Lauren Yorkston

The line of hostesses in strappy lingerie and body glitter stepped past the velvet rope and set down three bottles of Veuve Clicquot with sparklers and a Macallan 18. We toasted to the future, to health, wealth, and happiness. Michele’s diamond encrusted Chrome Hearts bracelets clinked along with the glasses. Stephen, in a custom embroidered Dolce and Gabbana suit, raised his glass of Coca Cola, cigarette pinned against it by bejeweled, manicured fingers. And the beautiful hostess beside me smiled at me like she had just opened her presents on Christmas morning, a warm, glowing smile.

The drinks flowed. The lights pulsed. Mirrors lined the walls. My head was swimming. We had already had several rounds at the Michelin-starred dinner beforehand. We talked cars, women, and fashion. A club remix of Umbrella by Rihanna pumped from the speakers, and I could feel the bass beat in my chest.

“Jeff, let’s dance!” Andrea shouted in my ear over the music. We worked hard all day, and it was pure catharsis to let loose at night. Forget the pressure. Forget the banks. Forget the figures and the spreadsheets.

I loosened my silk tie, undid my cufflinks, and the two of us joined the throng of people going ecstatic in front of the DJ booth, stamped hands raised high as if in worship of the music. I could feel the heat rising from everyone around me. The rise and fall of bodies moving to the rhythm. Faces backlit in blue and red and purple. The smell of cologne and smoke tangled in the air. The taste of champagne and beer still sharp on my tongue. A woman’s hips press against me. I was young and free and living the high life.

Night after night I partied with the elite of the elite in one of the most vibrant cities on Earth. I was hypnotized by the effortlessness and abundance of wealth around me. Luxury and opulence were simply part of the natural atmosphere for them; it was the air they breathed. And I was about to cash in on the deal of a lifetime. I could not believe my good fortune.

I had moved to Hong Kong from Hawaii on the promise getting in on the ground floor of a real estate deal that would make my fortune and set me up for life. I had dreams of returning home to Hawaii after a few years, rolling in cash, and living the good life on the beach—feet in the sand, beautiful woman by my side, not a care in the world. The carrot had been dangled so tantalizingly in front of my face that I had not realized it was hanging from a rod that would continue to keep the carrot just out of reach.

The deal had seemed straightforward enough. My colleague, David, and I had been brought in as the numbers guys on a multi-million-dollar real estate development project to build a luxury hotel and casino on the up-and-coming Cotai Strip in Macau. The pieces were mostly in place, we just needed to create the financial reports that would be used to attract the remaining investors needed to get things off the ground. I thought it sounded like the perfect opportunity to cut my teeth in finance, gain experience in an international market, and launch my career.

Macau is like the Las Vegas of East Asia, a city of neon lights that is permissive of every flavor of vice imaginable. And in the mid-2000s, the gaming industry was exploding. There was huge demand for luxury resorts where customers could indulge their hopes of winning big and soften the blow of losing with sex, drugs, and karaoke. It seemed like a no-brainer. Who wouldn’t want to invest in something that basically worked like a vending machine for cash? It had a built-in clientele who were wired to keep coming back no matter how much they lost.

Macau was a risk-taker’s paradise where fortunes could be won and lost—but the biggest gambles were not at the blackjack or Baccarat tables but in the backrooms and boardrooms where major deals were made.

It was in these rooms where I would shake hands and work alongside some of the richest, most powerful, most well-connected people in the world. I was swept along into the dizzying world of five-star restaurants, boozy karaoke bars, and consorting with models. I met people who were larger than life, who got chauffeured in custom luxury cars, chartered helicopters for a fifteen-minute ride, and would not bat an eye at picking up a five-thousand dollar tab at the end of the night.

And like the wild west towns of the American gold rush, the boomtown of Macau drew its fair share of cowboys and outlaws. I would soon learn that “pachinko investor” was essentially code for a Yakuza guy looking for an avenue to launder dirty money. That you probably should avoid getting involved with the mistress of a Triad boss who has a habit of “making people disappear.” And that something that sounded too good to be true probably was.

I thought I had come to the right place at the right time, and for a while I got a real taste of what it was like to live the high life. I worked hard and played harder. I partied with expats, rubbed shoulders with Wall Street hot shots, and dated beautiful women. The energy and verve of Hong Kong was electrifying.

But none of us had been able to foresee all the obstacles we butted up against: the looming financial crisis, the volatility of investors tied to organized crime, and the changes in political will that could hamstring our deal overnight. It would have been impossible to predict just how epically I plummeted from my seat at the top. So how did I end up here—bleary eyed, broke, and living with my ex-girlfriend in a cramped one-bedroom apartment? What happened to those wild, crazy nights of luxury and feeling like I was on top of the world?

She’s a BRICS House

As countries recognize the economic value of creative industries, film and television in particular, corporations and governments should consider making strides to “Hollywood proof” their own budding markets. The growing awareness among newer or building economies of their vulnerability to residual shocks from geo-political disturbances in dominant economies or currencies like the dollar and the euro has given rise to concerted efforts by Global South and Western nations alike to dollar-proof their economies and move away from exclusive dependency on the U.S. economy.

As we discussed in Chapter 2, the current economic model is based on positive ideals such as collaborative trade and interdependent partnerships; however such notions are starting to sour in the face of economic realities, a bit like a relationship with a co-dependent ex or toxic best friend. It may have started off with synergy and harmony, but soon the relationship goes off the rails because of power imbalances and the tendency for one side to constantly overstep boundaries. While Western blocs like the E.U. are dollar-proofing to ensure their own strategic autonomy and resilience amongst their trading partners, many Global South nations feel obliged to Western-proof their economies to maintain their sovereignty and economic resiliency—a reasonable aim given the near-constant threat of Western sanctions that paralyze their economies or force lopsided trade deals.

Similarly in the creative industries, there is a drive to Hollywood-proof home or regional markets. The idea is that if their own production and distribution systems can find ways to become largely independent, then their creative economies will be resilient against changes—often very sudden waves of changes—in investment and support from U.S. and European trade partners. BRICS countries are playing on their strengths to build a house that cannot be blown over, no matter how hard the Western wolf enjoys huffing and puffing houses down.

For example, film festivals and awards have historically centered on Europe and the U.S. The “Big Three” film festivals—Cannes, Venice, and Berlin—are held in Europe; the Academy Awards take place in the U.S., and Oscars are disproportionately awarded to American and European entries, with nearly three-quarters given to Americans since 1929.

In recent years, BRICS countries have pushed to decenter or recenter the Western film industry. There is an annual BRICS film festival as part of the annual Moscow International Film Festival, one of the oldest in the world, and others held in member countries including China, India, and UAE that showcase work from BRICS creatives. This shift comes in part from increased investments into audiovisual industries, attractive tax-incentives and government subsidies, projects to build ultramodern studios, lower labor and location costs, and development of local creative talent. Likewise, BRICS countries are now home to internationally recognized and lauded educational institutions for film and media talent, such as the Gerasimov Institute of Cinematography (Russia), Beijing Film Academy (China), and Satyajit Ray Film and Television Institute (India). And it does not hurt that members like India, Brazil, and China have film and TV industries almost as old as the Hollywood system supported by large consumer populations who enjoy local content. This often makes local markets somewhat self-reliant and autonomous, and therefore more difficult for Western players to penetrate.

Meanwhile, film and television production within the U.S. is moving out of Hollywood for exactly the opposite reasons—rising production costs for labor and location, as well as general cost of living, aging studio infrastructure, and the encroaching impacts of climate change, like the wildfires that devastated swaths of L.A. in 2025. Innovation is another major asset to BRICS’ creative industries. For example, the microdrama trend that began in China is now making billions as it is replicated by creators across countries and cultures. The trend began in 2018 and took off in the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic lockdowns and has been described as “like a soap on steroid[s].”

Most microdramas are sixty or ninety seconds long and follow a simple revenue model: entice viewers with the first few episodes for free before leading them to pay for the remaining episodes if they want to know how the story unfolds. Microdrama series are, as expected, low budget with short production cycles and highly lucrative returns when they go viral; one series, Unparalleled, took in ¥100 million (approximately US$13.94 million) in just eight days. Corporate brands quickly caught on and bid to sponsor episodes or pay for product placement.

The highly attractive model—easy to watch, budget friendly to produce, and financially rewarding—quickly gained traction outside of China, for obvious reasons. It takes “binge watching” and “doom scrolling” to a whole new, highly accessible, highly profitable level. Companies outside China are scrambling to create microdramas apps, the top ten of which raked in US$1.7 billion in 2024.

BRICS countries are making huge strides in creative markets, putting pressure on the historic hegemon of Hollywood, and they are doing it their way. In the following sections, we will examine some of the greatest success stories in film and television from China, India, and Brazil.