Not only individuals but also entire groups of citizens fall into the vortex of fraud in our country. Another story, another scandal that has led to a criminal case.

Parents of children who believed promises of film shoots are now demanding the return of large sums – up to 1.6 million tenge per family. The incident has already led to a criminal investigation against one of the film studios that actively advertised paid castings for children on social media. Well-known Kazakh actors appeared in the promotional videos.

So, the cost of a "ticket to big cinema" ranged from 1.5 to 1.6 million tenge per child. Some parents, believing in their children's future, took out loans for this. There are about a hundred victims in Almaty, and at least 16 families in Shymkent. In the end, the parents created a shared chat – all holding contracts with the studio and payment receipts. They filed a collective statement with the police.

The parents reported that they were lured by promises: shoots in real film projects, participation in premieres and the red carpet, as well as personal meetings with celebrities, and the awarding of statuettes resembling Oscars. The castings were held in Almaty and Shymkent, and according to the victims, almost all children were approved. The organizers used classic manipulation techniques: demanding an immediate decision, pressuring with guilt, convincing doubters that parents must support a talented child.

The reality turned out to be completely different: the promised serious professional shoots never took place. The children only managed to attend a few classes, taught not by famous actors but by graduates of theater schools. After that, the company's office closed, and representatives stopped getting in touch.

A number of well-known Kazakh actors unequivocally called the situation fraud and urged parents to be critical of such dubious offers.

The Almaty police have launched a criminal case on charges of fraud. The press service of the Police Department reported: "Regarding this fact, the police department of the Bostandyq district has initiated a criminal case. A series of investigative measures is being conducted."

Complaints from victims have also been registered in Shymkent. It is reported that the studio head previously promised to return the money but has now stopped communicating. An answering machine message at the company announced "temporary financial difficulties" and a suspension of the project. It states that the company is not renouncing its obligations and is considering options for a partial refund or completing the project after stabilization.

The scandal surrounding the film studio has exposed a long-standing problem: fraudsters actively use the names of famous people and play on parental ambitions to extort large sums. Although, as is known, in the real film business, actors are paid for their work, not the other way around.

Questions also arise about the responsibility of celebrities whose names and images become a cover for outright fraud. Currently, the victims hope for a fair investigation and the return of their money, while the police continue investigative measures.

Today, we can state a fact – the dream of cinema has more than once become a trap for children and their parents who showed naivety and gullibility, believing in the tempting idea of getting into film or advertising. Many of them thought it was a chance to get a real ticket to a better life for their child.

Thus, the vanity of adults has created fertile ground for cynical manipulation. The fraudulent scheme of a pseudo-film studio conducting castings has turned into a way to extort money. Although outwardly, everything seems impeccable. The search for young talents through advertisements and targeted advertising, an innocuous-looking invitation to a casting and, in the future, to roles in films. And the conditions are simple – children aged 5 to 12 are needed, artistic, photogenic. How could one not respond?

I can picture the scene: mass auditions, crowds of anxious parents, dressed-up children. Hype, in a word. The bustle of the organizers. Word of mouth: we went to the casting, and you?

Theater university students instead of the promised actors, teaching how to portray emotions. Families eagerly awaiting the results. After all, everyone was told that their child was talented, with natural charisma. An acting future is almost in hand, but first, you have to pay.

And the parents paid, receiving a receipt and a class schedule. But soon, the connection with "big cinema" breaks off. The "acting courses" turn out to be an amateur club, without the promised film shoots. The office disappears. The cynicism of this scheme lies in the fact that it not only steals money but also faith and hopes – especially from the children, to whom adults have taught a lesson about the dark side of our everyday existence.

Families who sincerely believed in the project faced cruel disappointment. Hit in the wallet, the parents felt cheated, saying goodbye to their desire to give their child a bright cinematic future. The situation has created a false idea about creativity: that it does not require work, but is bought for money. Through the back door.

How many such schemes have there already been? Shattered parental ambitions, vanity turned into deceit. As they say: we wanted the best, but it turned out as always…

For many, this is a bitter lesson that raises a legitimate question: shouldn’t such "film studios" have a license for the right to teach and conduct castings? Why is art intertwined with commerce? Where are the regulators of this field looking?

The story has caused a stir, with numerous angry comments appearing on social media. Askar Kaimakov wrote about his disappointment with a famous actor whose name became the brand of this film studio: "Last fall, he distributed a video on social media urging children to audition for his film. My daughter successfully passed the audition; she was praised, but immediately told that I had to pay 1.5 million tenge for preparation for the shoot and the shoot itself. Since my daughter really wanted it, there was no choice, and I paid. They promised a leading role, a limousine ride, and a walk down the red carpet. But none of that happened. For two or three months, my daughter went there for acting classes (which were pointless), and recently they announced that there would be no shoot. Then it turned out that all children were praised at the audition and promised the lead role. In the end – a lot of time wasted and money lost. My daughter is upset."

Maya Bektursynkyzy suggests: "We need to put such agencies under monitoring and shut down these schemes. They are all engaged in fraud and scams." Oleg Lvov reported that "I heard about this whole chain about a year ago. So, this process has been going on for many years. Something similar happened in 1998, where a famous photographer was the brand." Alimzhan Tokhtakhunov also shared his story: "Honestly, I'm surprised. You could see the scam from a mile away. It's as old as... the hills. 25 years ago, my eldest participated in the 'Charming Miss' contest. There were real competitions, photo portfolios, calendars, and a concert with awards. My daughter also got a nomination, 2nd place. Everything was real. But a week after the contest, the calls started. Invitations to shoot in commercials and films. But... through training. I made inquiries through my channels: training cost five thousand bucks, no guarantees. Out of 200 children, only three actually appeared in commercials. And those were the children of influential people in the city. Then they called for several years, trying to lure us."

Zhanna Assanova recalls: "It started back in 2007. My eldest and I were at such a casting, and we were told that we passed. The child's joy knew no bounds. Then they told me I had to pay a certain amount, I don't remember how much, but we didn't have that kind of money. In the end, I had to make a huge effort and use a lot of imagination so that my six-year-old daughter wouldn't suffer psychological trauma and disappointment. Instead, I got all of that. It's a pity there were no social media like now. We just silently swallowed it..."

"ENTRY FEES" FOR THE DISTRIBUTION OF KAZAKH FILMS

Other issues have emerged in the film industry. The Department of the Agency for the Protection and Development of Competition reported that "in Almaty, signs of violation of antimonopoly legislation were found in the Kinopark – Kinoplexx Theatres cinema chain." These consisted of the fact that "Kazakh film producers were required to pay an advertising budget, without which films were simply not allowed to be shown in the chain: to get into distribution, creators of domestic cinema had to first pay 'entry fees'." According to the antimonopoly authority, such conditions restricted competition, hindered the release of new films into the market, and dealt a blow to the development of Kazakh cinema, which is already going through a difficult period.

On the one hand, we see growing interest in the national product, the emergence of films that fill theaters, and recognition at international festivals. On the other hand, the facts revealed by the antimonopoly authority have exposed a systemic problem that for years strangled the industry at its root. It turned out that a domestic film's entry into wide distribution depended not on its artistic value or expected audience interest, but on the producer's ability to pay the so-called "advertising budget" to the cinema chains. In essence, the market was closed behind "entry fees," turning art into a business with opaque rules of the game. Figuratively speaking, domestic films were allowed onto screens under conditions that opened the door through the "back entrance."

The problem identified by the antimonopoly authority lies not so much in corruption (although that is not ruled out), but rather in the violation of basic principles of a market economy and competition protection. In a healthy market environment, cinemas are interested in content: the more quality films, the higher the attendance. However, the practice where a distributor demands that the producer pay for advertising support as a condition for access to screenings turns this logic on its head. The film producer finds themselves in the position of a supplicant, forced to pay not for the result (box office receipts), but for the opportunity to enter the race.

This system deals a double blow to competition. Low-budget films, auteur cinema, debuts by young directors who simply do not have a reserve "advertising fund" are automatically left out. Even if a film is talented and has the potential to become an audience hit, it physically cannot compete with large projects backed by substantial investors or government funding, capable of covering the non-core expenses of the "entry ticket."

This also negatively affects the development of the entire industry. When the main selection criterion becomes not audience interest and product quality, but the presence of "administrative resources" or funds to pay for the distributor's services, producers lose the incentive to improve quality. What is the point of fighting for a script, seeking talented cinematographers, or raising the level of acting, if the path to the screen lies not through the viewer's heart, but through the cinema chain's accounting department? This creates a vicious circle: lack of competition leads to a decline in quality, and the decline in quality leads to a loss of viewer interest in the domestic product.

It seems that in this case, the antimonopoly authority is acting as the arbiter intent on returning the market to the legal framework. The essence of the regulator's claims is that such demands constitute a form of abuse of a dominant position. In Kazakhstan, as in many countries, large cinema chains hold a significant market share. By dictating "entry ticket" conditions to producers, they effectively establish barriers to entry for new players into the market, which is a direct violation of the Law "On Competition."

For the real development of Kazakh cinema, it is necessary not only to identify and stop violators but also to change the very philosophy of the relationship between content creators and exhibition platforms. The state, allocating funds to support cinema, must strengthen control not only over the creative aspects but also over guarantees of audience access to the finished product, so that taxpayers' money does not sink into the "advertising budgets" of distributors, and so that such phenomena do not destroy a promising industry.

Kazakh cinema today needs a level playing field, and only then can we talk about a healthy market where the winner is not the one who paid more for the right to enter, but the one who managed to earn the audience's attention.

We hope that the official notification sent by the antimonopoly authority to the violators, as well as the overall situation in film-related affairs – with dubious castings and opaque rules of the film market – will become a reason for closer attention to this sphere from the Ministry of Culture.

By Asiya NURIMBETOVA,
Special Correspondent, "Yuridicheskaya
Gazeta" (Legal Newspaper)