When discussing Asian dramas, the sheer scope of the subject can even confuse the most devoted viewers. VOD platforms have significantly popularized these works in the West, and films and series from the Korean peninsula have invaded our screens as well as prestigious recognition circles. The one-inch barrier of subtitles, as Bong Joon-ho aptly put it, has been broken.

Japan, for its part, overwhelmingly dominates the world of animation, thanks to years of Cool Japan: a government initiative launched in the 2000s to promote Japanese pop culture globally, particularly in anime, manga, and video games. In Asia, two other entertainment giants stand out: India, with its colossal Bollywood machine, and mainland China, enriched by the contributions of Hong Kong filmmakers who joined the country after the handover of the Special Administrative Region by the British a little over 25 years ago.

China, vast in population, size, and talent, adopts a protectionist approach that reduces the need to export its cultural production. Its domestic market is more than sufficient, and many Hong Kong and Taiwanese filmmakers, disillusioned by an American dream where they find themselves relegated to mere executors, turn to China’s enormous national market. The collaboration between mainland budgets and Hong Kong expertise has given birth to masterpieces such as Farewell My Concubine and Shanghai Triad. The early 2000s promised a golden age uniting Chinese talents into a cohesive bloc. Yet, this promise was never fully realized.

Today, the Middle Kingdom primarily focuses its efforts on television series, or C-Dramas, often longer and more complex than their Korean counterparts, with equally impressive budgets. These series explore all genres: modern, science fiction, historical, and most notably, the fan favorite: the harem drama.

The harem genre is often misunderstood. It is deeply rooted in Chinese culture, inherited from opera traditions. Empress in the Palace might be the most popular C-Drama of its time, and for good reason: it follows a classic archetype. Within the Forbidden City, concubines and empresses fight tooth and nail to dominate the harem.

Intrigue, murder, power struggles, tears, and wealth define this quintessential genre. More recently, Story of Yanxi Palace achieved phenomenal success before being criticized and partially withdrawn due to decency laws, although the exact reasons remain debated.

Contrary to the notion of purely repressive censorship, these laws align with a logic of economic and cultural orientation. By regulating production content, China seeks to promote values compatible with its social and economic objectives. Rather than stifling creativity, this approach encourages the consolidation of large companies capable of producing works that meet government expectations while reducing financial risks. Studios that survive this selection process become major industry players, attracting stable domestic investments and catering to massive local demand.

A striking example of this strategy is The Longest Day in Chang’an, a web series financed by dozens of private investors and distributed by platforms such as Youku. This model illustrates the emergence of a market where the quality and scale of productions can rival Hollywood, all while remaining rooted in a uniquely Chinese economic dynamic.

China’s focus on its domestic market and its efforts to minimize risk while building confidence in its reborn industry aim to create stable economic empires capable of withstanding external pressures. These giants, while shaped by the Party’s economic and cultural directives, embody a distinct Chinese method, different from Western practices. This model is based on a long-term strategic vision: to strengthen an autonomous film industry oriented toward internal consumption but capable of making a global impact when it serves its interests.

Thus, decency laws, far from being mere tools of censorship, function as instruments of industrial policy. They redefine the boundaries of creativity while ensuring economic and cultural competitiveness within a national framework where cinema becomes a vehicle for identity and power.

- yaro