County ticket prices surpass first-tier cities, causing the cost of watching movies during the Spring Festival to invert. The underlying logic is worth deep reflection.

In 2026, the nationwide average ticket price for the Spring Festival holiday was 49.8 yuan, down 1.5 yuan year-over-year, but the average prices in counties like Laizhou, Shandong, reached 60-70 yuan, surpassing surrounding prefecture-level cities. Why does the sinking market, which supports half of the box office, have to pay the highest prices?

On the first day of the Lunar New Year in 2026, third- and fourth-tier cities contributed 53.22% of the total box office, becoming the main force of the Spring Festival release. But ironically, the audiences supporting this market are paying higher viewing costs than those in first- and second-tier cities—ticket prices in Laizhou, Shandong, even exceeded those in Yantai, Qingdao, and other nearby cities.

For families in counties, watching movies during the Spring Festival has long shifted from entertainment to a reunion ritual, and cinemas have seized this “rigid emotional demand” to package what was once a mass consumer product into a festive luxury. This premium pricing, however, is quietly draining the enthusiasm for movies in the sinking markets.

Compared to first-tier cities, residents in counties typically earn between 3,000 and 5,000 yuan per month. The cost of a family movie outing (including snacks) approaches 10% of their monthly income, whereas in first-tier cities, this ratio is only 2-3%. This difference in cost perception is causing many families to abandon this traditional ritual.

The “Spring Festival dependence” of county cinemas is not an isolated phenomenon but a common situation in sinking markets. Unlike the high foot traffic and frequent screenings of first-tier city cinemas, county cinemas exhibit an extreme “pulse-like” pattern: their revenue during the 10-day Spring Festival period must cover a full year’s fixed costs.

On regular days, county cinemas often have less than 10% occupancy, and there have been cases with only one viewer per screening. Fixed expenses like rent, equipment maintenance, and staff wages hang over cinemas like the Sword of Damocles, forcing them to “profit heavily” during the Spring Festival to stay afloat.

This “one-shot deal” model is actually a form of self-destructive behavior. Once audiences get used to the expectation of “price hikes during Spring Festival,” they gradually shift their viewing demand to home KTV, nearby travel, and other entertainment options. Over time, the flow of customers during the Spring Festival will be diverted.

Many people do not realize that box office revenue does not go entirely to cinemas; it is split among producers, distributors, and theaters. County cinemas are in an absolutely weak bargaining position within this revenue-sharing system, with almost no negotiation power.

Top-tier cinemas in first-tier cities, thanks to their high box office contributions, can secure a 50-55% share, earning over 20 yuan per 40-yuan ticket. In contrast, county cinemas usually only get 43% or less, meaning they need to sell tickets above 47 yuan to earn 20 yuan profit.

This imbalance in revenue sharing fundamentally results from industry resources concentrating in leading players. Major cinemas can reduce costs through scale effects, while county cinemas can only survive in the gaps, ultimately passing costs onto viewers.

Even worse, the monopoly-like structure of county cinemas further drives up ticket prices. Many counties have only one or two cinemas, and the lack of competition gives them pricing power. With no other options, audiences are forced to passively accept high prices.

To break this vicious cycle, relying solely on short-term subsidies is insufficient; a long-term, mutually beneficial model must be established. First, content providers could introduce differentiated revenue-sharing policies for sinking markets, such as increasing county cinemas’ share by 10%, giving them room to lower prices.

Second, local governments could issue “ticket subsidies” during regular days rather than only during the Spring Festival, encouraging audiences to develop regular movie-going habits and reducing dependence on the holiday period. For example, a county in Henan once launched 10-yuan benefit coupons, which increased weekday attendance by 30%.

Finally, cinemas themselves need to proactively innovate by hosting family-friendly screenings, senior discounts, rural-themed film events, and other specialized sessions to tap into the segmented needs of sinking markets. Only when cinemas diversify their revenue sources can they escape the “Spring Festival gamble” dilemma.

Watching movies during the Spring Festival should be a warm family reunion, not a cost calculation. When the movie-going demand in sinking markets is no longer hostage to premium prices, and cinemas can maintain steady patronage during regular days, the entire Spring Festival film market can truly achieve healthy development.