Chapter 191: Controlling the Film Association

“Very good. Since Mr. Zou wants me to speak directly, then I will!” Xiao Ran thought that Zou Wenhuai really lacked patience. Smiling at everyone, he took a document from An Yuxuan and gently fixed his gaze on Zou Wenhuai’s face. “Last year, Jiahe invested in seventeen films, nine of which were comedy-action movies. In the second half of the year, when ‘Uncle Zombie’ became popular, Jiahe immediately invested in four zombie movies!”
Zou Wenhuai’s expression changed slightly as his mind raced—why was Xiao Ran investigating him? Xiao Ran’s gaze shifted between Zou Wenhuai and He Guanchang, followed by a faint smile. “Those fifteen movies earned Jiahe 220 million in box office revenue last year. Aside from profit shares from financing, they also made about 140 million. Uncles Zou and He, isn’t that quite profitable?”
“President Xiao, what’s the meaning of you investigating Jiahe like this?” He Guanchang’s expression darkened abruptly. He was also very confused—why was Xiao Ran investigating Jiahe? But he believed Xiao Ran wouldn’t do anything pointless; there must be a reason.
Xiao Ran smiled lightly and calmly turned his gaze to Yang Qi. “Tianluo Company invested in sixteen films last year, eight of which were action movies, three were zombie movies, and three comedy-romance movies were set to start production in the second half of the year. These sixteen movies earned Tianluo 110 million in box office and distribution revenue.”
Yang Qi wasn’t surprised that Xiao Ran knew about Tianluo Company’s investments, as he could also roughly estimate Shadow’s investment and profits from last year. However, such precision was quite rare. Hearing Xiao Ran’s words, his expression also changed slightly. Whether personally or as a company, he and Xiao Ran were friends—why was Xiao Ran doing this?
When Xiao Ran’s gaze shifted to Pan Disheng and Cen Jianxun, their expressions also changed involuntarily. As if ignoring them, Xiao Ran continued, “Debao invested in fourteen films last year, six of which were comedy-romance movies, four were female-action movies, and the rest were comedies. They made 130 million in profits from distribution and box office revenue.”
For a moment, the conference room was completely silent, as if deep underwater. Wei Dongling couldn’t help but laugh inwardly. By using these figures right from the start, Xiao Ran had already subdued those unruly people who didn’t understand market planning, making things much easier afterward.
In fact, Xiao Ran was referring to the films they invested in producing, not all the films released. Last year, a total of 132 films were released in Hong Kong, with Shadow accounting for half of them. The rest were mostly divided among the three major companies. As for other smaller distribution companies, they couldn’t get full distribution rights—only for certain regions.
Jiahe and the others had lower profits because, firstly, their films weren’t as sellable as Shadow’s, and secondly, a significant portion of their profits went to financing shares. Shadow, having plenty of money, didn’t need financing to avoid risks. Thus, the combined profits of the three major companies were far lower than Shadow’s earnings.

But what exactly does Xiao Ran want to do? It’s very simple, just like his speech when he first joined the Film Association. He wants all film distribution companies in Hong Kong to invest purposefully, rather than blindly following trends. The Film Association is undoubtedly an excellent way to control film companies. A well-planned market is far more profitable than a chaotic one. For Xiao Ran, this step is particularly crucial as it can curb the already spreading trend of blind following. The most typical examples are “Spy Change,” “Dark Flowers,” “Unfinished Love Between Man and Ghost,” and “Uncle Zombie,” which became popular again in the second half of the year. “Dark Flowers” focused on creating a cool, distinctive style; for filmmakers, it was a work with a clear personal style. As a result, films with personal styles, which were almost non-existent in Hong Kong before, began to gain popularity and often achieved decent box office results. “Spy Change” introduced a new trend in action films, attracting audiences with its concise, highly effective, and smoothly paced visuals. Most importantly, it didn’t focus on overly intense fight scenes but instead emphasized clarity and efficiency, unlike many current action films that try to include fight scenes just for the sake of it. This greatly impacted the works of filmmakers like Sammo Hung, as audiences were tired of fights that didn’t make much sense no matter how they were presented. Thus, this year saw the rise of new-style action films—out of 132 films released throughout the year, at least 50 were of this type, aside from 22 R-rated films. This mainstream trend even affected Hong Kong’s deeply rooted comedy market, pushing comedies off their position as the most popular genre. The emergence of “Unfinished Love Between Man and Ghost” inspired a trend in romance films, with companies rushing to produce such films in the second half of the year. The zombie genre had already reached a bottleneck last year, but thanks to Lin Zhengying’s efforts, the success of “Uncle Zombie” with box office earnings of 30 million in the second half of the year sparked another wave of interest. In short, these three genres dominated last year and this year. This left Xiao Ran amused and frustrated—“Uncle Zombie” had only earned 20 million in box office revenue historically, but now, due to the diverse genres introduced by Miracle Company, its earnings surpassed that figure. Xiao Ran didn’t want the market he had painstakingly developed to make Hong Kong films more diverse to be ruined by audiences. According to surveys conducted by the planning department and Miracle Company, although audiences aren’t yet tired of these three genres due to their recent popularity, they will inevitably decline after another year. This is why there are highs and lows, just like in writing novels. One reason for the decline of Hong Kong films is extreme trend-following, and Xiao Ran didn’t want to be foolish enough to continue down that path despite knowing the consequences. The reason for adopting a strategy of producing high-quality films was to create refined movies. It’s undeniable that, in any era, true masterpieces are always in the minority.

However, the poor movies of that era, when placed more than a decade after the decline of Hong Kong cinema, would be considered truly excellent films. At least Xiao Ran used to like watching old movies from that time, as it felt more familiar. But all this clearly didn’t affect Shadow’s strategies.

As early as his first time joining the Film Association, Xiao Ran wanted to raise this suggestion, but unfortunately, he had little influence back then, and no one would listen to him. Things are different now; in his current position, if he doesn’t do this, he’ll likely regret it for life.

“These bosses really know how to make money!” Xiao Ran still didn’t sit back down. He disliked talking while seated, as it made him feel restricted. “Just churn out a few scripts and hire people to shoot them, and you can make money!”

“President Xiao, Shadow made more money last year than all of us combined, right?” He Guanchang narrowed his eyes and asked sternly, but he clearly still didn’t understand Xiao Ran’s intentions. “If that’s the case, then aren’t you…”

“What?” Xiao Ran couldn’t help but express his emotions, looking at the group with a pitiful gaze before speaking solemnly, “Last year, Shadow invested in 50 films—11 action movies, 8 comedies, 6 romance films, 10 experimental art films, 3 historical dramas, 4 youth films, 4 horror films, and 4 R-rated films!”

Zou Wenhui and the others were well aware of these numbers and weren’t surprised, but they secretly envied Xiao Ran for holding half of the market’s absolute advantage. Yet what Xiao Ran said next shocked them all: “The 50 films invested in by Shadow last year generated over 2 billion in production and distribution profits—something you probably don’t know!”

Over 2 billion! Everyone present roughly knew Shadow could make huge profits, but they never expected it to be as high as 2 billion. Moreover, this didn’t include films that weren’t invested in by Shadow but were distributed by them.

The total box office for the entire year last was only over 800 million. The combined profits of all production and distribution companies in Hong Kong might not even match Shadow’s earnings. As soon as he said this, Xiao Ran closely observed everyone’s expressions—this was crucial, as it affected how he would eliminate his rivals in the future.

Pan Disheng and Yang Qi had similar expressions, both with gleaming eyes. Especially Pan Disheng, who was determined to go all out in film production. Yang Qi also hadn’t expected film-making to be so profitable. Thinking of Tianluo’s earnings, he clenched his fists, vowing to seize the market.

Zou Wenhui’s eyes were filled with jealousy—pure envy. Jiahé had tried for over a decade without reaching such heights. Xiao Ran even guessed that even in the year Jiahé made $100 million overseas with “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” its profits probably weren’t as high as Shadow’s.

Zou Wenhui wasn’t just jealous—he was also angry. If it weren’t for Xiao Ran suddenly disrupting the market, Jiahé would at least be one of the three major giants. How could it have ended up being overshadowed by Shadow? But he seemed to overlook the fact that Fang Ruohai was someone he had brought in precisely to use against Shadow—so it wasn’t Xiao Ran’s fault at all.

As Xiao Ran often said, in the business world, if you don’t defeat others, you will surely be defeated by them. This is evident from the annual changes among the world’s top 500 companies—since the 1990s, the original ones have fallen and gone bankrupt, replaced by new ones, which in turn are replaced by even newer ones.

“President Xiao, we all know that Shadow makes a lot of money. But what do you mean by bringing this up now? What’s the point of probing into our company’s investment situation?” Zou Wenhui closed his eyes, seemingly resting or thinking, leaving only He Guanchang to speak on behalf of Jiahe.

“Nothing much…” Xiao Ran stretched out his words, turning slightly to stare at the bosses of the other distribution companies. “Do you really need me to tell you about your investment situations?”

“No need, President Xiao. If you have something to say, just tell us directly without beating around the bush!” The one who stood up to speak was a tall, thin middle-aged man in his thirties—Li Xingguo, the CEO of Meiya International Group, which had quite a few collaborations with Shadow.

Meiya left a deep impression on Xiao Ran. In the 1990s, its logo, “Meiya Laser,” often appeared at the beginning of its films. This was the video distribution company under Meiya Group (in later terminology, video tapes also included DVDs and VCDs, as used here).

Especially Meiya’s anti-piracy intro was quite interesting—probably everyone who watched Hong Kong movies back then remembered it. Meiya experienced rapid growth in the 1990s because two of the three giants collapsed. However, it lacked strength in production but later became quite proficient in video tape distribution.

Xiao Ran appreciated Meiya’s existence. As long as it continued to grow, it could compete with Sihai. Expanding the market through competition was the best approach. Xiao Ran nodded at Li Xingguo, his lips curling into a faint smile. “When the Film Association was founded, I said that the market must be carefully planned. That’s what I want to say now.”

Yang Qi asked confusedly, “What is market planning? Can the film market be planned?”

Wei Dongling stood up at that moment, smiling at everyone. “Who says it can’t be planned? Of course, the film market is competitive based on strength. But we can plan the market share for different genres each year. Does that make sense?”

“Plan genres?” Yang Qi murmured to himself a few times. He was a bit confused—was it really necessary to plan genres? But when he saw Xiao Ran’s calm expression, he felt a bit reassured. He believed Xiao Ran wouldn’t come up with any bad ideas.

“I really want to ask the bosses here one thing!” Wei Dongling felt as if he had been influenced by Xiao Ran and now spoke in a somewhat insidious tone. “Are you planning to stop making movies after two or three years?”

Of course, no one would answer this question. Both Wei Dongling and Xiao Ran understood this well. Most of the distribution and production companies that stayed around truly wanted to make movies, not just make quick money. But it wasn’t entirely absent—just more common among production companies.

“Jiahe’s ‘Uncle Zombie’ this year, along with Meiying’s ‘Treason’ and ‘Unfinished Love between Humans and Ghosts’ – everyone made a lot of money from these!” Wei Dongling actually didn’t plan to attend this meeting, but Xiao Ran thought it was necessary for him to handle such matters personally: “Have you ever thought that the money for tomorrow is being made today? Thirteen zombie movies were released in the second half of this year – do you really think that’s interesting? Won’t you want to make movies next year?”