China View: Targeting the Hong Kong Film Industry
Chunking Express
Art that is subservient to the state risks losing its integrity, thus falling short of being art. At the extreme, it can become state propaganda. For those who believe in Hong Kong’s freedom, the embrace of Mainland China – and the Communist Party – by the famous Hong Kong movie star Jackie Chan is certainly troubling, especially in the light of the June 2021 censorship guidelines from the Hong Kong Secretary of Commerce and Government. Jackie Chan is an iconic figure in the movie industry, and his alignment with the Mainland has great significance. Nevertheless, it is not possible to determine what motivated his decision. It is clear however that films and directors who have directly criticized and conjectured an oppressive outcome in the event of Hong Kong’s loss of independence have come into direct opposition with the new guidelines.
The obvious implications of censorship guidelines are clear. A movie such as Kiwi Chow’s Ten Years, which imagined the decline of Hong Kong’s independent identity from the time it was made (2015) to a dystopian world ten years later, could not possibly be made now. Among the short segments in the film are scenes depicting a Hong Kong which discriminates against those who speak Cantonese, the native language of the region, pressuring residents to learn Mandarin; and a government that through censorship gradually obscures the city’s history of independence, with tragic protesters resorting to self-immolation. Another film of Chow’s, the 2019 documentary Revolution of Our Times, focuses on an anti-democratic bill that would allow Hong Kong citizens to be transferred to the Mainland when on trial, a violation of the “one country, two systems” agreement that gave Hong Kong considerable autonomy, at least until 2017. Documenting protests, the film tells the story of several sympathetic protesters and gives broader historical context to the conflict. The film was shown on the penultimate day of the Cannes Film Festival in France, without the usual fanfare, but nevertheless, in a brave showing. Revolution of our Times will not be given an audience in Hong Kong (in its native land). Also troubling: the Hong Kong government document, mentioned above, released in June of 2021 giving new guidelines to film censors in Hong Kong. The guidelines direct censors to be aware of material that would threaten national security. There is direct mention of the National Security Law in the censorship guidelines and the directive specifically notes secessionist content as a topic of concern.
As is often the case with censorship, a gap will develop between what is presented in the public sphere and what is done in private. Kiwi Chow’s films, noted above, may not be shown in public places but films that are banned are often available in bootlegged DVD form. The irony is that a lack of copyright and a strong involvement of the black market in movie distribution in China and Hong Kong makes it more difficult for the state to regulate media that is sold. Indeed, films that are very much banned in Mainland China ( such as 7 Years in Tibet and The Thin Red Line) can be found in video stores in various mainland cities. Nevertheless, the public showing of films that are not acceptable to Beijing’s censorship standards, will now be very difficult to see in Hong Kong. One frontier of control will be to see if institutions prevent showings in university classrooms, cafes, and other public spaces. According to one article, in a certain Hong Kong hospital, there has been some unease at showing the above-mentioned film, Ten Years. In Mainland China, the showing of a banned or controversial movie in a classroom or in certain venues may occur but would be seen as rather risky and certainly not be publicly promoted. Nevertheless, private showings continue and will continue to test the limits of censorship and the boundary between public and private.
Of course, there is a certain backlash, and its arena is the internet. American tech companies have resisted giving data to authorities and recently a consortium of international tech companies warned that requirements to reveal users’ information could lead them to withdraw from Hong Kong. The public and communal aspect of showing a film make for a case study in the initial application of the National Security Law. The new censorship guidelines further remove doubt over the priorities of Mainland China in controlling what is seen and said in Hong Kong. Returning to the decision made by the film actor Jackie Chan, philosophically, we can’t reject all collaboration between artists and the state. However, the alignment of such a prominent figure with the Mainland, and its subsequent censorship guidelines, bodes ill for an iconic Hong Kong industry.
