Relying on the news to build an image
The subtle see-saw between local entertainment and foreign films is even more evident in terms of news broadcasts.
Until 1993, when TVBS began its half-hour evening newscast, viewers in Taiwan could only choose from the "Big Three" state-run TV channels: CTV, CTS, and TTV. Today, if you include those stations that broadcast news 24 hours a day, during the "news golden hour" from seven to eight at night there are now 11 choices. The competition for the news audience is so intense that one may call this the "Warring States period."
Rebar Telecommunications president Lu Chih-chu explains that there is a definite connection between the enthusiasm for producing news programs and the viewing tendencies of the Taiwan audience. Taiwan is small and densely populated; the slightest political vibrations reverberate through everyone's lives, and news broadcasts are the main source of information about changes in people's environment. In addition, the density of news programs means that they have the strongest permeability into all levels of society. "Society doesn't give very high evaluations to any station without a news program." He says straight out that this is a strategy for channel operators to build name recognition and prestige.
According to research by Su Heng, more than half of viewers who watch the Big Three watch their news broadcasts more than any other type of program. A survey by the United Advertising company sends the same signal: They discovered that the Big Three still have the highest ratings for news viewing; among cable news stations, TVBS has the highest ratings, followed by Zhong Tien, Super TV, and Truth News Network.
CNN can't beat TVBS
It's worth noting that, although many in Taiwan have not changed their habit of watching the Big Three news shows, viewing rates of the Big Three have fallen about ten percentage points from their past peak of 35%. Satellite TV has seriously encroached on the market long dominated by the Big Three, and is continuing to eat away at it.
Locally produced news seems to win the hearts of citizens. As for CNN, broadcast in English (with some programs having Chinese subtitles) and seen as the industry indicator for specialized cable news, when meeting local viewers, its ratings are the lowest of all news programs.
One person who works at a TV station jokes that you will only see how important CNN really is if World War III breaks out. Otherwise, as far as the Taiwan audience is concerned, it is just "kept in reserve, but not used."
If news programs want to find favor with local viewers, they not only have to be locally made, they also have to have their finger on the pulse of Taiwan society. Look for example at the Hong Kong-based CTN, which bills itself as the "Chinese CNN." It has been available in Taiwan for two years, and offers 24-hour coverage of Chinese people worldwide. The intention of focusing concern on Chinese societies is good one, but, unfortunately the station has attracted the interest of few advertising firms in Taiwan, and there are frequently stories that the station is in financial trouble.
Between "Chinese" and "Taiwan"
One manager at a TV station says, as a matter of personal opinion, that widespread deployment of staff to cover Chinese societies has not had the effect that was anticipated in mainland China, with its enormous potential market. Unexpectedly, Taiwan has become the main market. However, many viewers feel that CTN is not in touch with local people's feelings. Thus, for example, it calls President Lee "Mr. Lee Teng-hui of Taiwan." Ting Nai-chu, vice president of Super TV, avers that, with the headquarters of CTN being in Hong Kong, there is "a gap as wide as the sea" with Taiwan viewers, so naturally "the effect is attenuated."
Lu Chih-chu, having formerly worked at TVBS, says that at first Taiwan-based TVBS also wanted to go the route of "the channel of Chinese in East Asia." But the station's interview sources and base are still in Taiwan. So they discovered that the only way they could succeed was to "become more and more Taiwanized." He also compares TVBS, with its traditional three news broadcasts per day format, with a TVBS subsidiary which offers round- the-clock news. "A purely news channel isn't as good as having three-a-day news shows." Lu says that Taiwan viewers are still in the habit of "having a specific time and anchor person." The "scatter-shot" strategy of 24-hour-news stations commonly gets low ratings.
"The geographic gap definitely exists," admits some Ho Li-jen, marketing director for CTN's Taipei center. In terms of ratings and advertising revenue, CTN definitely loses out to TVBS. But in terms of spread and access, it's hard to compare. CTN is available to Chinese in North America, mainland China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan. For Taiwanese who are studying or working abroad or have emigrated, it may be the best bridge for those who want to keep abreast of news from the old country. What's more, through CTN "the whole world can watch Taiwan."
Based on the theory of news "proximity," it is perfectly understandable that CNN doesn't have the ratings of the Chinese-language CTN, and CTN doesn't have the ratings of Taiwan-based TVBS.
Don't worry about the culture thing
Though many in Taiwan still prefer Chinese films, the variety shows of Chu Ko Liang, and local news, indicating that local programming is still quite competitive, is it possible that fears of a cultural invasion are overblown?
"Don't worry about the cultural problem! The most popular stations are still the Big Three, followed by TVBS, Super TV, and Sanlih." So says Lee Kuang-hui, president of Formosa Television, who is soon to launch his fourth cable station. Based on his experience in sales at TVBS, he notes that the stations with the highest advertising revenues are all local.
Michael M.C. Cheng, program director at STAR Chinese Channel, agrees that there's no need to worry about a cultural invasion. "Even if we were to make it a law that foreign capital cannot own a local station, you couldn't keep foreign channels from coming in." "The choice of the audience is very clear. The number of people watching Chinese films exceeds that for foreign films, and CNN cannot beat TVBS. Viewers still prefer to watch local topics." Cheng affirms, "Even if there are a lot more channels from outside, if they don't adapt and localize, it will be hard for them to survive."
Ting Nai-chu, basing her analysis on the three key indicators of advertising revenue, channel carrying rate by local system operators, and viewer ratings, argues that local channels are all highly competitive. But she also stresses that although nowadays a viewer has 60 channels to choose from, "it's debatable whether every station is showing good programs."
Says Ting: "In terms of volume we have reached saturation, but in terms of quality there is still a lot of room for improvement."
Foreign shows are more creative
It is not only TV people who feel this way. Viewers who like to watch foreign shows agree that such programs are richer in content and have high production standards.
According to a survey of the viewing habits of people in Taiwan conducted by Su Heng, 70% of TV watchers frequently watch foreign shows, to the tune of more than one hour per day on average. And more than 60% of respondents contended that foreign programs "are high in entertainment value and very creative."
This result matches up with the opinions of system operators, who select shows for viewers. According to a survey of 115 cable broadcasters across Taiwan conducted by the Association for Broadcasting in Cable Development (organized by system operators), when operators were asked what stations had the best-designed programming, the number one and two spots were held by stations which make a relatively large proportion of their own programming-Super TV and TVBS respectively. But going deeper, of the top 11 spots, strictly speaking only three were held by such stations (the other being Sanlih), with the other eight being local stations whose schedules are mainly filled with shows imported from abroad. There is room for great improvement in the production standards of local programming.
What do the people want to watch?
There is a TV promo ad that says: "One station taking on three stations." But looking through the channel menu in Taiwan, the real situation is that 30 stations might as well be one station. In the morning are the stock-market reports. From afternoon to evening the time is given over to housewives and children, and it feels like all the programs are cooking, fashion, or cartoons. In the evening, besides call-in talk shows, game shows, and karaoke competitions, there are only dramatic series. It seems like it's all the same.
Take for instance the variety shows, which are mainly of entertainment value. After Japanese satellite TV reached Taiwan, viewers suddenly had to ask in amazement: "How come our variety shows are all copied from Japanese shows?" One reporter familiar with the broadcast industry criticizes local programs because "they not only steal, they do it badly." She assesses the reason as being that one installment of a Japanese variety show will have an NT$3 million production budget, while a similar show in Taiwan will spend only NT$200,000, "less than one-tenth than in Japan." Add to this that many of the guest stars don't really give their all, and the result is that the programs look slapdash.
Take for example TTV's Bing Bing Bang Bang variety show, the idea for which copies Japan's Yamada Kuniko Show. The show places stars into a variety of occupations, such as fishmonger in the morning market, or waiter at a celebratory banquet in the countryside. But many times the guests are busy and in a hurry to leave, so that the whole program is hurriedly shot in a short two hours, without capturing any of the interest or difficulties of the given occupation.
Audience demand a blind spot
When the mainland Chinese-made drama series Romance of the Three Kingdoms appeared on TV in Taiwan, and was compared against the Taiwan series Kuan Kung, a viewer wrote a letter to a newspaper complaining, "The quality [of the latter] is so low it is infuriating. Kuan Kung looks like a big red egg, and Zhang Fei looks like a little black snake. From the script to the acting to the sets, in no category could it compete with Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Yet still more people insisted on watching it."
With regard to this phenomenon, a scholar has written, "This does not by any means indicate that the standard of the Taiwan audience is low. Rather, audience composition is complex, with each person having their own preferences. Different strata of viewers need time and opportunity in order to change their tastes." The problem of audience tastes also manifests itself in the shows featuring "the supernatural" and "sexual topics." "Giving the audience what they want" has become the best excuse for commercial television.
But is it really true that Taiwan viewers cannot appreciate quality? Let's look at Super TV, selected by cable operators as having the best programming. Their opening series, called We Are All People in My Family has been running uninterrupted for over a year, thanks to its unique format and lively performances.
This series is different from the run- of-the-mill drama. Rather than working from a completed script, creative writers check out the news each morning to find topics of interest, and only then do they lay out the general ideas for the script. Then they discuss the ideas with the actors in an ad hoc manner. A script emerges in the afternoon, after which there is rehearsal and, in the evening, formal performance. Because the show satirizes current events, it has stayed going for nearly 300 episodes since it began last year, becoming the most-talked about program on Super TV.
Pandora's box?
Audience demand is indeed a major "blind spot." Commercial stations, with their eye on the bottom line, waver between giving the audience what they want and guiding the audience.
Take for example the kinds of social education programs needed by disadvantaged groups, aborigines, women, and children. Commercial stations usually argue that there is no market for them, so they don't make such shows. But these are precisely the kinds of programs that scholars and policy-makers say are most urgently needed. It can only be hoped that Public TV, soon to begin broadcasting, will shoulder this task.
Looking at the more than 100 satellite stations squeezed into Taiwan's airspace, those in the industry feel certain that next year will witness a decisive shakeout with "survival of the fittest." Of the more than 200 cable systems currently in Taiwan, after the shakeout perhaps only one-half will be left. For the industry it is a restructuring; for channels it is a time of "filtering out."
In this "filtering out" process, will local video culture be submerged in the enormous sea of American culture?
A Greek myth has it that a deity gave a box to Pandora, but ordered her not to open it. The integration of satellite and computer broadcasting is like Pandora's box. Intelligent and curious people will see in this treasure box a dazzling array of sights-all things and all places, programs to suit every taste.
No one can be sure whether this box will bring us widespread information and cultural enjoyment, or sensory stimulation and withered intellects. When Pandora, overcome by curiosity, opened the box, wild beasts, disasters, and plagues flew out. She hastily closed the box, retaining only the one thing that humanity has always sought-hope. What hope is television giving us?