cultural opportunities. Australia is, essentially, a Western, Anglo-Celtic country. Moreover, the experiences of Chinese Australians have not been translated very well into film so far (see later discussion of 33 Postcards). One of the important attributes of international co-production for Chinese film-makers until recently was the global distribution pipelines, largely controlled by Hollywood majors but now more accessible through Wanda’s 2014 acquisition of AMC. While Australian companies can now offer little in this regard (Walsh, 2012: 310–311), Australia is, however, a good choice for mid-range Chinese producers. According to one industry insider, collaboration may ‘provide a cheaper but also more accessible pathway … to global film-making’ (Walsh, 2012: 312). Australian ex-Screen West official and independent film-maker Defrim Isai (2013) 1 says, ‘China needs Hollywood’s experience, but Hollywood experience can come from the back door, which is from Australia and much more controllable’. While this may be an optimistic view, the reality is that Sino-Australian official co-production treaties provide platforms for mid-range producers from both sides who are seeking ways to pool financial sources and internationalise their productions.
Since the Sino-Australia treaty was enacted in 2008, only three treaty co-production films had been produced so far, including one, Children of the Silk Road (2008), which was finished before the treaty was signed, The Dragon Pearl and 33 Postcards in 2011 (Screen Australia, 2013a: 20). None of these films have achieved any noteworthy box office or artistic success in either country (see Table 1).
Box office returns of Australian co-productions.
Source: Entgroup (cited in Walsh, 2012: 307).
Official co-production films can be counted as domestic releases in China and so are not restricted by the quota that limits the number of foreign films released in China each year. They can also gain other advantages associated with domestic films in China, including more box office share and better movie theatre schedules. In Australia, treaty co-productions are automatically regarded as Australian and do not need to pass a ‘significant Australian content’ (SAC) test in order to claim the Producer Offset rebate (Screen Australia, 2013b: 5). The Producer Offset is a guaranteed portion of the budget provided by the Australian government to support the development of the screen industry. It is a rebate rather than a tax credit and is applied on qualifying Australia production expenditure (QAPE) in making Australian film and television. Feature films can claim 40% of the QAPE. There is no cap on the amount of the offset payable, but the proportion of the budget contributed by the Producer Offset is not available until the film or programme has been completed, and a tax return has been filed (Screen Australia, 2013b: 8–9). Despite all ‘advantages’, many challenges exist. The following section, therefore, addresses the question of why so few treaty films have been made.
Challenges
According to Screen Australia’s (2013d) Common Ground report (pp. 13–15) piracy, censorship, a lack of financial resources to pursue opportunities and difficulty in establishing business relationships were the leading challenges facing Australia producers. However, piracy, censorship and finance are problems existing in any collaboration between film-makers from China and their counterparts from all other countries; they are not unique to Australian producers. The difficulties of mounting a China–Australia treaty co-production are that the obstacles are deeply systemic and lie within the Australian screen industry, rather than in China (Andreacchio, 2013: 4–5).
The issue of finance is a permanent topic in film-making. However, China rarely lacks money for a good story. To cite a saying popular in China: ‘money is a problem, but the problem that can be solved by money is never a problem’. Of Australia-Sino treaty co-production films, The Dragon Pearl, The 33 Postcards and The Stone Forest (in production), 30%–40% of the budgets have been covered by ‘soft’ money, including funding from the Producer Offset and other government sources. Of the budget of the second treaty co-production, 33 Postcards, 70% came from Chinese and Singaporean private investors. In the experience of the film’s director, Pauline Chan, Asian money can be raised very quickly. ‘For 33 Postcards, it was three days in Singapore and in China, we got all the investment. And, in Australia, you could wait for three years’. She raised AUD$3 million in 3 days from two investors (Chan, 2011).
Attracting finance in China is not a major problem if a project has a good story. However, the challenge is more about securing the finance. Due to the fast-changing and volatile market, time is of the essence: more than 12 months from signing a co-production MOU to closing finance may be too long. ‘Given that coproduction approvals themselves can take 2-3 months, legals and documentation, including bond guarantees, insurances and investment agreements can at best be done in about four months, that then leaves only 4-5 months to find and close financing!’ (Andreacchio, 2013: 15). But, the complexity of the Australian system does not help producers who are seeking to move quickly. The number of approvals required on the Australian side and the length of time required to obtain them are even more complicated and longer than on the Chinese side. There is also uncertainty as to whether approvals will be given.
The major challenge is the difficulty in developing a suitable script, one that not only satisfies audience tastes but also complies with the needs of both governments. Furthermore, the ambition of those producers to attract viewers from both countries makes the project more complex and success harder to achieve. In fact, looking for a suitable story is not just a challenge for Sino-Australian co-production but for all international collaborations. Nevertheless, the situation is more complicated in Sino-Australian cases. The sheer number of adverse factors might also explain why so few films have been made under the treaty since 2006.
Unlike China’s co-production with culturally proximate partners such as Hong Kong and Korea, there are huge cultural differences between Chinese and Australian value systems. Scripts restricted to universal content, such as science, technology or shared history, may have a better chance of being successful, but this narrows down the range of subjects. While Hong Kong and South Korean co-producers benefit from cultural proximity, Australian producers are left to compete with Hollywood or, more realistically, to inhabit the lower budget, niche end of the market while, in most cases, partnering with second-tier Chinese producers.
Insufficient knowledge of the counterpart market requires joint script development from the very early stage. A joint development strategy not only ‘allows for clarity and incorporation of China-side requirements, but also creates an environment where the development budget can be negotiated and shared’ (Andreacchio, 2013: 6–8). Andreacchio further points out that ‘the process of shared producer responsibilities with foreign partners and shared financial contributions in development is not common in Australia’. Moreover, the Chinese approach to developing projects is more market oriented than the Australian system, which should be an important shift in thinking for Australian producers. Due to long-term government subsidies, Australia film-makers tend to purely focus on the film itself and, consequentially, demonstrate a lack of detailed consideration of market return.
Case studies
The Dragon Pearl
After co-producing with Germany, France, the United Kingdom, South Africa, Canada and Japan, Mario Andreacchio (2012) saw China as a ‘natural extension’ (p. 34). The Dragon Pearl (2011), made between his company AMPCO Films and Hengdian World Studios (the largest studio complex by area in the world), is regarded as the first Sino-Australia treaty co-production. The budget was about US$20 million (Hatherley, 2011). This fantasy adventure film starred Sam Neill, Jordan Chan and Wang Ji, with a range of Chinese elements such as dragons and panoramic views together with visual effects, and was expected to play very well in the Chinese box office. However, it only made around US$4.8 million.
The film tells the story of how two teenagers, Josh and Ling, help a trapped dragon regain its ‘magic pearl’. In their adventures, they confront an evil archaeologist Philip Dukas (Robert Mammone). Josh’s father Chris (Sam Neill) and Ling’s mother Dr Li (Wang Ji) predictably disbelieve the teenagers’ story. The use of dragon elements led to some problems for Andreacchio, as the current Chinese authorities are ‘very protective of their dragon, a still-potent symbol of creation and continuity, utterly unlike St. George’s fire-breathing monster’ (cited in Hatherley, 2011). Much patience was required in dealing with the authorities. Even the film’s original title, ‘The Last Dragon’, was problematic, as the dragon is a loved symbolic creature in China, and the idea that there could only be one remaining was unthinkable for Chinese authorities. It was suggested that they use a panda instead (Debelle, 2013). The image of the dragon in this film was modified many times to make sure that it complied with the traditional Chinese dragon image.
The Dragon Pearl is a family film, a genre popular in Australia but not in China. Andreacchio (2012) realised this limitation and tried to market and present the film ‘as being a lot more action driven’ (p. 36). As a cinematic experience, however, the film takes an inordinate amount of time to develop its action plot. The special effects devoted to the appearance and actions of the dragon betray the limitations of the budget and would be hard-pressed to captivate audiences who expect a Hollywood-standard spectacular akin to Raiders of the Lost Ark driven by budgets several times greater than this one.
Good marketing and distribution saw the film open on 3500+ screens in China in March 2011 (Hatherley, 2011). The film achieved reasonable box office success in the first several weeks of screening – coming in at 17th in the Chinese box office from January to March 2011 (Cremin, 2011). However, the awkward action and childish content quickly lost the main group of cinema-going audiences (19–25 years old). The spectacular scenery around the temple may have been unusual for Western audiences but not for Chinese audiences. The role played by Jordan Chan in the film was not central enough to secure the benefits of his popularity. His acting in this film was far removed from his earlier Hong Kong gangster movies. Another main Chinese actress, Wang Ji, is well known to most 1970s or older audiences, but she is not known to younger audiences. In the end, there was sharp drop off in attendances, which led to a poor final box office performance.
The film was not released in Australia, although it premiered in February 2012 at the Adelaide Film Festival and is now available on DVD. Australia’s junior role in the film is demonstrated by its late premiere and release and marketing as an action film in China. Although the film itself did not achieve success, it tested the market, and the experience accumulated by Andreacchio through this co-production provided valuable lessons, one of which was that Chinese youth audiences are tough critics. Yue maintains that the different Chinese accents in the film challenge the ‘nation-centric diegetic discourse’. However, when screened within China, the film received mandarin dubbing, a palpable Beijing accent if anything, a strategy that the Chinese co-production partners obviously believed would work to its advantage rather than subtitling.
33 Postcards
33 Postcards, a co-production between Portal Pictures and Zhejiang Hengdian Productions, was made by Sydney-based film-maker Pauline Chan. Chan was born in Vietnam, grew up in Hong Kong and went to film school in Australia; such a background has given her deep cross-cultural understanding.
33 Postcards was the second Australia–China treaty co-production. It tells a story of love and redemption. A young Chinese orphan, Mei Mei (Zhu Lin), finally gets to meet her Australian sponsor, Mr Randall (Guy Pearce), in Sydney but realises that his life is completely different from what he has described in the ‘picture cards’ that he sends her for the past years. Randall is actually a convict imprisoned for manslaughter. Unlike The Dragon Pearl, this film is mostly shot in Australia. Yue (2014: 197) sees Australia’s junior partnership reflected in the financing of this film (30% from Australia, 70% from Chinese and Singaporean investors) as well as the number of screens on which the film appeared: 8000 in China, compared to only 42 in Australia.
Almost by default, official or treaty co-productions tend towards positive representations of the countries involved. They will stay within recognised genre boundaries, due to the need for them to work cross culturally. This film positions itself well in Meimei’s final decision to return to China rather than to stay in Australia, fulfilling both governments’ dominant proposal on migration: ‘[Australia] deterring asylum claims, [China] frowning upon outbound emigration’ (Yue, 2014: 198).
In this case, an art cinema director – see, for example, Traps (1994), her third feature – has tried to mix an art cinema ethos, exemplified by Guy Pearce’s character as a damaged, withdrawn antihero, with a melodramatic tale of the impossibly good child, who drives the narrative. As the writer, director and producer of 33 Postcards, Chan tried to ensure the film did not come to resemble the notorious ‘Euro-pudding’ compromised co-production creative process (Bodey, 2011). While Chan (2009) said that this film was for global audiences, not just one particular community, it failed to win over critics. Neil Genzlinger (2013) from The New York Times described it as a ‘sweet if not very credible film’. One review lamented that the dependable Australian actor Guy Pearce appeared in such a ‘sappy, atonal family drama’ (Weitzman, 2013). Frank Scheck (2013) from the Hollywood Reporter mocked the success of this film ‘mainly in provoking the viewer’s sense of disbelief’. Chuck Brown (2013) from Slant Magazine directly criticised it as ‘a jumbled mixture of redemptive uplift and genre hijinks’.
Conclusion
The film’s lack of success, as with The Dragon Pearl, provides the Australian film industry with some useful lessons. Co-producing with China is an option: Chinese producers are certainly looking for opportunities to shoot feature films overseas, in part as a response to the government’s decree that Chinese media and culture should go global (Keane, 2012, 2016), in part as a way to identify contemporary narratives. But, as this article has argued, following Yue’s notion of minor transnationalism, Australia–China co-productions are marginal compared to films made in China and those made with major partners from Hong Kong, the United States and East Asia. However, despite this relative positioning, the ‘junior partnership’ model has benefited the Australian industry and increased Australia’s profile; more Australian films have been released in China, and more post-production-related activity has followed. Yue (2014) identifies Australia’s national distinction to be a more ‘specific post-colonial and multicultural frame, distinguishing itself as a Western nation in an Asian region with a history of Chinese migration’ (p. 201). Currently, Australia is still looked on as ‘part of the universal West’ (Yue, 2014: 201), and Australia–China co-productions are viewed as West-China hybrids. Co-productions such as My Extraordinary Wedding, a romantic comedy currently being filmed in Western Australia, directed by Pauline Chan and produced with Deidre Kitcher, follow the now familiar stranger in a strange land narrative of cultural dislocation, often played for laughs, typified by successes such as Lost in Thailand (Ren zai jiong tu zhi Taijiong, 2012) and Finding Mr Right (Beijing yushang Xiyatu, 2013). The antecedent for this genre is Feng Xiaogang’s well-known TV drama Bejingers in New York (Beijingren zai Nieyue, 1993).
Few West-China hybrid films have achieved success in both foreign and Chinese markets at the same time. A wholly Australian production without Chinese money and no eye on the Chinese market, Mao’s Last Dancer (2009), was critically acclaimed internationally for its artistic achievement. This independent film, in English with a Chinese theme, earned US$5 million in the United States and over US$22 million worldwide, in comparison with the poor performance of most Chinese films internationally (Rosen, 2011). Films that portray negative images of China seem to be more popular in the West. Although it tells a Chinese story, this film was aimed at the Anglophone market. The film-makers did not need to submit the project to Chinese censors, and had more creative freedom as a result. Another film that has had success is Bait 3D (2012) – a shark in a flooded supermarket Hollywood-style thriller made under Australia–Singapore film treaty with Chinese investment and distribution assistance. The film earned over AUD$40 million at cinemas worldwide, and the Chinese market created around AUD$27 million (Groves, 2013).
To date, Sino-Australian film co-productions have been few and far between; only five have been made, with only three produced under the treaty (including MOU), accounting for just 1.2% of the whole volume of China’s co-productions with other countries. It is evident that Australia’s need for China as a partner is much greater than China’s need for Australia. The biggest beneficiaries of the treaty are second-tier film-makers from both China and Australia, who have used this opportunity to learn how to internationalise their productions. However, developing a co-production between China and Australia runs into degrees of difficulty not seen in other co-productions, such as those between China and Hong Kong or even between China and the United States. Australian partners’ lack of financial resources to pursue and build relationships in China doesn’t contribute to positive image building, compared with the United States, for example. Therefore, it is no surprise that there has been a low output, nor is it surprising that Sino-Australian co-productions have been marginal in contrast to co-productions with film industries in Hong Kong and the United States.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
