AVATAR VERSUS CONFUCIUS
by
MARY KAY
________________
As
a Chinese film board, what do you do when the Hollywood science
fiction film Avatar smashes Chinese box office records in its
first three weeks in theaters, when online chat sites are buzzing
about the uncanny parallels between the fictional film plot
– of developers raping the land and forcibly evicting
the people – and real life in China? What if protesters
against land grabs in southern China start to use Avatar
as a rallying cry, amidst a dispute with Google and disagreement
between the US and Chinese governments about whether information
should be allowed to flow freely to the Chinese public?
Apparently,
you provide commercial reasons for pulling Avatar from
most of the theaters in which it’s showing, and substitute
a Chinese-made film about Confucius that contains a message
you consider more appropriate for the mass consumption: respect
hierarchy.
But
the Jan. 22 opening of Confucius proved so anemic the
Chinese Film Board decided to allow the showing of the 2D version
of Avatar. We’re not surprised to learn that
state enterprises and government offices have been block-booking
Confucius tickets for their employees while other theaters
are giving away free Confucius tickets with Avatar
tickets. And through it all, China’s outspoken online
community has let it rip.
“Confucius
is the enemy of democracy and freedom,” wrote one user
of the chat site Tianya. “Confucius is an ass-kisser,”
another agreed. “That’s why all these government
officials like him.”
Some
on the Chinese chat site Tianya called for a boycott of Confucius
in order to teach the Chinese Film Board that it can’t
shove propaganda films down Chinese viewers’ throats.
Others voiced skepticism of the earlier explanation given by
the State Administration of Radio, Television and Film (SARFT)’s
Vice Director Zhang Hongsen that pulling Avatar from 2D theaters
was strictly a commercial decision, since ticket sales for 2D
cinemas were only bringing in one-third of Avatar’s
total take.
“While
it is extremely hard to get tickets for 3D or IMAX viewings
of Avatar, only 20 percent of the 2D seats are taken,”
he was quoted as saying in the Guangzhou-based newspaper Southern
Daily. “That’s how the market works.”
Chinese
internet users retorted that there are still long lines and
full houses for the 2D version of Avatar, and for good
reason. Most Chinese cinemas don’t have 3D capability,
and most Chinese movie-goers can’t afford to pay twice
as much to see the movie in 3D.
Speculation
has been rife about why Avatar was really pulled. Many
suspect its themes were too close to the bone for the Chinese
government’s comfort.
“What
is Avatar about?” asked one contributor on the
website Mop. “It’s about the government’s
forced evictions of people, and about them risking their lives
to protest. No Chinese director dares to touch this topic.”
Even
a commentator for The Global Times, a newspaper under
the umbrella of the Communist Party-run People’s Daily
said the plot in Avatar was “the spitting image
of the violent demolition in our everyday life.”
If
it seems a stretch that Chinese audiences are relating to 10-foot-tall
blue aliens with tails in an environmental paradise under threat
from greedy developers, but consider the parallels. China’s
break-neck pace of development in recent years has come at a
steep cost to the environment and has caused an estimated 30
million people nationwide to be evicted from their homes and
their communities. Local governments then sell the land to developers
with each – but not the original residents – pocketing
a tidy profit. This is possible because in China all land technically
belongs to the people, which is to say, the state. Even upscale
urban dwellers are not able to buy their own land; only the
house or apartment that sits on it for a 70-year lease. Farmers
and villagers are generally given only 30-year leases. Many
of the 90,000 or so demonstrations China has each year are related
to land rights.
Against
this backdrop, it’s little wonder China’s film authorities
would rather turn the public’s attention to a different
kind of message.
Enter
Confucius. Once vilified by Mao Zedong as a feudal counter-revolutionary,
Confucianism has more recently been promoted by China’s
leaders as a moral code for modern China, one that happens to
encourage respect for the existing hierarchy.
A core
part of Confucius’ original message was that leaders must
lead with benevolence and morality, must respect the law and
avoid corruption. Mao Zedong preferred the political philosophy
of Legalism, put forth by Hang Fei, a philosophical rival of
Confucius. Legalism emphasizes using the law as a tool to keep
the population under control, that everyone except the ruler
can be punished. It was a philosophy favored by many of China’s
emperors, who followed the policy of ru wai, nei fa, being outwardly
Confucian, but inwardly Legalistic, promoting the morals of
Confucianism to the general public to discourage challenge and
unrest, while using the law as a tool of control.
In
the film Confucius, a beatific Chow-Yun Fat as the
great man himself counsels leaders of warring states, “put
your country ahead of yourself,” and “without civility
a state will descend into chaos.” He also tells leaders
to be ethical and avoid corruption. One retorts, “Victory
and defeat are what matter, not ethics.”
As
a film, Confucius is neither entirely awful nor likely
to win international awards. It’s put together as though
the director doubted a film focused entirely on the inner life
of Confucius and his ideals could really hold a Chinese audience.
So instead of character development and complexity of plot,
the film offers elaborate period costumes and settings, and
the kind of epic, hi-tech-enhanced arrow-flinging battle scenes
that have become a staple in mainland Chinese films about ancient
China.
“I
think they were borrowing from Braveheart, except the
director of that movie did a better job,” sniffed a young
movie-goer named Mao, as she came out of one of the first showings
of Confucius at a Beijing cinema. But she said she
did find the story of Confucius touching.
Another
young woman said she didn’t know or care about Confucius’s
philosophy; she just wanted to see Chow-Yun Fat. As for reports
that Chinese authorities may be trying to limit how many Chinese
see Avatar, she said “that’s ridiculous.
I think we should all be able to watch whatever we like.”
And
now China’s state-run media accuses Google and US Secretary
of State Hillary Clinton of information imperialism for suggesting
more or less the same thing.
Reprinted
with permission from YaleGlobal Online
www.yaleglobal.yale.edu
(c) 2009 Yale Center for the Study of Globalization.
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