EVERY year, when the national budget is announced, I find myself wondering:
Will this be the year when the arts finally get a real seat at the table?
Will this be the year when the government sees the creative and entertainment industries not as mere accessories to the economy, but as an engine that drives innovation, employment, and cultural identity?
I am not asking for more grants or one-off handouts to fund events that fade away after a few months.
What I hope for is a budget that invests in long-term creative infrastructure — one that allows artists, filmmakers, and creators to thrive sustainably, without having to beg for help every year.
Infrastructure is the heartbeat of an industry
If we truly want Malaysia’s film industry to grow, we must stop treating entertainment as an expense and start viewing it as a long-term national investment.
We often admire how South Korea dominates the world with K-pop and K-drama, but few realize that their success began more than 20 years ago — through massive government investment in production studios, facilities, and creative technology.
I’ve been to studios in Korea that feature massive underwater sets — complete with artificial wave tanks and lighting systems beneath the surface. Imagine if Malaysia had something like that. We could shoot maritime dramas, rescue thrillers, even historical epics, all within our own borders.
We could also build permanent backlot sets that recreate Malaysia’s palaces, colonial streets, city halls, courthouses, hospitals, and police stations, so filmmakers don’t have to shut down entire city blocks just to achieve realism.
The idea of a “Pinewood Malaysia” in Iskandar was brilliant — but it lacked long-term structural support. If we revive that idea, we must ensure the facilities are accessible to all Malaysian producers, not just a privileged few.
Such infrastructure could become a new source of national income, rented to local and international productions alike.
If Thailand can attract Hollywood studios with its facilities, why can’t we? It begins with one thing: the courage to rebuild our creative foundation.
Art is not just soul — it’s an economy
Behind every work of art lies a human struggle. Most artists, musicians, writers, and filmmakers live from project to project. Some years are good; others, brutal. Yet our tax system treats them like stable corporate workers with predictable incomes — which they are not.
That’s why I hope Budget 2026 will introduce a genuine tax reform for creative professionals.
In Ireland, income from creative work — music, film, literature, visual art — is exempted from tax up to €50,000 per year. This allows artists to reinvest in better tools, education, and production — instead of living from paycheck to paycheck.
If Malaysia adopted something similar, our creative community could finally breathe, save, and plan for their next masterpiece without financial fear.
Corporate Malaysia could also play a huge role.
The government could offer double tax deductions for companies that fund or sponsor creative productions — as Australia does through its Creative Partnerships Initiative.
If corporations see the arts not as charity but as a strategic investment, we could finally have a real creative economy — one that circulates, employs, and inspires.
Protect the rights of creators
Another urgent issue — and I say this as a filmmaker who has lived it — is the ownership of intellectual property (IP).
Many Malaysian producers and directors lose control of their creations because of outdated broadcaster policies.
For example, when a national broadcaster like RTM commissions a show, it often purchases all rights, meaning the creator loses ownership entirely. Once aired, the producer can’t resell, relicense, or export that show abroad.
If Malaysia truly wants to become a global creative player, this policy must change. RTM and other state broadcasters should only acquire broadcast licenses for a limited term — say, two years — instead of owning the entire IP.
If they want full IP rights, then they should pay market rates, as BBC, Netflix, or Disney do.
Without creators, there is no industry. And without ownership, there is no motivation to innovate.
We talk about wanting to “go global” — but how can we if our own works don’t even belong to us?
We need a policy that lets Malaysian creators keep their IP so they can market their shows to Cannes Film Market, Busan Film Market, or Hong Kong Filmart. That’s how we build a true creative export economy.
From dependence to empowerment
It’s time the government stops viewing the arts as a group that needs help, and starts recognising it as a sector that creates real economic value.
Every film set employs hundreds — makeup artists, drivers, caterers, tailors, camera crews, extras — all earning a living.
That’s not just entertainment. That’s an economic ecosystem.
If we get the ecosystem right — infrastructure, fair tax, and IP protection — we won’t need constant subsidies. We’ll stand on our own, producing better work and telling stories that truly represent Malaysia to the world.
A creator’s hope
I don’t write this just as a director or actor. I write this as someone who has spent more than 25 years living, breathing, and struggling in the creative world — and who still believes in the incredible potential of Malaysian talent.
My hope for Budget 2026 is not about numbers on paper. It’s about a long-term vision that recognizes that art is both the soul of a nation and the future of its economy.
Give us the tools, the space, and the protection we need — and I promise, we will not just create beauty; we will build value.
The creative industry doesn’t just tell stories. It creates jobs, inspires innovation, and defines who we are as Malaysians. – October 7, 2025
***Datuk Afdlin Shauki Aksan is a filmmaker, producer and president of the Malaysian Film Directors’ Association (FDAM)