Behind the scenes in the ‘Hollywood’ of China

The moment of truth has arrived. Tension fills the air. The unit director is less than satisfied with the results of two rehearsals, but the sun is sinking, a thin rain darkens the grey sky further and the scene must be shot.

“We can’t waste the day! Suit up! It’s an action scene, you have to look enraged!” bellows a voice through a loudspeaker, haranguing the 100 or so extras assembled on set.

This is to be the climax ofWar Against the Bandits, a television series set during the Japanese occupation and the subsequent civil war, from which Mao Zedong’s Communists emerged victorious. It’s a period of history that has been receiving considerable attention from Chinese film and television production companies and the director mustcapture the imagination of an ever more demanding public.

“It has to look spectacular,” he tells a nervous special-effects crew.

The explosive charges that will turn the cobbled alleyway into “a living hell” have been placed in vases, lamps and anywhere else that might accommodate them. Their cables are connected to a small box that appears to be little more than a car battery, surely too rudimentary a deto­nation device for a scene of such complexity. Nonetheless, the experts are satis­fied. The floor is set alight using oil-soaked rags.

“Everyone in position! Cameras rolling! Action!”

A furious attack ensues. Nationalist soldiers storm the street, which is engulfed by a giant fireball. They advance, shouting and firing off blank rounds.

The crew of War Against the Bandits with a rudimentary detonation device.

Cameras, both fixed and carried on the shoulders of men who stumble through the scene, record the action. The trousers of one operator catch fire and he lets out a scream as an assistant extinguishes the flames.Sitting in front of a battery of monitors, the director seems pleased. “Cut!” he calls out.

Everyone relaxes, some applaud.

War Against the Banditsis just one of the many stories being told in Hengdian, a small town in the city of Dongyang, in eastern Zhejiang province, a four-hour bus ride from Shanghai. Home to about 200,000 people, Hengdian’s census reveals that around 50,000 of these are resident actors. The power the town holds over the audiovisual industry is reflected in statistics that reveal about 20 per cent of all Chinese films and TV series are filmed here; and the town has played host to more than 1,800 productions in the two decades since it first aspired to become the Hollywood of China. This is a comparison that’s repeated everywhere, from official pamphlets to street graffiti, although that particular crown will soon be fiercely contested by prop­erty giant Dalian Wanda’s up-and-coming Oriental Movie Metropolis, in Qingdao, Shandong province.

Every day, a hundred enthusiastic aspiring actors come in. But also dozens of people throw in the towel and leave

An actress on the set of soap opera The Tang Dynasty’s Honour.

The Tang Dynasty’s Honouris a soap opera being filmed on a set designed to resemble a 1,400-year-old village. It’s one of those tales of complicated love seasoned with flying martial arts that are so beloved by Chinese audiences. An action scene is about to commence: a battle betweenclans in which a mysterious heroine who hides her beauty behind a veil cuts down her enemies with a few swings of her blade.

A dozen youths practise with weapons in preparation for the scene, choreographed by martial arts expert Master Yin.

“It has to be spectacular but feasible,” he explains during a break. “And it is paramount to put the choreography at the service of the cameras, which record from different angles.”

It’s this wave of growth that Jadie Lynn hopes to ride in Hengdian. A winner of the popular CCTV 6 Chinese-Korean modelling contest,From Beijing to Seoul, she is signed to Jackie Chan’s talent agency and already has a starring film role under her belt. Now she is shooting scenes for TV seriesThe Punisherin a replica Victorian building.

Jadie Lynn (in red) in The Punisher.

She doesn’t waste a moment. A fellow actress is having trouble with her lines and director Li Yonghui is running out of patience. Under the endless dawn cast by studio lights, camera and sound operators doze in corners while Lynn studies.

“If I want to make a qualitative leap in my career, I have to learn new things. I have been improving my acting skills in America and now I’m training in martial arts and dance,” she says. It’s the first time she has shot in Hengdian but she’s sure

it will not be the last. “Many actors even buy apartments here because they spend long spells in the town. It is a very exciting moment of enormous activity and I want to take advantage of the Chinese market boom. However, compared with South Korea or the US, there is still a long way to go for our audiovisual sector.”

That is a view shared by others.

“There are many productions but their technical quality is not always good and some lack an original and attractive script,” says He Xiaojian, who provides liaison services between tech­nical teams and Hengdian World Studios.

Jin Zhengxuan, who plays the head eunuch in the film The Lonely Hero in the Desert, prepares for his role.

“The problem also lies in the limitations imposed by censorship,” says Zhang Bingjian, a film­maker and the writer ofNorth by Northeast, a movie that required extensive editing to please the censors. “There are many topics and perspectives that are vetoed. So it is difficult to be original and incisive, because the fear of a negative reaction kills creativity.”

Such headaches are minimised in Hengdian, claims Zeng.

“In addition to the fact that filming here is free – revenues are obtained through taxes generated by economic activities – we have a self-managed censorship bureau approved by SAPPRFT to grant exhibition licences. That greatly simplifies the paperwork for film­makers and reduces bureaucracy.”

The truth, though, is that few of the stories told in Hengdian are sensitive ones. Most are romantic soap operas, affable comedies or wartime epics that extol the virtues of the Communist Party.

“Thus, Chinese movies are increasingly disconnected from an audience that no longer wants propaganda and demands a deeper view of the world,” says Zhang.

An actor on the movie set of The Lonely Hero in the Desert.

Indeed,last year, few Chinese films achieved more than seven points out of 10 on the Douban website, which draws millions of users who rate and discuss new releases. Zhang Yimou’s recent fantasy filmThe Great Wall, for instance, barely gets a pass mark of five points and has been subject to a barrage of criticism.

Of course, viewers have limited choice, with Beijing cap­ping the number of non-Chinese productions released each year at just 34. Nevertheless, these account for 40 per cent of industry revenues. If that were not humiliating enough for local filmmakers, a report last year by accountancy firm Deloitte estimated that about 70 per cent of Chinese films are never com­mercially screened, which is “a huge waste of resources and a great threat to investors”.

In another crowded room, a busy Li Xiaodong is preparing the costumes.

“There are almost 1,000 outfits that have been designed in Beijing and produced in Hengdian,” he says. “Here we have a huge auxiliary industry for the audiovisual sector. Artisans make anything from old-looking furniture to clothes. They have to be perfectly classified and numbered so that there are no problems when wearing them. We will spend most of the night getting them ready.”

Extras take a lunch break from filming The Lonely Hero in the Desert.

This, it turns out, is no exaggeration and come midnight there is still much to be done.

The following morning, Jin Zhengxuan, who plays the head eunuch in the film, requires half an hour to don his costume for the first scene. There is no glamour here; Jin dresses in plain view, in the trailer of a truck that Li has filled with costumes. He uses the camera on his mobile phone to help the make-up artist assess the progress of the hairstyle she is working on; no one can find a hand mirror. It’s the beginning of a taxing day for Jin and the many extras on set, during which there will barely be time to enjoy a lunchbox of rice, vegetables and – if they are lucky – a piece of chicken.

In Hengdian, the action never stops. The lights are always on and the cameras ever rolling as the town continues to expand. A replica of Beijing’s Summer Palace is nearing completion, and Zeng, who is also spokesman for Hengdian World Studios, talks of plans to add an old Shanghai street and a small European city to the collection of sets. He knows that time is of the essence; Dalian Wanda’s Qingdao Oriental Movie Metropolis is on the rise.

“We hope to be able to cooperate in the future, although it is clear that for now it will be a competition,” Zeng says. “In any case, the market is big enough for everyone to find their place.”

(SCMP)