"May our friendship last!"
"May you make even better films!"
In the office, Chen Qi shook hands with the Singapore-Malaysia distributor, and the two quickly reached an agreement.
Singapore was small in land and people. Split off from Malaysia, the two places were bound by deep ties, and film distribution was usually taken on entirely by one major distributor. Singapore-Malaysia had always been a chief export market for Chinese-language films, but the market itself was limited, and prices did not move much.
Tai Chi 1 had gone for 150,000 U.S. dollars, and Tai Chi 2 for 200,000. Chen Qi did not haggle. The Chinese of Malaysia were fine people.
Fifteen percent of 200,000 was 30,000 dollars.
Next came Kim Min-yong of South Korea.
As told earlier, when it came to the overseas drawing power of Chinese film stars, Jackie Chan stood in a class of his own. He could make a go of it anywhere. Other countries and regions had to be sorted out one by one. The Japanese, for instance, were very fond of Yuen Biao, while South Koreans loved Li Lianjie, Liu Dehua, Chow Yun-fat, Zhang Guorong...
Yes, that was right. South Koreans really liked Liu Dehua, and they liked Wang Zuxian too. Zhou Xingchi did not fare well on the whole. His comedies could not travel overseas; not until Shaolin Soccer and Kung Fu Hustle did he finally succeed abroad.
Li Lianjie was one of the Chinese film stars most popular in South Korea. He had never taken the annual box-office crown in Hong Kong, yet his fee was second only to Jackie Chan's, precisely because he sold tickets overseas—and he was immensely popular in Taiwan Province as well.
"Aigoo!"
"You truly are the benefactor fate sent me! Because I bought your film, I've made a name for myself at the company..."
The moment Kim Min-yong came in, he launched into extravagant flattery in that distinctive lilt of his, and a thick whiff of that Korean bangzi air hit Chen Qi full in the face. He fanned it away and snarked to himself: Your honorable country was founded on an American military base—is the body politic in good health? Is Little General Jeon all right? Has Roh Moo-hyun debuted yet? Shall I shoot Spring in Seoul for you?
"Please, sit!"
He gestured. Kim Min-yong sat opposite and went on heaping praise, yet he never once mentioned a price. Chen Qi was in no hurry either. He drank his tea at his leisure.
After a good ten minutes of yakking, Kim Min-yong saw that Chen Qi still would not take up the thread. He trailed off sheepishly and said, "We are very willing to buy the rights to Tai Chi 2. How about the same price as the first film—300,000!"
"Double," Chen Qi said.
"Six hundred thousand U.S. dollars? No, no, no. Impossible!"
Kim Min-yong's head shook like a pellet drum. "Not one distributor in our country has ever brought in a foreign film at that price. We will not take the risk either."
"But I hear Tai Chi is very popular in your country. Honestly, the first film was still a bit thin. The second adds a great deal—the late Qing, foreigners, the shock of Western marauders, the search for a way to save the nation and its people... You will be able to follow it, and the fighting is even better. Doubling the price is absolutely not too much."
Why could period kung fu films sell in East and Southeast Asia?
Because many of those places had been deeply shaped by Chinese culture, and some even belonged to the same Confucian cultural sphere, so audiences understood them. The most Korea ever paid for Hong Kong rights was in the nineties. Films starring the top few stars generally went for over a million U.S. dollars.
This was ten years short of that, and Chen Qi was not asking to sell for a million.
They wrangled for a long time. He bit down on 600,000 and would not let go, until Kim Min-yong finally set his jaw. "As you wish—600,000!"
"Good! This film is absolutely worth the money."
"I hope so!"
Kim Min-yong shook Chen Qi's hand and, just as last time, took another gamble.
Next was Shinji Nakamura.
Before the mainland market rose, Japan had always been the world's second-largest film market, and its second-largest music market as well. Japan's entertainment industry was highly developed, and extremely closed.
Very few products could be brought in. Their anime and games, by contrast, sold all over the world. That really was impressive.
These past few days, Chen Qi had been sorting out Tai Chi 1's box-office results across the Western world.
It was very popular in some countries. Admissions in Poland had reached an astonishing 12.78 million, and admissions in Bogotá, capital of Colombia, had also passed 100,000, while in the United States, the United Kingdom, and places of that sort the results were mediocre.
The U.S. theatrical gross was around 1.5 million.
Videotape rentals, though, were decent. In a market that had only just gotten underway, the film had at one point broken into the top ten.
The fellow from 20th Century Fox had bought the rights for Western Europe, North America, Australia, and the like. Add videotapes and cable television, and on the whole he was still making money, but his appetite for the second film was not as strong as Japan's or South Korea's.
That was also why Chen Qi meant to turn to shooting contemporary action films.
This time, he was putting the largest share on Japan. Japan had money!
Jackie Chan's films could sell in Japan for three to five million U.S. dollars.
Shinji Nakamura came in, chatted politely for a few lines in oddly pronounced English, and was not as stingy as the previous two. The first film had cost him a million, and for the second he raised the offer himself. "1.5 million!"
Seeing that Chen Qi said nothing, he added, "We have already shown great sincerity!"
"You have. But I think two million is the more reasonable price."
"Two million? No, no. That's outrageous!"
"Tai Chi 1 took in 3.6 billion yen in Japan. You made at least nine million U.S. dollars. Not outrageous in the least."
"The first film is the first film, and the second is the second. You cannot guarantee the second will do as well. Films are far too risky, and chance counts for too much. You ought to know that."
They talked for a long while and remained deadlocked. Chen Qi said, "Think it over. We'll talk again tomorrow. If it doesn't work out, I can only go to Toei or Shochiku."
Japan had its Big Five: Toho, Toei, Shochiku, Nikkatsu, and Kadokawa.
Toho was the leader, but the others were hardly weak.
"..."
Shinji Nakamura knitted his brows, struggling with himself.
Judging by the quality of the trailer, Tai Chi 2 was still of a very high standard and would certainly make money in Japan. Paying a two-million buyout would only mean earning a little less. He did not dare decide on his own. He needed to ask his superiors.
"I'll consider it!"
"All right!"
Last was Thailand.
There was nothing much to say about Thailand. Its size was plain to see. They closed at 120,000.
Reckoned this way, all at fifteen percent—Singapore-Malaysia 30,000, South Korea 90,000, Thailand 18,000, Japan 300,000—the total came to 438,000 U.S. dollars, a little over 700,000 in RMB.
The going exchange rate was roughly one U.S. dollar to 1.7 RMB.
That was the official posted rate. In practice, well... those who knew, knew...
With an extra sum in hand, before the money came back, if he had another film to make he would not be quite so strapped. His funds could be a bit easier, and when he wrote his report there would be results to put down.
That was right. When he returned to the mainland, he would certainly have to turn in a report.
Xiao Mo and Xiao Geng would have to write one too.
"How did the talks go?"
Fu Chi came in. Tai Chi 2 was the Eastern Depot's own production, so he had not taken part.
"Not bad. The Japanese talk tough, but they really want to buy. Last time I managed to fast-talk the Americans, and that can't be repeated. Selling them a high price again would be very hard, so I can only look to the Japanese. If Tai Chi 2 can just match the first film, that's enough. The real focus is still Orphan. Put the two films together, and the foreign exchange they bring in will have to break..."
Chen Qi paused and said no more. He spat three times—ptui, ptui, ptui—and laughed. "Keep a low profile and bank some virtue. Pretend I never said it."
Fu Chi burst out laughing, then asked, "When are you heading back?"
"Orphan is nearly wrapped as well. November or December, I suppose. Oh, and, Uncle..."
Chen Qi said, "I've written a script, and it's already set for Liu Dehua to star. He's gone off to shoot Boat People now. After I leave, if there's any news of him, please send me word. I'll come back over then."
Chapter 246