By Chip Tsao | published Nov 11, 2010
Some Chinese funds are talking about buying up Metro-Goldwyn-China (MGM), which rumor has it is about to file for bankruptcy.
The Hollywood film studio behind Oscar-winning blockbusters such as “Rocky” and “West Side Story” agreed to a plan last week with its creditors on the restructuring of debt, which totals more than US$4 billion. Peanuts compared with China’s colossal financial strength! It’s time that the roaring King Kong did something to save the screaming blonde clinging to the window of a shaking Empire State Building.
That would mean, if we own MGM, the next James Bond would be played by our heartthrob Donnie Yen, who would leap into bed with Bond girl Keira Knightley in the first five minutes. It’s always been Sean Connery with Tsai Chin or Peirce Brosnan with Michelle Yeo—an indisputable surplus of white Anglo-Saxon males reaping sexual advantages over Oriental women on the Hollywood screen. Now it’s time for some political correctness. Not used to seeing a Chinaman hero unclipping the bra of a western woman for some hanky-panky? Give us some time. Some 20 years ago, no American would dream of having a black president.
Then Blofield, the cat-stroking arch-nemesis of a global criminal gang, will be played by a bald-headed Tom Hanks wearing a tie and jacket instead of a Maoist suit, or even a kimono, depending on how long the Japanese are occupying our sacred Diaoyutai islands. Our Chinese Bond will thus crush the White House, the headquarters of the Evil Empire, at the last minute before Beijing is nuked, saving the world from the nuclear doom.
But a Chinese-owned MGM could be a strategically sensitive matter for the U.S., which knows all too well how global cinematic indoctrination works. It’s rumored that even if the Chinese are allowed to buy it, we will only own the land and a pile of bricks, like the studio buildings in Los Angeles. That means we’d have to stay away from approving film scripts and deciding the skin color of heroes like Indiana Jones or Rocky. There’ll be an actors’ strike if a Chinese boss insists that Jackie Chan be given his long-overdue sex scene with Nicole Kidman.
It’s what you call the Beverly Hills’ Four Seasons Hotel model. The prestigious five-star hotel was sold to some Hong Kong property tycoons about 20 years ago. But strict clauses were stipulated in the contract, restricting the Chinese consortium to owning the premises only, without the right to change a single toilet roll used in the restroom as mandated under the auspices of heritage preservation. When I visited the world-famous hotel in 1996, I was delighted to learn that it had changed hands, with Hong Kong’s Cheng Yu-tung now being the main shareholder, but was disappointed to find there was no Yeung-chow Fried Rice on the dinner menu. The manager and chef were still Italian, not some familiar faces transferred in from Yung Kee. I walked out in rage.
Labels: Politically Incorrect, 陶傑