Promoters for real estate opening parties spend tens of thousands of RMB to set the stage for potential homeowners. Magicians and mini-skirt wearing violin players are commonplace, but none earn even close as much as the coveted Anglo-Saxon musician/clown. The “White Monkey,” as some call the foreign performer, is the ultimate showpiece for any Grand Opening, be it for a multi-billion RMB high-tech zone or an apartment villa in the cabbage-picking boondocks.

Paid in Full

I’ll never forget my first “laowai” gig in the fall of 2008.

At that time I was a senior college student in a foreign study abroad program. Money was tight, I had an English teaching job in Wenjiang every Thursday (5 classes back to back) and two of the classes consisted of 45 screaming kindergarteners, who could barely speak Chinese let alone learn basic English words.

The gig was an anniversary party for the Great Wall Wine company at the InterContinental Hotel. If you could bottle wealth, I could have made a fortune from selling the air. The chandeliered lobby featured a seafood buffet and bottomless bottles of liquor served by scantily clad models. I remember not having a white collared shirt, so my agent provided a frilly disco-esque shirt and a pair of black leather shoes several sizes too small.

 Born to Rock

There were four musicians altogether:

• A trumpet player from Singapore
• American saxophone player
• Canadian guitarist, and
• Myself on bass guitar

None of us had ever practiced or rehearsed songs together. Naturally I was a bit nervous about embarking on such a half-assed endeavor in this classy venue.

“So we are playing Autumn Leaves, What a Wonderful World, a Paul Simon tune, all easy stuff.” The trumpet player instructed confidently.

“Oh, I played Autumn Leaves in college jazz combo, it’s like E minor, A minor, F# B7 etc.” I replied.

“Yeah well we have backing tracks so don’t worry too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know an mp3 without words, it’s like a sing-along” He replied, smiling and pulling back his ponytail.

I watched the lobby fill with bespectacled, balding Chinese men accompanied by women 20 years their junior.

The gig itself was painless, within a few bars of each song I figured out the general chord pattern and plunked out a bassline, which was muted by the overpowering backing track. After each two song “set” the crowd applauded and soon we were approached by tall girls in qipaos (traditional Chinese skirts) asking,

“Shuai ge, keyi pai zhao ma? “(Hey handsome, can we take a picture?)

Posing for photos, I felt like an instant celebrity in a pre-packaged Ren & Stimpy kind of way. If you wanted Rock-star-in-a–can this was the place for it. In this industry one’s musical skill is not determined by their chops but rather if your cable can reach the soundboard some 20 meters away from the stage.

Admittedly, the first couple “gigs” were exciting and new, but the novelty of the White Monkey Gig wears off quickly when one sees the sociological forces behind the whole fiasco.

Some people actually make a career out of this…

Class, Class, Class

Historically speaking, entertainers in China are typically members of the lower class. I’m sure you’ve seen a movie or three in which an underprivileged street kid joins a traveling theater troupe either to rise through the ranks or to be dealt a cruel dish of reality. Same goes for modern day performers, many with high hopes get stuck in the net of mediocrity.

Dream of becoming a famous cellist or classical musician? I hope you look hot in a mini-skirt and can play a techno version of the can-can on the violin.

Dream of leading a R&B group or jazz band on saxophone? Sorry buddy, only Kenny G covers are allowed.

By and large, musicians and entertainers bastardize their skills to get paid performing at Grand Openings around China. I’ve met dancers and musicians of extraordinary skill who are forced to conform to the cookie-cutter line-ups at these Openings. They go like this:

• First, the Water Drum girls followed by a foreigner band and then a magician
• Announcement, ceremony and then the saxophone guy
• Foreigner band Take Two, followed by hot girl with a violin
• Ending with angry looking models waiting to step back into Boss Wang’s BMW. Applause from the peasant masses or upper crust bosses
• End show

Racism and The Hunt

The MCs and agents are actually unscrupulous pimps that will sometimes hold off paying you until:

1. you give up
2. accept less than previously agreed upon
3. get intimidated into paying up in full

The phone call. (translated from Chinese)

“Hello Wei Lai we have a show on the 25th”

“I think I’m free, what time and where?”

“Sunday evening in Deyang. *(note location is likely to be 1-2 hours outside of whatever city is named)

“There are no Blacks or Chinese in your band?”

“No… why?”

“Oh nothing, who’s singing?”

“A girl from Spain, I think you’ve seen here before.’

“Oh right the skinny one”.

“Yeah,… ok so what’s the payment?”

“1200 RMB for two sets of 3 songs.”

“Sounds good, see you then.”

No blacks, no Chinese? What the hell? What if I was an American born Chinese that only knew how to say ni hao?

Anyone who looks remotely Asian wouldn’t be approached for these jobs. A white guy who only knows power chords would be picked for a gig over a guitar virtuoso with an Asian face.

Performers backstage at the gig waiting between shows

These days agents are a bit more opened minded about people with dark skin, however they are looking for a certain kind of dark-skinned musician; one with excellent music skills, good attitude and doesn’t seem “too African.” And sometimes they’re looking for the “Too African” stereotype.

Have Fun With It

A good friend of mine wrote a rock song about Sichuan Shao Kao (street barbeque), entitled “Basi De Hen” (Sichuan dialect for “Super cool”) which he performed regularly in 2009 at a bar in Jinli Street.

The chorus went:

Zui hao chi zui hao wan, shao kao ni shi wo de ai ren (“The most delicious, the most fun. BBQ you are my true love“)

I played this song with him for a crowd of 10,000+ in a suburb of Chongqing and had the place roaring. The peasants jumped the barrier and reclaimed the seats cordoned off for” VIP” guests. The lethargic security weren’t able to control the mayhem. Fireworks went off on stage, fog machines belched smoke and soap bubbles. It was rock and roll, baby.

If the setting is right, the audience will get into the music, especially the Chinese songs. Recently some friends and I performed a rendition of “Chun Tian Li” at a banquet dinner for a medical supplies conglomerate at a Chengdu hotel. The whole place was singing along, toasting baijiu glasses in the air and swaying their heads to the thumping E string on the chorus. The vibe continued throughout our bluegrass and funk tunes and we were asked for an encore. Perhaps there is room for baijiu banquet rock stars, after all.

Gotta Pay the Bills

My roommate, a Spanish-speaking university student about to graduate from Sichuan University said,

I can’t teach English and there are few opportunities for Spanish-teaching jobs. How else can I pay for rent? I’m forced to be an actor!

A good friend of mine and guitar player from Japan proclaims,

We’d never have these “Laowai gigs” in Japan. The people would just laugh at you. Why do the Chinese spend so much money on bad entertainment? Only professional musicians have performances in Japan.

Although I hate the system, it’s got me under its thumb. I sold out.

Alas, for now these types of jobs are my most lucrative income; the US stock market sunk, I graduated in 2009 into a jobless economy. I’ve worked in China for 2 years, as struggling writer and editor who will try anything aside from teaching English to make ends meet.

I try to justify doing these gigs by knowing that I’ll save money and use my experience in China to eventually work on environmental law and policy consulting in Asia.

For example, last year I saved up money up money from White Monkey jobs in hopes of doing independent media reporting at the G20 summit in Seoul. Unfortunately, my passport was stolen, so the trip was canceled, and using the refunded money I got a huge tattoo instead.

What say you? Are White Monkeys justified? Are they sell-outs? Let us know what you think in the comments below.

Disregarding self-aggrandizing lunatics like Zhao Bandi, the discussion online (where discussions are their most “public”) revolves around a few questions:

Let’s take a closer look at these questions below:

If You Have to Ask …

For many commentators, the answer to the first question is simple. Censorship, rote learning and a politicized movie industry prevent great works with international appeal from coming out of Mainland China — Farewell my Concubine being one notable exception. Posts like this on Douban are representative of this view:

There are other works which follow the same theme, like writer NanQiao for the Oriental Morning Post’s, “A Look at How Hollywood Plays the ‘Chinese Elements’ Card,” which also goes a bit deeper into the issue. He begins by asking the question that every Chinese engaged with this topic is asking:

It seems that “stealing culture” is not the only thing that galls. When Hollywood (i.e. foreigners) can profit off of stealing culture, then the discussion becomes heated and a solution must be found. NanQiao is not the only one mentioning the profit issue. Virtually every discussion mentions that “they’re making money off of us” — this is a very important aspect of the discussion because the importance of profit can come from a few different points of view:

1. They’re turning our culture into a product to be packaged and sold!
2. They’re making money off of us! It should always be the other way around!
3. Not one Mainland Chinese movie has come even close to making the same amount of cash that Hollywood movies have made in the Chinese market
4. Movie tickets in China aren’t cheap. An average ticket for Kung Fu Panda 2 costs more than 100RMB, while the average salary hovers around 2,500 per month for young people. Going to the movies is a luxury for the average person.

NanQiao answers his question by discussing “cultural strength” (文化强势) and the ability of Hollywood to recognize and synthesize (what Americans feel to be) worthy cultural elements into a seamless narrative and the inability of Chinese films to do the same:

For NanQiao, a clear and confident idea of what is culturally valuable determines a culture’s strength vis a vis another, therefore America’s clarity and China’s confusion lead to an imbalance in cultural strength ie much higher profits for Hollywood movies.

Chengdu in the Limelight

For the answer to the second question, lets first take a look at Chengdu’s reaction to the movie. The first Kung Fu Panda movie came out in June of 2008, not even a month after the Wenchuan Earthquake. At the time Chengdu was very worried about its image and as tourism numbers fell to 2003 levels, they were looking for something to help reverse the bad press.

So they extended an invitation to Dreamworks CEO Jeffrey Katzenberg and his team to come out to Chengdu and see what a real panda looks like. Katzenberg immediately agreed and took a trip out to the Panda Breeding Center (who promptly named one of their pandas after Po). During the making of Kung Fu Panda 2, the municipal government again extended an invite and the whole film crew including art director Raymond Zibach visited the city.

They stopped at Kuan Zhai Xiangzi, Qing Cheng Mountain, Dujiangyan and Jinsha (slurping up some noodles and hot pot along the way). The story was already done by the time the team arrived in Chengdu, but their experiences in the city inspired them to re-do some of the animation and insert dandan noodles, elements from the breeding center and Kuan Zhai Xiangzi and a lot of the scenery from Qing Cheng Mountain.

Qingcheng Mountain, located an hour outside Chengdu, is a center of Daoism and host to countless temples

The city of Chengdu practically gloated over this “free press” — in an article written for China Business, Peng Ge and Pei Yu elaborate on the efforts by the Chengdu Municipal government to get elements of the Du into the movie:

The authors go out of their way to show that the government did not spend a single penny on the “free PR” they received from the movie, despite mentioning a “person in the know” who said that the cost for this PR was around the RMB3million mark. It is safe to assume that the government expected to pay for having parts of Chengdu’s culture portrayed in the film, because Hebei Province happily invested in the movie Aftershock, about the Tangshan earthquake of 1976. So when Katzenberg said that he would put scenery from Chengdu into Kung Fu Panda 2 “as a gift to the children of the disaster zone” and when Zibach gushed that “I was so delighted and moved by Mt. Qingcheng that I insisted it be a major feature of the sequel,” the city of Chengdu was taken aback:

For the Chengdu government, Kung Fu Panda and it’s sequel are direct representations of the culture and beauty of the city. The pandas, the mountain scenes, all of the streetside vendors — according to their PR releases, these were directly inspired by Chengdu. The government’s goal was PR and ultimately profits, so for them the elements of China within the movie were not only adequate, but outstanding (in part because they “didn’t cost a penny”).

But for many netizens, including NanQiao, Kung Fu Panda 2 is very much an American movie and lacks the strong ties to Chinese culture that the first installment had. The jury is still out.

The scenery and setting were very Chinese, but the main character Po is very American. The peacock and the Master are quintessential Chinese characters, but the heroic stand at the end is considered an “America! F*ck Yeah!” type of moment, even though Po used Qing Cheng Mountain Tai Qi. All across the web there are comments that range from “They know us better than we know ourselves!” to “It’s an American kid dropped into the middle of China!”

As we can see here, there seems to be a disconnect between what is and is not Chinese culture and what is and is not valuable. For the city of Chengdu and Hebei Province, PR and the possibility of increased tourism adds value to the cultural elements within a film; for the average Chinese netizen, the answer is still unclear.

Asking the Wrong Question

For years Chinese have been told that their culture is not only unique, but that nobody else out there can really compare with or even fully comprehend the depth of China. When Chinese find out that, actually, some things are universal and that, yes it is possible to understand the deep values of Chinese culture precisely because they are universal then a whole new round of soul searching ensues.

Laughter is universal. When I watched the movie last weekend, I laughed my ass off and so did everyone else in the theater. Even when the jokes were pure-Jack Black slapstick.

Pain is universal. When Po’s mom left the little guy and he said “mama?” the whole theater fell silent and I felt the tears come. Somebody nearby was sobbing.

Inner peace is universal. When Master Shifu catches a drop of water off of the cliff face and guides it intact onto a leaf, demonstrating the power of inner peace, I knew exactly what he meant, even though I am neither Taoist, Chinese nor a Tai Qi master.

These elements were placed within a Chinese context and nothing more. If anything, the scenery itself helped bend the American cultural elements within the film, not the other way around. As I left the theater last week, I asked one of the ushers if he had watched the movie and he said of course several times. Then he said:

I could only smile at the irony there.

Kung Fu Panda is a movie that is first and foremost a Creation, inspired by the very best of China. Perhaps the discussions the film has engendered across the Chinese blogosphere will lead to a clarification of what is truly valuable about Chinese culture.

“Simplest thing in the world. I bought a dish for less than one hundred yuan, and then a box for another 500 yuan and I pay around 500 yuan a year for my service.”

So for less than 1,000 yuan a year (roughly equivalent to $150 dollars), my friend receives all of the channels he wants, more or less, in his home in a Chengdu suburb. Since that morning with him, I am determined to get my own satellite TV in my home so I can watch Skinemax anytime I want. For cheap.

When I did a bit of research, I realized that, sure, if I were good with electronics, I could scrounge around the back alleys of the local electronics markets and find everything I would need for my own home entertainment system. But there are a number of websites that have already thought of everything and will come and set up your own system, with all of the channels you might need, for just a little bit more than my friend paid.

Satellite TV Beamed to Your Front Door

Then last week I opened my mailbox and found two small advertisements (images below which details their services; sorry, Chinese only) that offer installation services from 1,500 yuan, depending on how many channels I want. That is one advantage of living in Shanghai: in Chengdu you might have to scrounge around a bit for the parts and basically its a DIY operation, but here in the Hai, there are dozens of companies that will do it for you.

Check this place out. Not only do they offer an array of different satellite services (Phillipines-based, Vietnam-based, HK-based) but they have a forum, resource guide and their English is excellent. These guys are pros, and they’ll hook you up in Chengdu as well. Here’s another pretty sophisticated company with an office in Shanghai. They too offer a wide range of services in impeccable English. Not tailored specifically to your needs? No sweat, there is the HBOCN Family Package for those who need Nickolodean along with everything else.

One of the flyers I received in my mailbox offering satellite services among other things

Skinemax, baby, that's what I'm after!

Obviously, the main market for these Shanghai based satellite hustlers consists of expats who aren’t trying to watch re-re-runs of Journey to the West, or some dramatic re-enactment of Chinese bravery in the face of Japanese aggression, or yet another period piece with stolid gong fu guys and whiny women. Standard television sucks, in my opinion, but none as hard as Chinese TV.

But all that’s changing. According to studies, the market for satellite TV equipment (dishes and related items) will reach into the billions within two years.

Isn’t This Illegal?

Yeah. And so is prostitution, graft, turning left on a red light and spitting. Owen Fletcher writes about the government’s efforts to curb the gray market in satellite dishes by … introducing regulations … that will force all suppliers to register every dish they sell:

“China’s broadcasting regulator this month revealed rules that appeared aimed at checking the spread of both types of satellite TV. The regulations require companies that install satellite equipment to buy permits under a system that would track all dishes sold in the country. They ban satellite receiving equipment on open markets.”

But (surprise!):

“The new rules may have little effect. The regulator, China’s State Administration of Radio, Film and Television, lacks the power over local government branches to enforce the rules nationwide …”

CCTV in California

According to Peter Brown, writing for the Asia Times, China’s recent launch of their own satellite, Zhongxing-9, represents the government’s efforts to spread their message into the deeper, darker recesses of the Chinese hinterland as well as provide a free alternative to Chinese currently paying for service that includes foreign channels.

At the same time, China hopes to beam their TV to millions of households outside of China, stimulating domestic production companies while at the same time continuing to limit foreign penetration into the TV market as best they can. Direct TV in California has already agreed to sell CCTV-4 to the more than 1 million Chinese living in their area.

Truly, I don’t care who watches CCTV, as long as it isn’t me. As soon as I found out that satellite TV was about as illegal as anything else is here in China and that at least 40 million people are already enjoying Southpark as opposed to digging their eyeballs out in front of standard Chinese commercials, I made my decision.

I bet I can get the local cops to watch Weeds with me.

Although the exact details of the move by the China Film Group Company are unknown — as in when exactly and why — it makes sense that the censors would finally catch up to the Avatar-hype and shut it down.

Since the movie came out people have been standing in lines waiting to get a seat, going once, twice and thrice to see the movie, paying big money each time, and then discussing it with their friends. The overwhelming response has been awe and delight coupled with social and political commentary.

Chinese people see the movie as a reflection of what is going on all over China: the destruction of homes and buildings in order for real estate companies and local officials to cash in. The new rich take over the housing at ever increasing prices and destitute peasants are evicted and forgotten. Blogs and forums across the nation have been talking about this issue and the extraordinarily beautiful way Cameron’s 3D epic brings this message across.

Another factor is the domestic release of Confucius, starring Chow Yun-Fat — which happens to be this Friday.

Confucious has no fear of Avatar

Confucius is a legendary philosopher and for many people around the world, one of the first people they think of when they think of China. The movie has received little hype in the media and many people in the Chinese film industry worry that the film will flop if forced to compete with Avatar. Confucius’ ideals also jibe much better with the Chinese government’s goal of “rightly guiding the people’s opinion,” because one of his main ideas was to obey the authorities, from the Emperor all the way down to the “man of the house.” Confucius ideal gentleman was an upright, moral individual who served his state well and took care of his family the way a “classic, traditional” man should. This is the message the government wants to put out, not Avatar’s message of hope, rebellion, and courage in the face of profiteering greed and environmental devastation.

If China Film pulls Avatar from 2D theaters, that effectively removes the movie from China because there are few theaters in China presenting Avatar in it’s 3D format — in total, less than fifty. The “rumor” was first posted in blogs and chat rooms in Wuxi, after the Wuxi IMAX theater announced its plans to pull the movie, then exploded across China when Danwei.org picked it up and published the news in English.

With all of the hype already surrounding Avatar and the countless online threads dealing with the destruction of homes issue that has Chinese up in arms, it’s hard to imagine the move eliciting a positive reaction from netizens. One can only assume that the government is mobilizing the Five Cent Gang to hit the forums hard, pushing nationalism through idealization of one of China’s greatest thinkers, Confucius, to swing public opinion away from the plight of the blue-skinned Navi in Hollywood’s import.

Note: The Five Cent Gang article authored by David Bandurski for the Far East Economic Review is blocked in the mainland and you’ll need to a VPN to access it.

What do you think?

I’m in a theater only a few minutes walk from my apartment, watching Avatar in 3D. The theater is large and luxurious, the sound is booming, and I’m warm and comfortable even though it’s freezing outside. I got here late so I’m seated in the front row, which means I hear gasps of awe and delight by the hundreds as lush 3D scenery pops off the screen.

As the first subway line in Chengdu prepares to go into operation and China unveils the worlds fastest train, I’m constantly reminded of how quickly China is changing.

After five years, you’d think that I’d have come to peace with this observation long ago, but the truth is that like many people, I have a romanticized perspective on China. Every once and a while an event like watching Avatar in 3D is a slightly jarring reminder that in a lot of ways, Chengdu (a “second-tier” city in China) isn’t far behind my home of Washington, DC.

Chengdu is known for it’s history, culture, and charm, not it’s 3D Hollywood blockbusters. But following James Camerons visit to China, Avatar is taking the country by storm. Hollywood studios have come to rely on droves of new fans (and dollars) in countries with eager movie-goers like China and Russia – and judging by the gasps of joy coming from behind me, this is a theater full of delighted customers. With its awe-inspiring visual effects, Avatar undeniably wowed the theater. But I wonder if, while wearing goofy googles and watching Avatar in 3D, they have succinct moments of this realization as I do.

As the credits roll on this epic 160-minute film begin to roll, I get out of my first row seat not feeling a bit of discomfort. The theaters seats, even this close to the massive screen, are really comfortable.

When I exit the theater complex I notice the street littered with the citys discarded refuse, waiting to be collected by cleaners who come in the middle of the night. The city sleeps as an army of migrant labor workers wearing bright orange suits collect the citys trash, tossed carelessly to the ground by the citizens of Chengdu. The street cleaners collect a monthly wage of $60 for cleaning up the half-eaten popcorn bags of people who watch Avatar in 3D. As they drop their trash on the street in plain view of others, they aren’t acknowledging their responsibility to keep the streets clean because there are poorer people who are charged with that duty. They don’t question it, those are just the rules.

On my walk home I pass a rickety building which looks ready to collapse. It sells fake name-brand luggage and it’s directly across the street from an opulent shopping mall with Prada and and Ralph Lauren stores. Further down the same street cracks in a crumbling wall turn into a lively alley where glasses clink and dice roll in the summertime – but in a year, this alley and these people will be gone. Gone because the land will be sold to someone who will develop it into a profit-earning tax machine.

There’s only accurate way I can think of to describe China in moments like these: a land full of stark and fascinating contrast that trumps the best that Hollywood has to offer.

…Still, you should really see Avatar, it’s incredible.

A remake of the 1984 film titled Red Dawn, which depicted a Soviet invasion of the US starring Patrick Swayze, is coming out later this year. If you haven’t seen the original film you should. Not only because it features a young Ghost-era Swayze but because the story is about high school students fending off a Soviet invasion of small-town America.

In 2010 with the worldwide economic crisis on everyone’s tongue, and the US in danger of insolvency with China as one of it’s largest creditors, the Communist paranoia fad is back with a vengeance.

I’m giddy with anticipation to see a “group of teenagers band together to save their town from an invasion of Chinese forces”, but I have a feeling that this movie, like 2012, will promote a lot of inaccurate and hilarious stereotypes. Honestly though, to separate this movie from its camp roots would be would be unfaithful to the source material. Before the Soviet empire collapsed this must have seemed like a terrifying scenario but looking back on it, it appears cartoonishly implausible and lends the movie a renewed comedic spirit.

Surreal depiction of a "Chinese / American Friendship Center" in Red Dawn 2010

Judging from these photos, the 1984 films successor appears to at least match the ludicrous plot of the original which included Russian paratroopers landing just outside the window of Patrick Swayze’s high school classroom.

Official insignia of the PLA

Let me guess what happens: China hacks a computer and flies the largest invasion force Earth has seen to American shores, undetected, and takes control of the continental United States as its well-armed populace concedes to an economically superior China.

I’m not looking forward to this movie to see what happens as much as how it happens. What do 60′s style propaganda posters look like in 2010? How would an invaded American citizenry react? If what many Conservatives in the United States think of their own African-American president is any indication, I don’t see concession in the cards.

The logo you see featured prominently on these posters is that of the People’s Liberation Army, and the characters within the logo (八一) mean 8-1 which is the date of the 1927 Nanchang Uprising. It was on this day that Kuomintang and Communist parties first battled (over Nanchang, capital of Jiangxi province) and is recognized as the anniversary of the People’s Liberation Army.

The new iteration of Red Dawn is the directorial debut of stunt coordinator Dan Bradly who’s filmography includes Spider Man 3 and The Bourne Ultimatum, among many others.