24 asialife HCMC
T M Y V N T V
I WA N
Local audiences remain critical of Vietnamese television,
but it’s hard to deny the demand for homegrown content.
Tom DiChristopher speaks to industry insiders about
delivering better programming in Vietnam.
The house is a typical residence in a young
hamlet of District 7. The façade is a mix
of local tastes and provincial European
flourishes—Chateau Vietnam. Behind the
exterior wall a tangle of motorbikes occupies
the courtyard. The street on which it is located
is too new to have been named.
Inside, however, the scene is anything
but typical. Crew members dart around
the ground floor, carrying film equipment. A
makeup artist touches up Dai Nghia, who
portrays the husband of the household, for
his next scene. On the next level, one of the
two bedrooms off the hallway is flooded with
set lighting, while the other serves as a control
room, presided over by young Vietnamese
director Nguyen Manh Ha.
This is not a home at all, but the set of a
new television series called May Rau Lam Vo
(Mr. Housewife).
It’s immediately clear that Ha is busy these
days. He excuses himself intermittently during
the interview to issue directions into a walkie
talkie, and his gaze never strays far from the
pair of monitors on which the scene across
the hallway unfolds.
Across town in a far-flung neighborhood of
Tan Binh District, the atmosphere is similar on
the set of Vu Dieu Tinh Yeu (Love Romance),
the latest serial drama by veteran director
Dang Luu Viet Bao. On any given day, Bao will
wake up at 7am, shoot until the evening and
afterwards edit the footage shot the previous
day. Then it’s back home to work on scripts
or prepare a new project before turning in at
about 2am.
This is the life of a Vietnamese television di-
rector. Until recently, Ha and his crew worked
about 14 hours per day, seven days a week.
Ha lobbied the project’s investors for a six-day
work week, and they eventually relented. With
a slight smile that betrays irony, he says, “I
won.”
A Love Affair with Foreign Content?
One could be forgiven for overestimating the
national taste for foreign television program-
ming; surfing through the 65 channels now
commonly available, movies and soap operas
from China, Korea and the United States in
particular still occupy the airwaves much of
the day.
“The general perception is that the Viet-
namese love foreign-made products and we
don’t really appreciate our country,” says Tran
Thi Thanh Mai, managing director of media
studies firm Kantar Media.
As evidence against this assumption,
Thanh Mai points to the success of SCTV7,
a relatively new channel that focuses on
programming steeped in Vietnamese culture,
including cai luong, or traditional opera. Ac-
cording to the People Meter system, which
Kantar has used to track viewership in HCM
City since 2008, SCTV7 has consistently
occupied the top spot this year. In total, five
of SCTV’s channels have cracked the top 20,
and other Vietnamese channels like Vietnam
Television (VTV) and Ho Chi Minh City Televi-
sion (HTV) are also dominating.
“Like in any other country, the local people
prefer to watch in the local language,” says
Mai. “The movies on Star Movies, HBO and
Cinemax are quite good but of course they’re
in a foreign language with subtitles,” says
Thanh Mai, explaining that audiences don’t
always grasp everything they’re watching in
English.
Othello Khanh of production house Crea
TV says the influence of Korean and Chinese
programming is also waning. “People used
to love it, but [that was] because there was
no Vietnamese programming,” says Khanh.
“The Vietnamese decided to create Vietnam-
ese programming … and now people want
more as they discover that you can do local
content.”
Like many aspects of Vietnamese society,
the television industry is both underdeveloped
and growing rapidly. For nearly 30 years fol-
lowing reunification, only a handful of channels
were available to Vietnamese viewers, but
in the last decade, the number of channels
has grown at a clip. Cable television, once
primarily consumed by foreign diplomats and
expatriates due to its prohibitive cost, was
significantly reduced in price in 2005, giving
local viewers even more options.
Concerned with the ratio of Vietnamese to
foreign content, the Ministry of Culture issued
a decree in 2007 recommending that 30 per-
cent of programming be made up of original
Vietnamese serial dramas and comedies.
Consequently, directors like Ha and Bao are
in demand.
Ha, a relatively young director at 34, has
studied in workshops at the University of
South California and in Europe, and has
experience in the better-developed Thai film
industry. After shooting wraps on his current
project, he’ll fly to Singapore to get the ball
asialife HCMC 25
 rolling on a documentary he’ll direct for the they’re making.”
Discovery Channel. When asked how many Achieving high production quality in Vietnam
Vietnamese television directors have compa- has been a defining struggle for Jennifer Ravo-
rable experience, Ha says, “At my age, not so let, creative director for Yan TV. Launched last
many. Maybe four or five.” year, the local music channel has been able
to set itself apart by investing in professional
Coming up to Speed production and drawing on foreign expertise.
Still, Vietnamese viewers aren’t ready to give “When everything is grey, nothing looks
television producers a free pass. A recent great,” says Ravolet, referring to the drab
article on VietNamNet reported that the na- colour in locally produced shows. “It’s a matter
tional penchant for puns had been applied to of production, how you set up your lights, your
a few flagging shows: We Are In Love, Really? set. It’s a matter of colour grading in post.”
was rechristened We Turn Off TV, Really? and The premium placed on production quality
Sorry for Love has become known as Sorry is in part what led Ta Thuy Minh, an entertain-
the Audience. ment journalist turned talk show host, to Yan
One of the biggest obstacles to quality TV. Her current VTV talk show, IME ("I am
programming, says Ha, is local knowledge of me"), was inspired by Western-style formats
like The Ellen DeGeneres Show,
and she has become known for
“Nowadays, films are made quickly to challenging her celebrity guests
be broadcast in time. Many directors more than is common on
Vietnamese talk shows. When
don’t even have enough time to review she began developing a lifestyle
the editing” show, Yan TV was a natural fit.
“I love it when they try to
Dang Luu Viet Bao bring the audience something
beautiful, something nice,
something well-designed,” says
production practices, particularly at the pre- Thuy Minh. “I like that about Yan TV. Television
and post-production stages. “In Vietnam, we needs that.”
do not have a professional film industry,” says To achieve better quality, Bao points out
Ha. “I have to fight with people in Vietnam. another asset that would help: time.
They ask, ‘Why do I have to do it like this?’ “Nowadays, films are made quickly to be
They don’t think [pre- and post-production broadcast in time. We have a rather short
are] important.” time for post-production. Many directors don’t
Bao also emphasizes the importance of even have enough time to review the editing,”
professionalism on his sets, pointing to the says Bao. “Editing in every shot needs to be
fact that his crew is able to carry on while he is checked carefully by the director. Especially in
being interviewed. “In order to do that, it takes films in which sound is recorded directly, it’s
a long time to prepare in pre-production,” very important to edit every sound and noise.”
he says. “The script must be edited carefully Currently, that’s a luxury that few directors
and even small props must also be prepared have, and until they do, says Ha, Vietnamese
sufficiently. Each member of the crew needs television won’t be as good as it could be.
to thoroughly understand the idea of the film "The film producers in Vietnam know how to
26 asialife HCMC
improve post-production while making their
films, but it's hard to do that by themselves,"
says Ha. "You can only improve the quality
of film if you have a healthy and professional
filming environment. We have to build up the
market. If you want to keep fish, you must
have a fish tank and clean water first."
Making Ends Meet
The time constraints placed on directors
have much to do with the current fund-
ing structure behind most productions. In
Vietnam, television stations do not finance
programming, so production houses must
turn to outside investors and then present
the finished series to networks. Compound-
ing the problem is that payment is made
upon broadcast—often one year after filming
wraps—so production houses can quickly
run into cash flow problems.
Today, there are about 60 production
houses, big and small, in Vietnam, but televi-
sion station expansion has outpaced their
ability to create homegrown content.
“The government is asking the TV stations
to fill up 30 percent of Vietnamese content,
but it’s impossible to fill it up now because
we don’t have enough resources,” says
Chanh Tran of Crea TV.
Although Crea TV has the capacity and
skill to provide production work for clients
such as The Amazing Race Asia and MTV’s
Road Rules, they’re not immune to the
travails of the Vietnamese television industry.
They’ve produced about 150 hours of televi-
sion over three years, but the goal is to pro-
duce at least 120 to 150 hours of program-
ming per year, spread out over three or more
series so there’s always money coming in for
the next project. That might not seem like
much content, but according to Chanh, the
maximum any production house in Vietnam
is turning out is about 250 hours per year.
To keep money rolling in, filmmakers have
to keep investors happy, which can affect
everything from casting to production sched-
ules. For example, investors prefer for well-
known singers and models to be involved,
reasoning that popularity in one medium
will transfer to another. For directors, this
often means coaching amateur actors and
actresses, as well as contending with their
overlapping commitments to the stage and
runway. When scheduling conflicts arise,
budget problems follow.
Currently, says Chanh, the average
amount spent on an hour of television
programming is USD $10,000, which he
estimates is half the average in Thailand and
one percent of the cost in the United States,
where one hour of production easily reaches
the $1 million mark. Those budgets in part
explain why most television series are slated
for about 30 to 40 episodes.
“You cannot get the commitment of all
the actors,” says Othello Khanh. “You get a
contract for, like, three months to shoot the
series. You don’t have the financial power to
lock everybody in for five years.”
Under good conditions, where the cast is
able to commit fully, Bao and Ha both report
that they can shoot one episode in two days,
with an additional two days on either end for
pre- and post-production.
“If the film is just about the lives of the
members of one or two families, it’s finished
rather quickly, within about two months,”
says Bao. “But if the film is staged in the
countryside, all the crew have to spend time
moving, so it’ll take a longer time, maybe
three months.”
Not an ideal situation, but for now it’s the
status quo.
Finding (and Keeping) an Audience
Few expect change to come overnight, but
everyone surveyed believes it will come. The
last five years have been evidence of that. At
the dawn of the second decade of television
in Vietnam, signs point towards a shift from
a one-size-fits-all approach to strategies
rooted in identifying market segments. That,
“We have different accents,
cultural habits. So no one
is really confident that
they’re going to cover all of
the market in Vietnam”
Ta Thuy Minh
however, will be a challenge for culturally
diverse Vietnam.
“We have different accents, cultural
habits,” says Thuy Minh. “So no one is really
confident that they’re going to cover all of
the market in Vietnam.”
There’s also a line between older viewers,
who tend to consume traditional program-
ming, and teenage audiences, who have
grown up with international-standard pro-
gramming and Internet content. Since teens
will be tomorrow’s audiences, it’s no wonder
they’ve become prime targets.
Yan TV is one of the channels trying to at-
tract their attention. In lieu of qualified music
video directors, they’ve turned to creative
director Jennifer Ravolet to direct videos and
devised an agreement that benefits both Yan
and the artist: low-cost, high-quality produc-
tion in exchange for rights to the video.
“Producing music videos is not a core
business of a television channel,” says Do
Quoc Hiep, CEO of Yan TV. “But then what
happens is you see there are not so many
good quality music videos out there, and
we happen to have someone like Jen in the
company, so we do the job of the pioneer.
We open another way for people to look at
how you produce a music video.”
Hiep acknowledges that being a pioneer
in Vietnam can lead to a slippery slope. In
pushing the boundaries, Yan TV must be
careful not to venture so far beyond them
that their content loses its relevance.
“The challenge is really remarkable,” says
Hiep. “At first we had long arguments. Do we
set a high standard and make the audience
reach us, understand us? Or do we produce
the content that they will accept? We came
to a point where we said, ‘OK, the creative
people like Jen, they are used to a high stan-
dard, but then you have to make your story
understandable to local tastes.’”
As difficult as it can be to resolve foreign
and local sensibilities, Bao believes that
international involvement is essential to the
future of television. As a lecturer at the Ho
Chi Minh City University of Theatre and Cin-
ema, he says looking beyond Vietnam pres-
ents opportunities to supplement the young
industry. “[The University] should invite some
lecturers from other countries that have suc-
cessful movie industries to come and share
their practical working experience, as well as
to teach several periods,” says Bao, adding
that there’s currently a shortage of lecturers
and few internship opportunities.
Ha agrees that bringing today's students
up to speed will make for better films tomor-
row. "If workflow isn't good, it will also affect
the next generation of filmmakers," he says.
"Nothing carries over like mistakes."
While help may come from outside
Vietnam, real change will come from within.
Bao and Ha both stress the importance of
source material. You can throw all the money
in the world at a production, but without a
solid script that speaks to local audiences, a
television show will fail.
It boils down to a simple maxim, Bao
says: co bot moi got nen ho. No flour, no
paste.
asialife HCMC 27