China’s Wave of Crackdowns Hits the Entertainment Industry

Up until late August, Zhao Wei was one of the biggest stars in mainland China. Having shot to fame in the late 90s with the television drama My Fair Princess, the 45-year-old eventually became a household name, with a net worth of $1 billion. But almost overnight, the actress and singer was scrubbed off the internet. Her songs, as well as the many talk shows, television dramas and films she starred in, have since disappeared from streaming platforms, while other studios and production companies have dropped her name from cast lists of their productions.

Zhao is by no means the first celebrity to run afoul of Chinese authorities, but a lack of official explanation for her abrupt erasure has sparked wild speculations and sent a chill across the entertainment industry. Some observers pointed to a 2017 investment scandal involving Zhao and her husband that led to a 5-year ban from the Chinese securities market. Others wondered if Zhao was caught up in the crackdown on Alibaba, as the billionaire actress was a stakeholder in the group’s film company, Alibaba Pictures, and was seen on many occasions rubbing shoulders with the group’s now-disgraced founder, Jack Ma. Other celebrities, including fellow actors Huang Xiaoming and Yang Zi, were quick to distance themselves from Zhao, unfollowing her on social media and deleting mentions of her from their digital platforms.

But going forward, merely keeping a distance from blacklisted colleagues may not be enough for entertainers to protect their careers. China’s multi-industry crackdown, which to date has targeted public figures affiliated with the tech sector, is now coming for show business. The industry’s rich and famous are coming under closer scrutiny, meaning they will have to tread carefully in the future.

In a move to overhaul the entertainment industry, Chinese regulators have issued a slew of new guidelines on everything ranging from fan clubs and social media clout to management companies and actors’ salaries. The Cyberspace Administration began with a 10-point notice issued in late August, where it banned popularity rankings of artists and bands, as well as online arguments between music fans. It also vowed to clean up “fan club” social media groups—where fans share gossip and even raise money for celebrities—and regulate the sale of celebrity merchandise. The state anti-corruption watchdog soon followed by slamming “toxic celebrity culture” for advocating what it deems to be decadent values. “If not guided and changed, it’ll have a huge destructive impact on the future life of young people and social morality,” China’s Central Commission for Discipline Inspection said in a statement.

The National Press and Publication Administration recently introduced an even harsher rule, restricting online video game play for those under 18 to only one hour per day from Friday to Sunday, as well as on public holidays. Young gamers are required to register using their real names and government-issued identification documents under an “anti-addiction” system operated by the agency.

Last Thursday, the National Radio and Television Administration unveiled eight more regulatory measures, ordering broadcasters to rein in actors’ salaries and banning reality entertainment programs aimed at scouting and grooming prodigies. One policy drew particular attention to the “deformed aesthetics” of niangpao, a derogatory term referring to effeminate men, and called for the rejection of “sissy pants.” Broadcasters should “resolutely promote outstanding Chinese traditions, revolutionary culture and advanced socialist culture, and establish the correct aesthetic values in programs, strictly controlling the choice of guests and actors, their performance styles and appearances,” the watchdog said in a statement. The moral and political conduct of performers should also be criteria for selection, it added.

“Ultimately, it is part of a wider move to nationalize the private sector and restore control to the state,” Shu Kei, a veteran movie producer and the former dean of the film school in Hong Kong Academy for Performing Arts, told me in an interview. “The Chinese Communist Party fears and will not tolerate anyone or anything that has influence, particularly if it is strong enough to be a threat to the regime,” he added.

Once regarded as a bastion of freedom and openness, Hong Kong is no longer an exception to the draconian rules and regulations commonplace in mainland China. Though self-censorship has long crept in, a new proposed law—set to be rubber stamped by the Legislative Council in the near future—will make political censorship of films official. The law will require film censors to consider national security implications when reviewing films and give the chief secretary, Hong Kong’s No. 2 official, the authority to revoke screening permits. Those caught exhibiting unapproved films could be sentenced to three years in prison and fined up to 1 million Hong Kong dollars.

Domestic celebrities, particularly ones who look to the mainland Chinese market for a broader fanbase, are promptly falling in line. Amid rumors of a planned Chinese measure to sideline actors with dual or multiple citizenship, Hong Kong singer Nicholas Tse announced in an interview with the Chinese state broadcaster that he has applied to give up his Canadian citizenship.

According to Shu, an existing stipulation in professional contracts that requires actors to pledge allegiance to the country, ostensibly protecting them from any future ostracization, may soon be extended to all film workers regardless of their rank and title. “You only have two choices. If you don’t sign it, you will be erased. But even if you do, it is no guarantee of your safety,” Shu added.

In Other News

Fang Ran, a doctoral student at the University of Hong Kong, has been detained in mainland China on allegations of “incitement to subvert state power.” The 26-year-old was researching workers’ rights and labor empowerment when he was arrested by security agents in Guangxi province. “I’m very shocked because Fang Ran is not a criminal who is capable of causing damage to the party. But rather, a young man born with a purpose,” his father wrote in a social media post pleading for help and public support. The incident sparked a furor among Hong Kong academics about the safety and academic freedom of Chinese students.

*****

The prompt arrest last month of a male employee of the Alibaba Group after he was accused of sexual assault was praised as a moment of reckoning for the country’s sexist corporate culture, but the celebration was short-lived. Chinese prosecutors have announced that they have dropped the case against the employee, arguing that acts of forcible indecency do not constitute a crime. Meanwhile, Bloomberg News reported that Alibaba fired 10 staff members for leaking the female victim’s accusation, which was first posted on an internal discussion board and sparked public outrage.

Worth a Read

In a two-part series about Xi Jinping, Financial Times takes an in-depth look at the Chinese leader’s assertion of greater control over the Communist Party and the state. As capitalists and entertainment stars continue to be swept up in the latest purge, Tom Mitchell compares the recent social upheaval to similar political campaigns under Chairman Mao and whether Xi, who is laying the groundwork for a third term, is unleashing his own Cultural Revolution.

In part two, James Kynge and Sun Yu look at how China’s clampdown on the tech industry, including moves to collect information and strengthen data security, is establishing a techno-authoritarian state, whose use of technology in its governance is unprecedented in terms of scale and intrusiveness.

Rachel Cheung is a freelance reporter based in Hong Kong. Her work has appeared in The Los Angeles Times, The Washington Post and Nikkei Asian Review, among other news outlets, and she was previously a reporter at the culture desk of South China Morning Post.