International
Belinda Lui steps down as MPA head – APAC; Urmila Venugopalan to replace her
MUMBAI: It’s time to say goodbye to the Motion Picture Association (MPA). Belinda Lui who led the MPA for the past five years as president & managing director for the Asia Pacific has decided to hang up her boots.
Belinda during her five years did a lot of work to take the Asia Pacific film industry forward as well as push Hollywood in the region. According to her during her term, the MPA:
• Improved cultural exchanges between nations, through expanding access for American films and TV dramas to priority markets like China and achieving 15-20 per cent incremental box office revenue.
• Fueled local economies and built capacity in markets like Australia, Japan, India, New Zealand and Thailand through competitive film and TV production incentives (up to 40 per cent in tax rebates in Australia alone).
• Supported thousands of emerging filmmakers from almost 30 countries/territories in the Asia-Pacific through our film grants and LA training programs, with some of those projects going on to win the Academy Award and international Emmy.
Belinda, who, through her 30 year career, worked for companies like Warner Media, Microsoft and Baker McKenzie, has decided to offer her services to companies as an independent non-executive director and spend as much time as she can with her family.
She is being replaced on 31 January by Urmila Venugopalan , currently executive vice president of strategy & global operations at the MPA. In her new role, Venugopalan will work on expanding access to local markets and promoting production in new areas, as well other advocacy activities across the region. She also will work with the MPA’s anti-piracy arm, the Alliance for Creativity and Entertainment, or Ace. Venugopalan will retain her duties as the MPA’s corporate board liaison.
She will be based in Tokyo and report to MPA senior vice president, global policy & government affairs Gail MacKinnon.
MPA chairman & CEO Charles Rivkin said in a statement that Venugopalan “is a veteran leader who thrives at the complex intersections of business, public policy, and global affairs.”
He said that she “joined the MPA (in 2017) at a time of critical change and helped revitalise and realign its structure and priorities, strengthening our organisation from the inside out. I have full confidence that her deep experience working with every aspect of our global business operations, coupled with her existing corporate board liaison responsibilities, will advance our members’ objectives across the Asia Pacific and beyond.”
“Venugopalan is a trusted advisor who has earned the respect of colleagues and member companies. Her work has already touched every part of our organization, and she maintains a wide-angle lens on key political and sectoral trends – all while remaining laser-focused on how we can best tell the story of a creative industry that drives local economies, creates jobs, and connects communities everywhere,” said MacKinnon. “With her at the helm of our APAC operation, I am confident the MPA will achieve even greater impact in the fastest-growing region. I am also grateful to Belinda for her effective stewardship and counsel, which has greatly benefited the MPA and our member studios in the region.”
“The Asia-Pacific region has already played an important part in the history of our industry – and is set to assume a starring role in the future of great storytelling,” said Venugopalan. “At this critical juncture for the film, television and streaming industries, MPA members are more excited than ever about the vitality of this region – its enthusiastic and engaged audiences, its relentless dynamism, and its immensely talented casts and crews. I look forward to supporting our member studios and their local partners in their collective efforts to fuel local economies and enrich cultures across the region.”
Before joining the MPA, Venugopalan served as a member of the policy planning staff at the US state department in Washington and as a senior consultant at the Albright Stonebridge group. She holds a bachelor’s degree from McGill University and a master’s degree from the London School of Economics & Political Science.
LOS ANGELES: Acting has never been an easy profession, but in recent years, it has acquired a new existential anxiety. Artificial intelligence can now mimic faces, clone voices and, in theory at least, speak any language it is fed. The fear that actors may soon be replaced by algorithms no longer belongs exclusively to science fiction. And yet, despite the rise of digital inauthenticity, some performers remain stubbornly resistant to replacement. The reason is not celebrity, nor even talent. It is language.
On paper, this should not be a problem. AI can translate. It can imitate accents. It can string together grammatically correct sentences in dozens of languages. But acting, inconveniently, is not about grammatical correctness. It is about meaning, and meaning is where AI still falters.
Machine translation offers a cautionary tale. Google Translate, now powered by neural AI, has improved markedly since its debut in 2006. It can manage menus, emails and airport signage with impressive efficiency. What it struggles with, however, are the moments that matter most: idioms, metaphors, irony, and cultural shorthand. Ask it to translate a joke, a threat disguised as politeness, or a line heavy with emotional subtext, and it begins to unravel. Acting lives precisely in those gaps.
This matters because film language is rarely literal. Scripts, particularly in independent cinema, rely on figurative speech and symbolism to convey what characters cannot say outright. Pedro Almodóvar’s Volver is a useful example. The film’s recurring use of red operates on multiple levels: grief, desire, repression, liberation, and memory. These meanings are inseparable from the Spanish cultural context and emotional cadence. A translation may convey the words, but not the weight they carry. An AI-generated performance might replicate the sound, but not the sense.
This is where multilingual actors gain their edge. Performers such as Penélope Cruz and Sofía Vergara do not simply switch between languages; they move between cultural logics. Their fluency allows them to inhabit characters without flattening them for international consumption. Language, for them, is not an accessory but a structuring force.
Beyond European cinema, this becomes even more pronounced. Languages such as Hindi, Arabic and Mandarin are spoken by hundreds of millions of people and underpin vast cinematic traditions. As global audiences grow more interconnected, the demand for authenticity increases rather than diminishes. Viewers can tell when a performance has been filtered through approximation. Subtle errors, misplaced emphasis, and an unnatural rhythm break the illusion.
There is also a practical dimension. Multilingualism expands opportunity. Sofía Vergara has spoken openly about how learning English enabled her to work beyond Colombia and access Hollywood roles. But this movement is not a one-way export of talent into English-speaking cinema. Multilingual actors carry stories, styles and sensibilities back with them, enriching multiple industries at once.
Cinema has always thrived on such hybridity. Denzel Washington’s performances, for instance, draw on the cultural realities of growing up African American in the United States, while also reflecting stylistic influences from classic Hollywood and Westerns. His work demonstrates how identity and influence intersect on screen. Multilingual actors extend this intersection further, embodying multiple cultural frameworks simultaneously.
At times, linguistic authenticity is not merely artistic but ethical. Films that confront historical trauma, such as Schindler’s List, rely on language to anchor their moral seriousness. When Jewish actors perform in German, the choice is not incidental. Language becomes a site of memory and confrontation. It is difficult to imagine an automated voice carrying that responsibility without hollowing it out.
This is why claims that AI heralds the death of language miss the point. Language is not just a delivery system for information. It is a repository of history, humour, power and pain. Fluency is not only about knowing what to say, but when to hesitate, when to understate, and when to let silence do the work. These are not technical problems waiting to be solved; they are human instincts shaped by lived experience.
AI may one day improve its grasp of metaphor and nuance. It may even learn to sound convincing. But acting is not about sounding convincing; it is about being convincing. Until algorithms can acquire memory, cultural inheritance and emotional intuition, multilingual actors will remain irreplaceable. AI may learn to speak. But it cannot yet learn to mean.
In an industry increasingly tempted by shortcuts, language remains stubbornly resistant to automation. And for actors who can move between worlds, linguistic, cultural, and emotional, that resistance is not a weakness, but a quiet, enduring advantage.
