It Ain't Blockbuster
I’ve had a few months now to think about the DVD industry here and I’m not sure that I’ve really figured out anything. In fact, I probably have more questions now than when I started.
Before coming to China I read the occasional article on the piracy problem but never truly understood the scope of it. While some steps are being taken, such as drafting and interpreting laws to benefit intellectual property owners, they can seem like band-aids from where I stand. I thought that buying authentic software and alcohol was difficult. Buying legitimate movies on DVD is practically impossible.
There is no shortage of variety. I’d venture to say that I can watch a hit movie in my home before the lines are short enough for you to consider seeing it in an American theater. It’s just that I never know what I’m getting. I had to buy the new James Bond movie three times before I got one that wasn’t in Russian. Even the third one started in English and switched to Russian about one third of the way through. That’s common enough that I’ve become familiar with Russian menu commands, but these were in Russian only, with no other options. The details on the packaging mean squat. They all said that it was in English, and there wasn’t even any Russian on the box. I guess you’re always going to take a few risks when you pay US$1 or less for a movie.
Pirated movies produced in China are probably available worldwide. From the variety of languages I’ve gotten on my disks, they can’t simply be made for the foreigners living locally. I find it hard to believe that there are enough Danes or Greeks living here to justify dubbing movies for them. I think the local merchants simply get the excess production, which would explain the variety. My favorite to date was Ukranian/Spanish. What possible place would have those two languages as the most popular? The permutations are endless – I could watch practically any movie with the vocals in one language and the subtitles in another. I’ve listened to Salma Hayek speak in Russian and read along in the Indonesian language.
Some of the most interesting movies are the low-budget productions that weren’t worth stealing by normal methods, since the movie is so bad that no one is clamoring to see it. When a B movie eventually comes out on disk for foreign markets, six months or so after its initial release, the Chinese market disc is taken and copied for redistribution to the English speaking market. It gets a little confusing from here, so don’t try to follow this after a couple of drinks.
Pirate A buys or steals a disc containing the Chinese version of a third rate American movie that most people have never heard of. Because American film companies decided that there was little reason to include the English voice track, the Chinese pirate must now re-translate the dialogue back into English, as well as most other languages. The same goes for the subtitles. Since English is the most common, worldwide language, it’s usually in the mix somewhere. Since this is a B movie that will have limited sales potential it obviously doesn’t justify the expense of a fully qualified translator(s).
The child’s game of Chinese Telephone was accurately named. What I end up trying to watch often defies description. It’s as if someone slipped me a horse tranquillizer, gave me a bottle of bourbon and passed me the joint. I’m sorry to keep using Salma in this way, but her movie was the most glaring example. The first time through (or part way through) it was all Russian. I hadn’t yet figured out Russian menu commands. Once I got the hang of it, I tried it again.
After a few moments I realized that I couldn’t make sense of the dialogue, even though they were using English words. There were statements like “Tomorrow you gave me necklace so dog hate his eyes.” I was pretty sure that the quality of Hollywood script writing had not dropped quite that far. I went back to the menu, activated the English subtitles and started once again. Now I could watch Salma in a cat fight with Penelope Cruz (worth the price, regardless of whether I could understand a word) saying “I love he hair yours horse where go?” while reading “Knife not where. You hour what time be done?” Apparently they use independent translators for the voices and subtitles. Why use cheap ones and then pay two of them? I don’t have a clue.
The language problem applies to the packaging as well. The original packaging is apparently also Chinese, retranslated into English. This results in the display of that great Civil War movie “Gold Mountain” and the HBO series “Rome, Season Tow.” We even have original, non-authorized reviews on the packaging, often trashing the movie that they’re trying to sell you. (I told you that Chinese marketing skills had a long way to go!) Apparently they just add any old review they come across. One said something along the lines of “Don’t bother making popcorn; you won’t make it past the first ten minutes of this stinker.”
In a miserable display of timing, we have this week off for a national holiday and can’t do anything. All next week is dedicated to mid-term exams and I’m forced to study rather than travel. Not only is the language hard enough to give you occasional nightmares, but the contradictions are driving me crazy.
Our textbooks randomly throw in words that the teacher tells us are commonly used only in Beijing. We learn to pronounce words that are only used in writing, never spoken orally. Most irritating is that we must learn to write words that are only used in conversation, never written. Imagine a glass of beer. You verbally call it beer, but in writing it’s called worm. Worst of all, there are no indications in the text that this is the case. We’re just supposed to know this somehow.
I had my first surprise home visit from the local housing committee the other night. I had been watching a movie and drinking a couple of beers when I heard a knock at the door. I found a uniformed guard and four party officials, all there to check on whether I had my official residency permit. It was a little intimidating, since I knew that the fines could be hefty and I could be deported unless I produced it. I could think of at least three places I might have put it, thinking “I’ll never lose it there!” I asked them to wait a moment and started to panic.
The weather has been great of recent and I had all of the windows open to air the place out, creating a nice little breeze. What I didn’t anticipate was that this would slam the door in the head honcho’s face. Since he was craning his neck to see how weird foreigners live, I was relieved it hadn’t knocked him out. I eventually found the permit and satisfied them all that I was legal. Thank God I didn’t listen to the landlord when he insisted on not getting the permit, as taxes would need to be paid.
Everyone knows that China has a low cost workforce and a large number of unappealing jobs, but two really caught my eye the other day. They will start off my research of candidates for Worst Job. In a few high-end night clubs there are bathroom attendants who go far beyond the American job description. Some, without asking, will start giving neck and shoulder massages to men standing at the urinal. I don’t know too many men who would not be startled. I’m sure quite a few simply jump and, without thinking, turn around to face their attacker. That employee had better be damn quick on his feet to stay dry and unbeaten.
The related job that is probably even worse is held by the guy who gives shoe shines at the urinal. Here’s a guy who runs the risk of irritating two urinating men just a foot from his head. Even if they turn out to be unusually accepting of unexpected strange behavior such as this, he is still forced to endure the dreaded splashback. He just might make the perfect poster-boy for the stay in school campaign.
Last but not least. I couldn’t resist mentioning another search that led to my blog. Keep in mind that pi jiu is Mandarin for beer. Someone entered the search terms Chinese + beer + mother + pi + jiu + fart. I’m still trying to figure out what they were hoping to find.
