Raymond Zhou

Made-in-China comedy hard to sell in US

By Raymond Zhou (China Daily)
Updated: 2007-03-10 07:58

Zhao Benshan is coming to town not any town, but the big cities of the United States.

Admittedly, Zhao is the reigning king of comedy in China, but can he pack 'em in and make 'em laugh on the other side of the ocean? Can he rally the Chinese communities of New York, Los Angeles, or here in Houston?

Judging from press reports, the result has been more boisterous than magnificent. In New York, ticket sales were so anemic that local Northeastern Chinese organizations had to mount "a rescue campaign" and use precipitous price reductions to fill a medium-sized theater.

In Los Angeles, a 2,000-seat auditorium overflowed with 3,000 people, many of whom had complementary tickets, and some people who had paid to be there had to move to a separate room and watch a live transmission instead of the real McCoy.

Such are the pitfalls of exporting Chinese performers to the US.

First of all, China's marquee names have the habit of demanding exorbitant fees for appearances. They are blissfully oblivious of the fact that China's live performance market is pampered with government subsidies, institutional purchases and other kinds of non-free-market practices.

Zhao's asking price for the Los Angeles show was $30,000, which came down to $15 per seat. The sum probably doubled when you factor in costs such as accommodation and agents' fees. That doesn't leave much room for profit, hence the high price.

The top ticket for Zhao's show in the Big Apple cost $498. For that money, I can fly myself from any place in the continental USA and catch a show on Broadway or at the Metropolitan Opera, arguably performing arts of the highest caliber.

Secondly organizers in the US who book Chinese talent are often Chinatown ragtags with more enthusiasm than experience. They tend to overestimate market potential and underestimate market maturity. They treat the business of imported performers as if it were another weekend gathering of friends and family. Unfortunately, ethnic camaraderie only works once or twice.

The consequences are rifts among organizers, mutual accusations of embezzlement and foul play, and a local Chinese community left with a bitter aftertaste. To be fair, the performers rarely pocket as much as they do for a similar tour on the domestic market.

There is a saying that the performance is first-rate, the reception is second-rate, the organization is third-rate, and the venue is fourth-rate. Shortly before Zhao descended on Houston, a troupe of Chinese film legends had to squeeze into a night club with inadequate lighting and sound equipment, and not even a toilet. Local organizers had booked a decent venue, but an unexpected delay in visa issuance threw a monkey wrench into the operation and made it into a howling fiasco.

Finally, there is Zhao Benshan's appeal, or the limit thereof. No doubt, he is one of China's best, but his comedy is regional and depends heavily on an understanding of Northeastern folk culture. Knowing "hu you" alone does not get you very far.

Chinese who live in the US hail from all over the world, but most have their roots in the Pearl River Delta and speak Cantonese. Zhao's market is restricted to first-generation immigrants who are familiar with the Chinese mainland's comedy style.

In the face of mounting negative publicity, Zhao gave a bravura performance in Houston, winning laughs and applause from beginning to end. But one must admit that exporting made-in-China comedy to mainstream America is much more difficult than selling goods to Wal-Mart.

raymondzhou@chinadaily.com.cn

(China Daily 03/10/2007 page4)