TVB的黃金時代曾是無數華語觀眾心中的光輝記憶，從經典的《射鵰英雄傳》《大時代》，到較近的《金枝慾孽》《溏心風暴》，這家電視台不僅塑造許多耳熟能詳的角色，更成為一代人共同的文化回憶。然而，如今的TVB卻面臨人才流失、內容老化與市場萎縮等多重危機。即便官方在2025年聲稱「轉虧為盈」，卻難以掩蓋其實質的衰敗。為什麼這個昔日的「港劇王國」，再難重現榮光。

首先，人才流失成為TVB最大的內傷。這間昔日的「造星工廠」曾培養出無數巨星，從周潤發、劉德華到佘詩曼，皆出自其門下。然而現在，藝人出走成為常態。僅2025年前兩個月，就有超過十位藝人離巢，包括轉戰中國大陸的黃智賢，疑遭雪藏的李佳芯，以及因緋聞被冷處理的江嘉敏等。TVB薪資低得難以置信，一線小生月薪不到三萬港幣，配角更要靠兼職維生。曾有老戲骨如廖啟智街頭賣衣、車保羅甚至為母辦喪事都籌不出錢。此外，山頭文化與內部鬥爭亦使人才難以安心發展。例如郭子豪因酒駕被雪藏，李佳芯則因政治言論被邊緣化。如今TVB只能靠老將如陳豪、譚俊彥撐場，新人後繼無人，觀眾甚至揶揄：「連《東張西望》都快湊不齊主持人了。」

其次，內容老化也是TVB衰退的主因之一。港劇過去以緊湊劇情、貼近生活的題材著稱，然而現在卻陷入題材重複與製作粗糙的困局。無論是警匪劇、豪門鬥爭還是職場戲，皆是一再翻炒，讓觀眾產生嚴重審美疲勞。演員古天樂就曾坦言：「香港電影還在用老套路，怎麼與內地競爭？」在製作層面，為節省成本，劇組不斷重用布景與服裝，特效水準更被嘲諷為「五毛錢特效」。對比內地如《狂飆》《琅琊榜》的高質量製作，TVB劇集無疑顯得廉價而過時。此外，合拍劇為了迎合大陸市場而修改劇本，也讓劇集失去原本「港味」，如《法證先鋒5》就被批評兩頭不討好。雖然像2023年的《新聞女王》因題材新穎而小爆一波，但類似創新作品過於稀少，難以改變整體頹勢。

再者，整體市場格局的變動也是TVB難以應對的外部挑戰。曾經壟斷香港娛樂的TVB，如今在面對內地崛起的影視產業與全球串流平台的衝擊下，顯得力不從心。中國市場的龐大已不可同日而語，一部《哪吒2》就可創下150億票房，而香港全年的電影產量還不到十部。古天樂坦言：「現在不是減薪問題，是根本沒人願意投資香港電影。」此外，Netflix、愛奇藝等平台提供更豐富多元的內容選擇，TVB傳統的「電視捞飯」收視模式被淘汰，而旗下myTV SUPER的成長亦相當有限。儘管TVB近年積極推動大灣區戰略，但比起早已進軍合拍劇市場的優酷、騰訊，顯得太慢一步。

而在企業結構與管理方面，TVB同樣面臨嚴重僵化問題。其薪資制度仍採包薪制，使得藝人收入遠低於內地市場，自然加劇出走潮。科技應用方面亦顯落後，例如AI、超高清製作等技術直到2025年才開始與華為合作智能配音，明顯慢於大陸早已實施的AI生成劇本等先進應用。此外，管理層保守、創新能力不足，導致決策緩慢。曾任導演的鍾澍佳就批評TVB：「還沉迷於『港劇好勁』的自我感動，卻沒看到現實的殘酷。」

雖然TVB並非完全坐以待斃，近年也有若干改革行動。例如與騰訊合作製作《新聞女王2》《笑傲江湖》，希望重返合拍劇市場；也安排旗下藝人如陳豪進行直播帶貨，甚至創下單場GMV超過2.5億的紀錄；此外也在廣州、深圳設置製作中心，力圖加強大灣區佈局。然而，這些表面改革仍無法改變核心問題——如果TVB依然依賴老藝人與老套路，而不積極培養新血與創作新內容，最終仍可能步上已沒落的亞視後塵。正如古天樂所說：「香港影視需要的不只是減薪，而是徹底重生。」

總而言之，TVB的衰敗不只是單一企業的困境，更是整個香港影視產業從輝煌走向邊緣的縮影。它輸給了內地龐大資本與製作實力，輸給串流時代的內容革命，更輸給自己長年的保守與自滿。或許正如網友調侃：「現在的TVB，連拍《難兄難弟》續集都不敢，怕演員跑光了！」曾經每晚七點半，一家人圍坐電視機前收看《皆大歡喜》的那段時光，已然成為回不去的集體記憶。而未來的TVB，若無法真正自我革新，也許只能在歷史中留下一段黃金時代的懷舊傳說。

The golden age of TVB was once a brilliant chapter in the hearts of countless Chinese-speaking audiences. From timeless classics like The Legend of the Condor Heroes and The Greed of Man to more recent hits such as War and Beauty and Heart of Greed, this television station not only created a roster of iconic characters but also became a shared cultural memory for generations. However, today’s TVB faces multiple crises, including talent drain, outdated content, and a shrinking market. Even though the company officially claimed a “return to profitability” in 2025, it can hardly conceal its overall decline. Why is it that this once proud “Kingdom of Hong Kong Dramas” finds it nearly impossible to recapture its past glory?

First and foremost, the exodus of talent has become TVB’s most significant internal wound. Once known as a “star-making factory,” TVB nurtured numerous superstars, from Chow Yun-fat and Andy Lau to Charmaine Sheh. But today, the departure of artists has become routine. In just the first two months of 2025, over ten artists left the company, including Hugo Ng (who moved to mainland China), Ali Lee (rumored to be sidelined), and Kaman Kong (reportedly frozen out due to scandals). Salaries are shockingly low—top male leads earn less than HK$30,000 a month, while supporting actors often rely on side jobs to survive. Veteran actor Liu Kai-chi once had to sell clothes on the street, and Paul Che had trouble affording his mother’s funeral. Moreover, factionalism and internal politics plague the company, discouraging professional growth. For example, Matthew Ko was blacklisted after a DUI, while Ali Lee was marginalized for her political comments. These days, TVB relies on veterans like Moses Chan and Shaun Tam to carry productions, with a clear lack of new blood. As one viewer sarcastically remarked, “They can barely assemble a full team of hosts for Scoop.”

Another major issue is the aging of content. TVB dramas were once celebrated for fast-paced, grounded storytelling, but now they are stuck in a loop of recycled themes and low production quality. Police procedurals, wealthy family feuds, and workplace dramas are endlessly reused, resulting in severe audience fatigue. Actor Louis Koo bluntly stated, “Hong Kong productions are still relying on outdated formulas—how can they compete with the mainland?” To cut costs, production crews reuse sets and costumes, while special effects are mocked as “budget CGI.” Compared to the mainland's high-quality productions such as The Knockout and Nirvana in Fire, TVB dramas feel cheap and outdated. Additionally, co-productions intended to appeal to mainland audiences often involve script changes that dilute the distinct “Hong Kong flavor.” Forensic Heroes 5, for example, was criticized for trying to please everyone but satisfying no one. Though there were occasional bright spots—The Queen of News in 2023 achieved moderate success thanks to its refreshing female-centric narrative—such innovations are too rare to reverse the general trend.

The changing media landscape poses another external challenge that TVB has struggled to meet. Once monopolizing the Hong Kong entertainment scene, TVB now finds itself overwhelmed by the rise of mainland China’s film and TV industry and global streaming platforms. The sheer scale of the Chinese market is incomparable—a single film like Ne Zha 2 can generate 15 billion yuan at the box office, while Hong Kong produces fewer than ten films a year. As Louis Koo put it, “It’s no longer just about cutting salaries—no one wants to invest in Hong Kong films anymore.” Streaming giants like Netflix and iQIYI offer far more variety, rendering TVB’s traditional “dinner-time television” model obsolete. Even its digital platform myTV SUPER has seen limited growth. Although TVB has recently tried to pivot toward the Greater Bay Area, it lags behind established mainland players like Youku and Tencent, who have long dominated the co-production market.

Within the company, structural and managerial rigidity further complicates its survival. TVB continues to use an outdated salary system, where fixed-salary contracts leave actors earning far less than their mainland counterparts, worsening the talent drain. Its technological adoption is also slow—AI dubbing and UHD production only began in 2025 in partnership with Huawei, far behind mainland studios already using AI-generated scripts and other advanced tools. Conservative leadership and lack of innovation have led to sluggish decision-making. Former TVB director Jonathan Chik once criticized, “TVB is still lost in its self-congratulatory belief that ‘Hong Kong dramas are great,’ while ignoring the harsh reality.”

That said, TVB has not entirely given up. In recent years, it has undertaken several reform initiatives. It partnered with Tencent to produce The Queen of News 2 and a new adaptation of The Smiling, Proud Wanderer, aiming to reenter the co-production scene. Some artists, like Moses Chan, have turned to livestream sales, once generating over 250 million HKD in a single session. TVB also established production centers in Guangzhou and Shenzhen in an attempt to strengthen its presence in the Greater Bay Area. However, these surface-level efforts fail to address the core problem: if TVB continues to rely on old faces and outdated formulas without cultivating new talent or innovating content, it risks ending up like the now-defunct ATV. As Louis Koo said, “Hong Kong’s film and TV industry doesn’t just need pay cuts—it needs a complete rebirth.”

In conclusion, TVB’s decline is not merely the struggle of a single company but a microcosm of Hong Kong’s broader retreat from its once-glorious entertainment era. It has been outpaced by mainland capital and production capability, outclassed by the content revolution of the streaming era, and ultimately undone by its own conservatism and complacency. As one netizen joked, “TVB wouldn’t dare film a sequel to Old Time Buddy now—because all the actors would’ve quit!” The golden era when families gathered around the TV at 7:30 p.m. for Virtues of Harmony has become a relic of the past. Unless TVB undergoes real, sweeping transformation, it may be remembered only as a nostalgic legend of a bygone golden age.