Opening Act

Harvey Weinstein and his quieter brother Bob are among the last old-fashioned film moguls, known in the business for their flash and their foresight. After building their studio, Miramax, from the ground up, they proceeded to make bold, unexpected choices — such as producing Quentin Tarantino's edgy Pulp Fiction in 1994 and bringing Hong Kong auteur Wong Kar-wai to American screens in 1996 — that have inspired packs of copycats.

Industry eyes were therefore watching closely last month when Harvey announced that the brothers' new venture, the Weinstein Company (TWC), would oversee a $285 million fund for the production and distribution of roughly 30 "Asian films" in total — that is, movies made in Asia, by Asian filmmakers, or about Asian subjects. The move is expected to help the Weinsteins make important savings at a time when North American box-office takings are flattening out and production costs are on the rise. (The Weinsteins' five-month-old Grindhouse cost $53 million to make, according to the brothers, but has earned just over half that at box offices worldwide.)

With cheaper production, location and labor costs, films can be made for less in Asia. But in strategic terms, the Weinsteins may also be looking to stake a claim on the market of Asia's movie viewers, which has become the world's fastest growing. Ten years ago, the North American takings of U.S. film companies outpaced international earnings. "That's now absolutely shifted," says TWC co-president Michael Cole, who will shuttle between Hollywood and the fund office in Hong Kong. PricewaterhouseCoopers estimates that Asia's film industry will increase by 6% annually, reaching $104 billion by 2010. "If you're not really doing movies in Asia or with Asia as a possible location, or using Asia in a storyline in some fashion, or for a production, you're missing a giant opportunity," says Tony Krantz, the producer of TV's 24 and whose next project — a trio of martial-arts pics to be shot in Hong Kong — will be backed by the Weinsteins' fund. "Asia's really the dominant story for this next century." Miramax's parent, Disney, is already in the game. This year, it released its first production tailored for China — a Mandarin-language cartoon.

There are creative strings attached to working with the Weinsteins, however. The brothers intend, as they always have, to bring what they describe as "Western sensibility" and "Western storytelling techniques" to their productions — but in so doing, critics say, they sometimes homogenize what should be distinctively Asian work. Miramax bought the 2001 Stephen Chow movie Shaolin Soccer — then the highest-grossing film in Hong Kong's history — only to recut, dub and delay the new version's release for almost two years. When it finally emerged, many fans of the original thought it ham-fisted. In the Jackie Chan pic Armour of God, the brothers excised a narrative back story that had served to explain the tension between Chan's character and a love interest. Fearing such treatment when the Weinsteins acquired the award-winning Japanese animé feature Princess Mononoke, the film's producer mailed Harvey a katana — a Japanese long sword — with a note that read "No cuts."

The Weinsteins even inspired an online petition to Disney, signed by 14,000 movie fans demanding that the brothers "cease the act of altering Hong Kong films." "If you do this and that for different audiences," says Hong Kong producer Nansun Shi, "you lose the whole raison d'être of your cultural mark. There's a certain energy or stamp or mark on a film that says 'this is a Hong Kong film.'" And not just those. Last year, French director Luc Besson publicly criticized the Weinstein's handling of his animated feature, Arthur and the Invisibles: "They changed so much of the film and tried to pretend the film was American."

In their defense, the Weinsteins can point to considerable success with Asian productions. In fact, if you name an Asian hit in the West, the brothers are probably responsible in some way. Chungking Express, Farewell My Concubine, and half of the eight highest-grossing American showings of Asian pics, including Zhang Yimou's Hero, were released under their auspices. Harvey Weinstein also claims a genuine penchant for Asian films, picked up, he says, through his friendship with kung fu–movie fan Quentin Tarantino.

In any case, given the sort of money they have to spend, it seems certain that any quibbles over the Weinsteins' cultural sensitivities will be drowned out by the gushing welcomes of Asian filmmakers. John Chong, the CEO of Hong Kong's Media Asia, one of the largest Chinese film studios, foresees something of a boom. "If they're successful very quickly," he predicts, "maybe more independent film producers will be coming into the China market and the Asia market." It wouldn't be the first time that the Weinsteins have blazed a trail.