Apoyo social

China lives with its ideological past and present intertwined in complex, often inconsistent yet also apparently compatible ways, creating what Zhang Xudong has described as an open, hybrid, „experimental‟ post-socialism (2008, p. 10). As noted in the last chapter, this very hybridity could lead students into inconsistently defensive stances in their film-watching opinions in which their desire to become modern and

contemporary provoked a rejection of some of the products of modern hybridity, whether domestic or from abroad, especially those that seemed to imply a backward stereotype of China or threaten progress to that goal.

Students‟ defensiveness in these instances by no means represented a nationalist rejection of the foreign per se. Indeed, the pervasive culture of DVD and downloading among young educated Chinese bears witness to a positive enthusiasm to absorb and engage with globalised entertainment media and to bypass the constrictions of official domestic media‟s mainstream or „main melody‟ didacticism which, in the words of one official, has traditionally opposed „the trend to regard [...] enjoyment as superior to [political] orientation‟ (Y. Hong, 2002: 32). But, without denying film and television‟s function as a means of relaxation and leisure, it was evident from students‟ own

responses that they also recognised that an educational element is intrinsic to the medium.

From a theoretical perspective, as Zizek notes, „cinema doesn‟t give you what you desire, it tells you how to desire‟ (Fiennes & Zizek, 2006). Yet, in an increasingly open economy with its unofficial undercurrent of media piracy, there is undoubtedly a much wider range of messages than before to choose from. In a globally interpenetrated media world it therefore makes sense to study film from a consumers‟ perspective, as Higson and other film scholars have long suggested (1989, pp. 44-46; Yingjin Zhang, 2007, pp. 29-32), going beyond the conceptual boundaries of national cinema and, we might add, its equivalent in broadcasting systems.¹

1 Berry and Farquhar argue that the national cinemas approach with its assumption of a stable national cultural entity is no longer viable in the era of globalisation, particularly in the case of China with the added complexity of the distinctive positions of Hong Kong and Taiwan (2006, pp. 2-3). This leads to an analysis of cinema that is transnational, but this can be understood in two ways: either with the national

hierarchically subsumed under a wider notion of Chinese culture or alternatively envisaged in a non-hierarchical manner as a varied and contested field of differing yet linked elements (2006, pp. 4-5). The former retains a sense of unity and coherence, but only changes the ground on which it is based whereas the

Within this expanded choice, preferences for particular films, as I noted in chapter one, ranged across a wide spectrum. Nevertheless, there were a number of recurring, if sometimes conflicting themes in my informants‟ responses. Echoing their reaction to cultural hybridity, I will suggest that my students rejected not so much the didacticism in mainstream films but what they considered to be the wrong kind of didacticism. In their search for fresh messages or even old messages freshly presented, students‟ responses to the films they watched suggested, first, that they were seeking ways to sustain their faith under the pressurised yet contradictory post-socialist system that they found themselves in and, secondly, that they were looking for a vision of their own future that this faith might open up for them. I will therefore begin this chapter by discussing the role foreign entertainment media plays in bolstering the morale of students by reinforcing their belief in the value of pragmatism, hard work, and a certain „realism‟ in what I shall suggest is a broader depoliticising move which simultaneously has political implications. This will first involve looking at two instances of students‟ responses to films they watched in their classes, including ‘The Shawshank Redemption’ (1994), before considering the types of films students chose for themselves.

Credible Encouragement

Audience researchers have highlighted how watching „mere‟ entertainment can often be a contentious issue (Alasuutari, 1999a, p. 90; Bird, 2003, p. 1). Although my respondents watched for mainly for „relaxation‟ (Ye Rongbai – Int. 15), „for fun‟ (Yao Yang – Int. 2) and to „relieve pressure‟ (Wan Jiaying – E9/37), in common with other audiences around the world (see Hoijer, 1999, pp. 181-183), some of my students appeared guilty and defensive about their supposedly trivial viewing habits, as I noted in chapter three with viewers of Korean dramas. Under such social pressure and indeed perhaps a

consciousness of their higher educated status, it was clear from my research that the students I encountered liked to feel that they derived some educational and, in some respects, a moral benefit from their viewing, and in particular, a sense of encouragement to bolster their determination to persist towards to their goals in spite of pressures and

latter challenges the very basis of that unity. This is not to deny the real effects of that sense of unity but rather to note how it requires both constant reiteration and a degree of suppression of difference (2006, pp.

5-7).

moments of doubt. Indeed, although in reporting their preferences to me, students may in some cases have played down their viewing of escapist entertainment, if so, this would reflect the wider social circumstances in which their film watching took place and the messages they felt they ought to derive from them.

When I asked third year students at BLCU to write about their viewing preferences (Essay 2), across the range of films they mentioned, a number of themes could be discerned. Firstly, they liked films that they felt conveyed messages of persistence, self-belief and encouragement which provided what I call a „vaccination against disillusion‟. So-called „main melody‟ Chinese films and programmes that contained equivalent uplifting messages were rarely mentioned as favourites, and were generally not popular with most students who regarded them as overly politicised and lacking credibility. Films and dramas with a revolutionary theme, for example, were generally dismissed across a range of interviews and essays as „usually very boring‟

(Zhang Jie – Int. 14) and as I noted in chapter three, students tended to reject the idea of artists acting as teachers. Even a student who was a party member commented that

„sometimes Chinese films will [...] just present some good things to the audience‟ (Zhu Shuangru – Int. 16). But as I also described in chapter three, students largely rejected some of the alternatives to traditional „main melody‟ productions, whether blockbusters or costume dramas.² Thus my respondents tended to disparage Chinese films and drama series, either for overtly following the government‟s „main theme‟, or for ducking

„realism‟ altogether by being set, for example, in a falsified distant past (see Y. Hong, 2002, pp. 34-35).

A second strand of preferences that emerged from my student‟s responses was for films which I refer to as offering „creative alternatives‟ and „liberal possibilities‟. These allowed students to wander imaginatively to see other cultures and lifestyles as well as encounter, in films such as ‘Brokeback Mountain’ (2005) and ‘Mona Lisa Smile’ (2003), messages of social tolerance and resistance to conservative traditions. Through these preferences, it therefore appeared that my students were searching for a middle way between traditional propaganda messages and what they regarded as escapism or empty

2 The main exception to this was the comedies of Feng Xiaogang which some students mentioned liking (see chapter three).

entertainment. Instead, they were seeking a fresher alternative produced by Hollywood itself which combined an element of moral inspiration and learning, but in a more enjoyable and credible manner than most domestically produced material.

Moral Cultivation and ‘The Shawshank Redemption’

I will explore various facets of this search for a more credible alternative „main melody‟

throughout this chapter, but what particularly caught my attention during my

conversations with two students from Minzu University whom I interviewed separately, was that although most of what they watched was viewed on computer in their dorms, in a number of cases the films they raised with me had in fact been shown to them in their classes, and in particular, their political education classes. Although a specific case, this nevertheless fits in with a general trend within such courses to focus less on overt ideology through „thought work‟ (Marxist theory, party policy and so on) than on attempts to shape behaviour directly through offering apparently practical advice. As a Tsinghua University professor was reported admitting, simply trying to „pour‟ Marxist philosophy into students is „very difficult‟ in the current diverse social and economic environment (Z. Zhou, 2006). Not only is this an acknowledgment of the unpopularity of political education, but also an implicit recognition that if such classes were to be taken at face value, they might raise potentially awkward questions.³

One solution to these difficulties has therefore been to consolidate such courses across the university system from eight down to four whilst tilting the balance away from political-economy to less heavily theoretical historical topics and also more individually-oriented „Morality and Self-cultivation‟ classes.⁴ In spite of its obviously disciplinary intent, such morality classes also promise some utilitarian value as they centre around themes of persistence and self-discipline, with films sometimes used to both convey and spice the message. According to my interviewees from Minzu University some „main melody‟ Chinese films were shown in their Moral Cultivation classes in order to illustrate

3 According to Pan Su-yan, students at the elite Tsinghua University in Beijing not only found political courses dull but sometimes asked their politics lecturers whether they sincerely believed socialism was superior (Pan, 2009, p. 164).

4 Sixiang daode xiuyang: 思想道德修养

these topics, such as, ‘Zhang Side’,⁵ a 2004 biopic of Chairman Mao‟s self-sacrificing security guard. But, Hollywood fare was just as likely to be used.⁶ One student, for instance, recalled having being shown ‘The Shawshank Redemption’ (1994) three times in one year in both Criminal Law and English classes as well as her Moral Cultivation course. As she explained, in the case of Moral Cultivation, „they have to encourage us so they show the film‟ and so the message of the film, as she put it, was „not to lose heart in setbacks‟ (Wen Hongju – Int. 3). According to a boy from another department who attended the same class, the teacher showed the students this film at the point in the course that related to persistence, self discipline and maintaining a hopeful or positive outlook (Xiong Zhufei – Int. 4).

Like the US drama series ‘Prison Break’ with which it was sometimes compared, the film tells the story of an innocent man who, through much guile and persistence, manages to escape from brutal incarceration after 20 years of secret tunnelling in order to both win his freedom and expose the prison‟s corrupt governor. The lecturer‟s teaching point, according to my interviewees, was that „this hero [is] in an unfair situation, but he gets through by his own efforts and in the end realises his goal. [The teacher] told us if a person comes across difficulty, you should have this attitude...proper attitude‟ (Xiong Zhufei – Int. 4).⁷ Other students at BLCU who had watched the film on their own

initiative expressed similar sentiments. When asked to describe her film preferences, one of my essay writers said that she wished to thank the director because:

„Once I lose heart trying to overcome difficulty, I can remember his persistence, courage and belief. Then I will encourage myself to persevere. If Shawshank

5 „张思德‟

6 Students from BLCU told me that their Moral Cultivation class included a variety of films, including

‘Yuanmingyuan’ (2006), a documentary recounting the destruction of the Old Summer Palace by foreign forces in 1860, but also films and programmes on more practical topics such as how to how to prepare for job interviews. Informants said they appreciated the way the teacher gave them what they regarded as potentially useful advice (20^th Sep. 2010).

7 In a similar vein, a review of the film by Han Jinling of the Marxism-Leninism Education Department of Weifang College in Shandong highlights how „[the hero] Andy‟s intelligence lies in his ability to see who among the prisoners is out of the ordinary and can help him‟ and how he manages to use his previous banking experience to gain the favour of the corrupt governor when he needs an accountant to launder money. According to Han, with students facing increasing job competition as graduate numbers increase, Andy had become their idol and the film „deeply affected students‟ outlook on job hunting and careers‟

(2006, p. 72).

[sic]⁸ can do it, why can‟t I solve these relatively little problems? Gradually I have changed into a person who has will power and fortitude‟ (Bi Yufang – E2/2).

As I will show later, this theme of persistence recurred in response to a number of films students reported watching. However, what was striking in this case was that not only could a Hollywood film fit the requirements of Chinese political education, but that it could do so without recourse either to a nationalistic interpretation of a corrupt and brutal American prison system or, indeed, the race and class-based nature of the injustice;

unlike the white middle class escapee, most of the prisoners, including the black narrator, are lower class workers resigned to the inequity of the system. The lesson conveyed to students was therefore both individualistic and realistic in the sense that it made no attempt to disguise the implication that they themselves might come across injustice and corruption of one sort or another rather closer to home and that they would have to deal with it patiently.

Corruption, even if sensitive, is hardly a taboo subject in the Chinese media and public discourse, as can be seen in daily news reports or, for instance, television drama series since the mid-1990s. But, as Bai Ruoyun points out, these invariably feature a virtuous party official who eventually triumphs, thereby evoking the ancient imperial tradition of the „clean official‟ (R. Bai, 2008, pp. 48-49). In this way, support for party rule is mobilised even while depicting its shortcomings, though among Bai‟s audience interviewees, few thought that such clean officials existed in reality (R. Bai, 2008, p. 51).

Nevertheless, as he suggests, the portrayal of a determined stand against corruption can perhaps provide the kind of emotional realism identified by Ang as one of the keys to understanding the attraction of soap opera (R. Bai, 2008, p. 56). Indeed, without an admission that some within the system are corrupt – and without a means to re-channel the anger this generates – the party‟s appeal for loyalty would risk losing much of its credibility.

In the case of ‘The Shawshank Redemption’, there is no focus on „clean officials‟;

quite the reverse, as the prison‟s governor is corrupt and the system appears implacable.

According to my Minzu University interviewees, the message conveyed in their Moral

8 The main character is, in fact, named Andy Dufresne. Shawshank is the name of the prison.

Cultivation class was therefore that they should take heart and deal with social injustice by drawing on the inner resources that higher education provides. The key to the lesson‟s credibility rested on how the realistic didacticism of the educational message matched the film‟s apparently realistic depiction of violence and corruption. My interviewees

suggested that both they and their classmates generally appreciated the use of Hollywood in this way, first because „theory is very boring‟ (Xiong Zhufei – Int. 4) and secondly, because compared to Chinese films such as ‘Zhang Side’, it avoided the idealisation of socialist models and exemplars. Again, as Bai points out, although the anti-corruption investigator in the TV drama ‘Pure as Snow’ (2001), for example, is portrayed as sometimes losing his cool, in the end he accepts his superior‟s more rational, evidence-based approach (R. Bai, 2008, pp. 54-59). Ultimately, therefore, the difference between foreign and domestic popular entertainment, as my informant put it, was that in China it seemed as if

„Chinese people are always gentlemen. [...] I think such films are very interesting, but not realistic...In foreign films you can see good people or leaders, they also use dirty words...I am not saying this is a good thing, but it is films reflecting real life...‟ (Xiong Zhufei – Int. 4).

Student appreciation for foreign realism was another recurring theme, as I shall discuss further below. Yet, ironically, the central plot of ‘The Shawshank Redemption’

ultimately rests on the scarcely credible notion that a tunnel could be hidden for years in a prisoner‟s cell behind a flimsy poster of a film star. In that sense, it can be argued that the film plays a depoliticising role insofar as the American film‟s gritty, un-gentlemanly portrayal of everyday life offers plausibility to the attractive fantasy that cool intelligence and persistence will necessarily win in the end. To some extent, the American setting distances the injustice, but the very distancing facilitates its application to Chinese society.

So although Chinese viewers may not react fundamentally differently to viewers in other contexts – many other audiences have been reported as finding the film personally

inspirational (Gilbey, 2004)⁹ – we can nevertheless note that the appropriation of a foreign film provided the credibility for a (depoliticising) political message to be conveyed in the first place, largely because the Chinese industry is constrained from doing so quite as bluntly.¹⁰ As such, its surreptitious, but nevertheless, candid admission of systematic injustice was sufficiently fresh in the Chinese context to allow the fantasy resolution to be enjoyed, unlike the sugar coating of most „main melody‟ local films and dramas.

Vaccination against Disillusion

At least when films conveyed messages of encouragement that seemed fresh and credible, students did not therefore reject outright elements of didacticism but indeed sought them out when choosing what to watch. Key to this credibility was a measured dose of

imported „realism‟¹¹ that acted, I would suggest, as a kind of vaccination again loss of faith in the possibility of personal advancement and success within the current system, despite widespread private „incredulity‟ at the system‟s more familiar socialist

metanarratives of selflessness and collectivism (F. Liu, 2008, p. 196).¹² However, it is important to note that this acceptance of a didactic element to their viewing was not because students were the passive recipients of media messages, as assumed by the so-called „hypodermic model‟ of communications outlined in chapter one (see Jensen, 1991b, pp. 136-137; Morley, 1992, pp. 45-47; Spitulnik, 1993, p. 296), but rather because they felt free to accept or reject the medicine on offer – the relative freedom, and frankness, was one of the conditions of the medicine‟s acceptance.

9 The film achieved its success initially in the US, but later internationally, mainly through video and DVD rental as it performed poorly at the US box office, for although nominated for seven Oscars and generally well received by critics, it was initially overshadowed by the success of ‘Forrest Gump’ (1994) (Kermode, 2003, pp. 11-12).

10 As already noted, not all Chinese series and films shy away from confronting contemporary social realities, but they must do so within certain bounds if they are to be exhibited at home. ‘Lost in Beijing’

(2007), for instance, was only shown after making substantial cuts. Its screening licence was subsequently cancelled and its director punished after the deleted scenes were circulated on the internet and the uncut version had been submitted to the Berlin film festival (Martinsen, 2008b).

11 As Hallam and Marshment point out, „realism‟ comes in many forms, none of which can be regarded as having a straightforward correspondence to reality and therefore the concept is perhaps best analysed

11 As Hallam and Marshment point out, „realism‟ comes in many forms, none of which can be regarded as having a straightforward correspondence to reality and therefore the concept is perhaps best analysed