When several years ago one of the biggest and most prestigious cultural centers in Buenos Aires decided to dedicate its enormous hall exclusively to the 1930’s Shanghai "Film School," local and foreign critics and enthusiasts packed the space so tightly, that many ended up sitting on the floor and stairs. 

No wonder. This was a rare opportunity to watch – for one just one week – such legendary Chinese films as "The Goddess" (directed by Wu Yonggang, 1934, silent) and "Street Angel" (Yuan Muzhi, 1937) on a big screen.

For decades, Chinese films have been making waves among critics, serious cineastes and of course on fellow filmmakers. Ranging from Pre-World War II social realist movies to various powerful experimental contemporary works of art – Chinese cinema is diverse and often brilliant.

Chinese culture is ancient and extremely deep, but it is also easily understandable, particularly when a universal art form such as cinema is being used.

Anyone can enjoy and laugh watching such wild films like "Let the Bullets Fly," get emotional while witnessing the injustices and horrors of the Japanese occupation depicted in "City of Life and Death" (also known as Nanjing! Nanjing!), or grasp the enormity of love and loyalty in the 2009 movie "The Road Home."

The big problem is that the Western selection of Chinese films (for screening and for the international awards at film festivals), is highly politicized. Politicized by the distribution companies and by the critics.

Look which Chinese films receive awards at the Berlin Film Festival, or Cannes. There is never any revolutionary movie, and no social realist picture on the list.

Most of the films are dark, nihilistic, and as a rule highly critical of the Chinese political system and Chinese culture. These are not films that are admired by Chinese viewers. Instead these are films enforcing stereotypes of how Westerners perceive China.

China is evolving at great speed, and there is a huge amount of optimism accompanying this enormous leap forward. Chinese cinema is often laughing, it is falling in love, and dreaming about an even better life. "Criticism of the system" is far from the only thing that the Chinese filmmakers are interested in expressing.

The West simply loves to dig out (or even invent) all sorts of conflicts between the Chinese artists and the “system.” Remember the "Beijing Bicycle"? A good film, one has to admit, but did it really win at the Berlin Film Festival in 2001 just because it was good, or because its premiere in China was postponed due to several technical and administrative issues (the film was eventually released in 2004).

Or "I am Not Madame Bovary." I absolutely love this 2016 film directed by Feng Xiaogang. It is daring and hilarious. But it will never win any major awards in the West (it only scored some success at the Toronto Film Festival). This is because it depicts precisely what the West does not want its citizens to see: how Chinese democracy works.

How different is Chinese democracy from the Western political system? And how much power does an average Chinese citizen actually have? In this film, a mildly insane, recently divorced provincial woman, blames government officials for her collapsed marriage, and she actually shakes the government, from head to toe, because she is part of "the people.”

Naturally, "Human Flow," a film about the global refugee crises, directed by the Chinese "human rights activist" Ai Weiwei, got both substantial funding and several Western rewards, including an Oscar nomination. Was it political? Of course, it was! Even the British newspaper The Independent could not help reporting:  

“When Ai took to the annual Cinema for Peace gala, part of this year's Berlin Film Festival, to request guests to pose for photos while draped in metallic emergency blankets, the stunt was blasted as "offensively tasteless" by Artnet.”

Ai Weiwei is promoted as a "dissident," and that is already a guarantee of success in the West. Not for Western filmmakers, but for almost all Chinese, Russian or Cuban artists.

In the last five years, only one Chinese film – a thriller "Black Coal, Thin Ice" – won the main prize at of the most important film festivals in the West (Berlin, Cannes, Golden Globes, Venice, Academy Awards).

Chinese filmmakers should concentrate on their art. They are doing great. No need to excessively eye Western prizes. Periodically they come anyway, although not too often. Like in the case of that tremendous novel "Red Sorghum" by Mo Yan. Mo was awarded a Nobel Prize for Literature, and a film in the same name received several awards as well.

But it is always important to remember: The Western media and the Western "cultural establishment" are not there to promote great Chinese culture. Very often it is quite the opposite: The more harmful to China a film or a book is, the more support it receives from London, Paris or Los Angeles.

Those who love China and its great culture and art do not need the gongs of Western award shows. We always find ways to watch "The Goddess" or "I am Not Madame Bovary." And many of us are dreaming about the day when China will be known for its own super-important film festivals – when it begins to throw punches, support European and North American dissidents, and to give awards, actually judging Western filmmakers from the Chinese angle!

(Andre Vltchek is a philosopher, novelist, filmmaker and investigative journalist. The article reflects the author's opinion, and not necessarily the views of CGTN.)