The year of 2005 was one of glory for Chinese filmmakers, especially for auteur film directors. In succession they garnered accolades at the world's major international film festivals.

Gu Changwei won a Silver Bear Jury's Prize at the Berlin International Film Festival (Germany) for the film Peacock, while Xu Jinlei's Letter from An Unknown Woman was welcomed in Spain by winning in the Best Director category at the San Sebastian Film Festival. And Wang Xiaoshuai, formerly known as the "underground filmmaker," took home the Jury's Prize at the prestigious Cannes Film Festival (France).

In addition, in the latter half of the year, in Venice (Italy), seven Chinese films participated in the Venice International Film Festival, with two of them winning prizes at the festival.

However, while enjoying the honor of winning international recognition, back home, these award-winning films received a poor reception from their home audience. When these films were released in China, movie theaters saw only scant numbers of audience. Their box office gross were unsatisfactory or even poor.

The auteur filmmakers have made their voices heard in international film festivals and raised the international profile for Chinese cinema. But in the eyes of their fellow compatriots, their films seem to be seen as box office poison. Art-house films, or auteur films seem to be an unbearable heaviness for the current Chinese film market.

In March, Peacock, the highly acclaimed nostalgic film about the story of three siblings, had a poor box office performance that made director Gu Changwei's family weep in public over the result.

Jia Zhangke's eight-year magnum opus The World was his first-time nationwide release but its box office gross only reached 2 million yuan (US$247,892).

And when Wang Xiaoshuai's Cannes-winning Shanghai Dreams prepared its release in June, the film crew was prevented from visiting Chengdu, China's fourth largest city, to promote their film. Cinema proprietors in Chengdu believed it would add up to too much promotional cost if they were to receive the director and his actors. "Given that art-house films such as The World only took in 100,000 yuan, there is no need for them (the Shanghai Dreams crew) to "waste money" on promotional cost," said the proprietors.

A month later, Shanghai Dreams' distribution company held a champagne party celebrating the film's box office reaching 3 million yuan. Ironically, the next week, the star-studded car-racing movie Initial D raked in 35 million yuan in just a week's time. Not to mention how such a box office gross can compare with 100-million hits such as Zhang Yimou's Hero or Feng Xiao Gang's A World Without Thieves.

With award-winning films already facing such an embarrassing situation, it is even more worrying for up-and-coming films with similar art-house styles.

In China, 90 percent of the filmmakers are labeled as art-house filmmakers, while only 10 percent make purely commercial fares. However, the current situation in the Chinese film market shows that the market does not welcome these art-house films. Or to put in another way, the market does not have space to accommodate such films.

With China's fast economic growth and the profit-oriented rule of the market, more and more foreign blockbuster films have entered the market. Filmgoers in China have begun to enjoy the thrill of Hollywood-styled sensations, while their film tastes have begun to lean towards Hollywood commercial films. Like the nouveau rich, they are celebrating the joy of breaking away from poverty.

With local commercial films immediately defeated by Hollywood blockbuster movies, Chinese auteur films, naturally, were even faster left behind like orphans. As a result, Hollywood films soon set up their brand names in the Chinese film market. And the environment needed for developing Chinese auteur films remains insufficient.

The soil for developing art-house movies is the film audience. In Europe, for decades there have existed large groups of fervent art-house movie fans that appreciate films with their own independent thinking and unique perspectives. Such an appreciation of art-house films paved the way for major international film festivals such as Berlin, Venice, and Cannes to take place. These film festivals always open their arms for auteur filmmakers around the world; in 2005, they welcomed Chinese auteur directors.

Therefore the first step is to develop art-house movie fans. And the government should step in to set up art-house cinemas and an art-house screening mechanism, to allow more art-house films to be seen.

Second, and more importantly, art-house movies should have their own marketing strategies and positioning to open up spaces for themselves amid the commercial-ridden film market.

The recognitions at international film festivals, for example, can be a perfect marketing strategy. As filmmaker Jia Zhangke noted, international film festival, by nature, provides an opportunity for art-house films to face the commercial environment. All major film festivals, such as Cannes, Berlin, and the American Film Market (AFM), have a well-operated film market conducting international trades for movies. Film festivals are not just arenas of competition, but also the best opportunities for films to do international promotion.

Take Zhang Yang's Sunflower as an example. While the film sold poorly in the domestic market, it's international sales have done well enough to let the film cover its production cost.

To push art-house films in the domestic market, there is also room for further action. The point is to transfer the values and quality of art-house films into commercial values. Through well-designed premieres, and by creating news topics and discussions, or by producing impressive advertisements, a low-budgeted film, such as Zhang Yang's 3-million-yuan Spicy Love Soup, can also create a gross of 30 million yuan.

Last year was an unforgettable one for Chinese auteur filmmakers, as they experienced a roller coaster ride of emotions, from the joy of winning acclaim at international film festivals to the disappointment of seeing a poor box office. But such a ride can be a turning point for both filmmakers and distributors. To make art-house films sellable and more marketable, they have to bravely take on a series of new tasks.