Taiwan Today

The last show at 20 theatres within a five-minute walk begins at midnight. But if you want another plate of steamed dumplings and can't quite make it...well, there are scores of 24-hour MTV places where you can rent movie tape, room, and oversize TV screen to see an old Humphrey Bogart movie, an offering from Hong Kong's Run Run Shaw, or the latest carnage courtesy of Sly Stallone.

All it takes to round out an evening of conversation and good food stall snacks is a quick-footed sprint among racing Hondas, Vespas, and taxis to the nearest blazing marquee in the "theater streets" of Hsimenting. Beyond the turnstile is international cinematic cuisine: Chinese, American, European, and recently even Japanese.

Watching movies is an integral part of life in Taiwan, and local enthusiasm has stimulated homegrown production as well as the import trade. According to government statistics, a trip to the movies has remained in the top three most favored leisure activities for at least the last 5 years, outpaced only by watching TV and reading.

The appeal of movies is universal, of course, for there is something for everyone, be they bank presidents or street peddlers. Love, violence, love, myth, love, historical fiction, love, travel—it can all be found for the equivalent of three to four bucks depending on the quality of theater disrepair.

Movies are big business, but the ROC government has always viewed the motion picture industry as more than a source of casual entertainment. Movies have cultural content, and not always of the beneficial sort. Questions of appropriateness and cultural invasion have been as much a concern in the Executive Yuan as in PTA meetings in Des Moines.

But everywhere in the tritely phrased "communication society," there are extensive changes in the creative tension among movie magnates, theater goers, and government. New sensitivities, opportunities, and challenges have come to the fore, raising pertinent questions of movie quality and quantity. Among the questions that governments must answer are the always sticky ones of how involved it should be in the movie industry, and in what areas it should adopt a hands-off policy. Government leaders in the ROC face the same challenge of achieving the optimum—and delicate—balance between public and private sectors.

Beginning in 1949, after the central government moved to Taiwan, public enterprises played a key role in the development of the motion picture industry. By 1954 the publicly owned Agricultural Education Motion Picture Corporation and the Taiwan Motion Picture Corporation had merged as the Central Motion Picture Corporation, and had begun working in loose coordination with other early film makers, including the China Film Studio, which was supervised by the military, and the Taiwan Film Studio under the Taiwan Provincial Government.

Private film makers also did well in the local market, and during these early years, they cooperated closely with government film operations by exchanging production facilities and talent. Both industry inexperience and generally limited finances made this arrangement a near necessity.

Starting in 1955, many local films were dubbed in the Amoy (Taiwanese) dialect to assure a wider audience. But these were made only for a few years before the government's campaign to promote Mandarin as the lingua franca included movies as an effective way to standardize the variety of Chinese dialects commonly used on the island. Even then, Mandarin films were subtitled—as they are now—in Chinese written characters so that all Chinese, whatever their aural linguistic ability, could follow the plot.

One of the earlier attempts by the government to stimulate both private investment in films and high quality productions was its establishment of the Golden Horse Awards in 1962. Although copied after the American Oscars, the idea unfortunately fell stillborn from the bureaucratic planning boards. For reasons not altogether clear, winning a Golden Horse Award created no passionate responses from either the industry or the public.

But on the night of the 17th Golden Horse Awards ceremony in 1980 (no ceremonies were held in 1965 and 1977), the Government Information Office (GIO) put some pizzazz in its production, and the public suddenly took notice. Part of the credit must be given to the violet eyes of Elizabeth Taylor, who along with James Mason and other American stars was invited to attend the award presentations in Taipei.

The GIO emphasized three goals for the Golden Horse Awards during its remarkably mod event, arguing that domestic movies must further stress professionalism, artistry, and internationalization. The first two themes came as no surprise to the local industry, but the latter changed the physiology of the award as much as Miss Taylor's gracious appearance changed the shape of male conceptions of beauty.

The government was in fact calling for a broader view of film production, a firm suggestion that movie makers look beyond the ROC's borders and compare their standards with other nations that had greater experience in the craft. The new direction indicated both national confidence about being able to withstand any "foreign pollution," and served to galvanize the local industry. Things started to happen on the screen that kept people awake to the closing credits.

By the evening of the 20th awards ceremony, directors, stars, and producers were biting fingernails in hopes of garnering a now coveted statue. The movie industry had developed higher standards—international standards—that emphasized making movies that not only sold tickets in Hsimenting, but also filled the silver screen with films that deserved worldwide recognition.

The internationalization of the industry was well underway; but, as it turned out, it was not yet healthy enough to leave the government's protective fold without experiencing difficulties. When the GIO decided to withdraw its sponsorship of the Golden Horse Awards and put it in private hands beginning with the 21st award ceremony in 1984, problems soon emerged. With sponsorship by private local groups, the awards galloped unreined into the dangerous plains of favoritism, infighting, and ineptness. A visible decline in the quality of selections and the event itself soon emerged, and both the public and the industry faced an unhappy choice: allow the deterioration to continue, or urge more governmental involvement.

All sorts of professional, intellectual, and political issues naturally emerged from these possibilities, revolving primarily around the central question of the degree to which government should be involved in cultural and artistic events. As in any democratic society, a subtle psychology is involved, for government involvement with the movie industry prompts public concerns. People begin to worry about their freedom of expression; but if the government adopts a laissez-faire attitude, it may just as easily be criticized for being indifferent to the development of domestic cinema and the expansion of cultural life available to the public.

Much of the issue remains a matter of degree, of course, but finding the correct proportion of involvement often proves a difficult consensus to achieve. Governments are generally loathe to throw money into a room full of directors and producers without some rules, guidelines, and accountability—categories seen as restrictions by those on the receiving end.

As far as the specific yet representative issue of the Golden Horse Awards is concerned, the best solution remains to be found. Granted, the awards are far from the Oscars in renown; nevertheless, they have already gained a favorable reputation in the Asia-Pacific region.

Currently four civic groups take turns hosting the ceremonies: the Motion Picture and Drama Association of the ROC, the Motion Picture Studio Association of Taiwan, the Motion Picture Association of Taipei, and the Film and Television Professional Players Union of Taipei City, ROC. Although these have developed considerable expertise in the mechanics of the yearly event, there is a larger issue that bothers the industry.

Wang Ying-hsiang, the head of Long Shong Pictures Ltd., explains why he would like the GIO to take over the sponsorship again: "Civic groups do not have as much 'face' as a governmental agency. And they do not have enough authority. Therefore, their coordinating work is not as efficient."

But Liao Hsiang-hsiong, director of the Department of Motion Picture Affairs of the GIO disagrees. "Things done can't be undone. Today, the government plays the role of a helper. We suggest, and we coordinate. We do not administer. We intend to make our department an agency with objective standing and some authority only as a coordinator."

Concerning the problems with the award ceremony, Liao adds: "For the present, the basic problem is the rotation system. Experience can't pass on to each sponsor by rotation. Our suggestion is to make a single special office in charge, which might possibly be established under the Motion Picture Development Foundation. The office could then deal with all the arrangements and distribute duties to the participating civic groups."

The two positions are fairly representative of the discussion still underway within the industry as well as the press. At heart, much more than the awards is at stake: the most appropriate role of government in film has yet to be determined, both in conception and application. Meanwhile, the private sponsors have attempted to breathe more spirit into their yearly productions, which are as much promotional events as award ceremonies.

Starting in 1980, the sponsors of the Golden Horse Awards scheduled the first Taipei International Film Festival. Beyond wanting to add some spice to the sometimes indigestibly lengthy ceremony, they were determined to end neglect of non-commercial films in the ROC. By highlighting quality "films" as well as popular "movies," the festival has brought a new dimension to local cinema.

The GIO's Director Liao agrees with the new direction: "We would like to expand the opportunities of giving equal recognition to both the artistry and enjoyability of films." Liao emphasizes that he has personally abandoned using the term "commercial" as the prime category of movie assessment.

Happily, the government has been able to move away from another of its tasks that has long been a bone of contention: setting film quotas. Regulating the number of foreign films allowed in the local market began in 1955 as a means of protecting domestic production and of preventing the entry of movies deemed unsavory and inappropriate. While both aspects of the policy had positive features, they also drew flack from critics who believed the government was too heavy-handed in its restrictions.

Starting from 1974, the government relaxed its regulations somewhat, and began giving higher quotas to local studios whose productions were being chosen to participate in international film festivals. The system was finally jettisoned in 1986—with the exception of continuing limitations on pornographic films and imports from the Chinese mainland and Japan. Even the latter limitations may be eradicated for all intents and purposes in the near future.

Now that the quota system is mostly a procedure of the past, Liao reflects on its strengths and weaknesses: "Originally, the quota system was established to protect the domestic film industry during its infancy. But the industry developed so rapidly that by 1968, the ROC became the second largest film producer in the world—in that year alone there were 230 movies, including 20 Mandarin color movies and 117 Amoy dialect black-and-white movies.

"And then domestic films started to be exported, and to compete successfully in international film festivals. Finally, in 1986, the government decided that all foreign films (except those from Communist China and Japan) could freely enter the local marketplace. The decision was made because of a recession in the foreign film market during the 1970s that decreased the need for the system, and also in order to liberalize the domestic market."

Because of sometimes bitter memories of the occupation period, the government has long restricted films from Japan. But this is only a small part of the picture. Japanese films were correctly seen as being big-league competition for domestic production as well as a potential source of unwanted "cultural invasion." The recent appearance of more Japanese films in local theaters indicates a decision by both the industry and government that these considerations have become outdated.

Japanese movie imports have been allowed under special guidelines since 1984. Many movie company representatives have encouraged loosening the restriction on Japanese productions because they believe Japanese films will not adversely influence the order already established in the domestic market. Other market observers point out a more cynical fact: Japanese film representatives have befriended many domestic entrepreneurs, who in turn have become high visibility advocates for increased Japanese film imports.

There is still disagreement in the industry, however, on the Japanese film question. Chang Shu-sheng, vice general manager of Hong Tai Motion Picture Corporation, feels that "No matter how competitive Japanese production is, gradually letting it in is a good thing." While Wang of Long Shong strongly opposes the idea: "Our film industry still needs protection. It's not the right time for a complete opening-up." The GIO's Liao explains the governmental position, which has not yet jelled: "We respect different opinions. And our decision will be based on the consensus of the majority of entrepreneurs."

In fact, the abolishment of the majority of the quota system two years ago was a benchmark event. It proved that the local film industry has in fact matured. Moreover, many people view the eradication of the policy as a giant step forward in cultural internationalization, which is part of the general trend found in ROC government policies.

Last year the liberalization process moved another step forward with the opening in Taipei of the Theater for Artistic Films. The theater, which seats over 400, gives the public an opportunity to view low-cost artistic films that would not likely be great box office hits. Although audiences are frequently rather small, the theater adds aesthetic texture and broader choice to the domestic scene.

There have been other key developments in promoting qualitative improvement in the movie industry. The ROC Motion Picture Development Foundation, established in 1975, had its funding originally tied to the revenue derived from importing foreign films. That source of income dried up after the domestic market was opened to free competition, and the Foundation must now secure other funding sources.

Liao says of the Foundation: "It's cosponsored by the GIO and several civic cinema groups. The Foundation gives scholarships to college students majoring in drama and theater, and it also honors superior script writers, offers awards to experimental films, makes loans to film makers, and assists film corporations in supporting acting classes. And on college campuses it holds film festivals in order to stir up student interest in domestic films, because students have been one of the main markets for foreign film showings."

One of the most significant accomplishments of the semi-official foundation was its setting up of the Motion Picture Library in 1978. The Library functions as a repository for all film industry materials. It also regularly shows old movies and sponsors film-related lectures.

Liao, who is one of the directors of the Foundation's board, says: "Motion pictures were introduced to China over 80 years ago. Old films give a record of history and civilization. By organizing the documents and information of this sort, the Library is a significant source of cultural information." Not surprisingly, some people complain that the Library is actually involved in commercial activities and has become another competitor in the market. While it is true that the Foundation sells tickets for International Film Festival showings, the view seems restricted to those with more concern about personal profits than the general cultural environment.

Hsu Li-kung, head of the Library, points out: "This is a misunderstanding. And most possibly, it's an excuse because of the current recession in the film business. The International Film Festival can enhance cultural exchange. The Library uses its overseas relations to buy those artistic movies least likely to be chosen by local theaters. And our finances are so limited that we really can't threaten the domestic market anyway. It is true that some artistic films prove to have commercial value as well, but interested companies can choose these based on audience reaction. Actually, the Library helps cultivate an audience for artistic films. It can in fact help develop a greater artistic market for local entrepreneurs. So, they really shouldn't complain."

Another motion picture institute is also on the planning boards: the Motion Picture Information Center. Liao explains: "The Information Center will help to collect the latest data on the motion picture industry and will publish periodicals to spread the news of important trends and valuable technical innovations. The government has suggested founding the Center because most local film entrepreneurs are not sufficiently concerned about international trends in film making. While there is nothing wrong with relying on homegrown inspiration, this should be supplemented with ideas from abroad. Also, the Center might be able to attract more entrepreneurs to invest in the industry because of the facts and figures it can provide."

Liao adds that the expected professionalism of the Information Center will provide assistance in analyzing the general climate of the market, which will make investment in movies somewhat less risky. "It will also be a giant step to push domestic films into the international market," he adds.

Another successful move toward greater internationalization of the market is already well underway. Each year a large number of domestic films are entered in international film festivals. For example, two movies by director King Hu, "A Touch of Benevolence," the story of a chivalrous woman, and "Legend of the Mountain," a ghost story, both won awards at the Cannes Film Festival. And the so-called "avant-garde school" directors in the 1980s, such as Hou Hsiao-hsien and Edward Yang, have been award winners in the Nantes Film Festival, the Berlin Film Festival, the New York Film Festival, and the Locarno Film Festival. These successes are personal triumphs, but also indicate a higher level of domestic quality—and one recognized internationally.

The GIO has through its official and non-official relations assisted in promoting the works of local studios in these festivals. Liao says: "We participate in international festivals for non-commercial reasons. It's more to demonstrate the development of our motion picture industry, and especially the competence of our people working in film."

Liao adds: "About a decade ago, local film studios had to fight their way into the international market. It was an individual effort for each of them. As you might expect, dealing with an international affair without governmental aid was extremely difficult, and often there were limited results despite herculean efforts. After the GIO began joint planning with the studios, the participation in foreign film festivals increased substantially. There ended up being twice as much success with half the work."

Internationalization of the movie industry has had considerable impact on the internal structure of the market as well. The government has repeatedly reviewed the laws and regulations governing the industry. At first, the military Garrison Command was tasked with governing the industry under the Law of Motion Picture Censorship. Later, a Motion Picture Censorship Bureau was set up under the Executive Yuan, and finally the GIO was put in charge, utilizing the revised and more liberal 1983 Motion Picture Law.

The new law has a more contemporary view of the film industry, stressing its role as a "cultural enterprise." It has 11 chapters and 58 articles that specify the duties and rights of local film production and marketing, as well as regulation of the industry itself. The law passed the responsibility for film review to the GIO. The promulgation was welcomed by many as a guarantee that entrepreneurs could invest in the industry with the law to protect their investments.

The momentum of liberalization picked up considerably last year due to the lifting of the Emergency Decree. As a result, there has been increased desire by the industry to be free of any review that could be construed as censorship. Critics think there is enough maturity in the marketplace to consider the regulatory sections of the law irrelevant.

Liao does not refute this view. He says, "Indeed, some of the stipulations are rather ambiguous. Yet, you can not expect revision of laws to be done overnight. We are trying to work out a new code which is able to look after the freedom of creation and also prevent the authorities from being excessive. We have already finished the draft."

Liao continues: "The code will soon become a supplementary description to Chapter 8, Article 26, of the Motion Picture Law. It will specify with greater precision just what kinds of films should be restricted to avoid endangering national security and to protect consumers' rights."

The proposed new supplementary code has already drawn fire from the media. Not a few commentators grumble about film censorship and call for a removal of virtually all controls. But Hsiao Yeh, who is a writer, film critic, and the architect of the new draft, wrote in a local newspaper column that "The conclusion of the draft symbolizes that the public has begun to express their opinions, and that governmental officials become more open-minded."

A related issue involves the movie rating system. Liao says: "Film rating became a suggested, not compulsory, system in 1984. It has often been abused for not being realistic. At first there were only General and Restricted ratings. The latter restricted admission to those at least 18 years old. Over the past few years, we hosted several symposiums for professional film workers and scholars to discuss this matter. As a result, the new code drafted by Hsiao Yeh suggested three ratings, adding a PG (parental guidance suggested). The new system became effective on January 1, 1988."

Asked of his opinion of the new rating system, Wang of Long Shong Pictures says that he totally agrees with it. Nevertheless, he adds, "But without getting rid of the limitation on movie themes, the rating system can't work. It's reasonable to place limitations on pornographic films and those that might hurt national security. Concerning other themes, I ask for more opening-up. Otherwise, domestic films will be forever paralyzed and unable to compete with foreign films."

Liao responds, "The taboo on certain themes is a sort of self-censorship by film makers. The law does not specify what should or shouldn't be made. In the past, because of the sensitive political situation, themes concerning ideological problems were almost untouchable. Times have changed and the tide has turned. It only remains for film makers themselves to move away from habitual self-confinement."

Concerning the implementation of the revised law and regulations, Chang of Hong Tai Motion Picture Corporation says: "There's not much problem about the law. But I hope that the law-enforcing officers will be objective as possible." Liao is aware of the concern. He says: "This is a problem of mutual trust. The GIO is a central agency. The actual supervision of theaters to see that the law is carried out is the duty of local governmental agencies, such as the Department of Information, Taiwan Provincial Government. "

The law has also given a new national policy for the industry. Director Liao concludes: "The present film policy of our country contains two items. First of all, the GIO should follow the prescription of the new law, abide by the principle of assisting rather than administering, and work together with the people in film. This way, we hope that we can produce motion pictures that achieve high artistic standards and are also enjoyable.

"Second, motion pictures are an important expression of a nation's cultural development. In order to spread knowledge of our culture to other countries, the GIO has the duty to assist local film enterprises, especially in such positive activities as attending international festivals to introduce and export our films."

The contemporary international status of ROC cinema is clearly the consequence of a history of combined efforts by the public and private sectors. Indications for the near future are that this sometimes tense, yet necessary, arrangement will continue unabated. But recent liberalization moves augur well for even greater cooperation between a more flexible government and larger scaled private enterprises. And the introduction of increased competition from foreign films not only opens the marketplace to the benefit of the public, it also opens the minds of entrepreneurs to greater opportunities in competing for international recognition of domestic cinema.