Playback asked Canadian film and television production companies what they had spent on independent production in 1995. Their responses revealed that total Canadian independent production expenses for ’95 topped the $951.5 million mark with about $892 million being spent on production and over $25 million on development. Approximately $553 million was spent on producing TV drama, over $171 million on features, over $134 million on children’s programming, over $29 million on documentaries and $38.5 million on other programming (such as info/mags and specials).

In the case of coproductions or coventures, producers were asked to include only their portion of the budgets during the 1995 calendar year. See page 23 for a complete financial breakdown and page 27 for a list of production companies and their projects and people.

When Stephen Benoit made the feature For a Few Lousy Dollars in the summer of 1995 – for a measly million bucks – the Vancouver producer rolled dice in a risky game few Canadian filmmakers play. It’s called variously ‘Without a Net,’ ‘Against the Norm’ and ‘Look, Mom, No Subsidy.’

Benoit ventured into his first producer’s role eschewing the government financing trough and sidestepping available incentives as avenues more scary than going it alone. He made the action-drama about a robbery at a mob-run pizzeria by raising first $90,000 toward building preproduction momentum and then attracting $1 million from executive producer Shing Lee of Vancouver toward completion of the film.

Preproduction through post-production spanned June through September.

Benoit made up half his budget in a sale to the Germans at the afm, Showcase claimed international distribution and, at press time, Alliance and Malo were competing for Canadian distribution.

Described as a commercially viable film ‘not dissimilar’ to Pulp Fiction, Lousy Dollars is heading into the black before box office and ancillary sales.

Benoit’s goal was to produce a film without interference, without qualification, on his timeline, and autonomously from the burgeoning and lucrative fee-based service work that beckons every Vancouver producer.

He says federal and provincial agencies that offer assistance to Canadian filmmakers are cumbersome and slow. And he should know. Before moving to Vancouver, he worked at Telefilm Canada and cavco, where he was told by superiors that anxious filmmakers fuming about the status of their funding should have their applications stalled until they cooled down.

‘I know how the process works. It’s not fair,’ he testifies, adding that producers can be so hamstrung by the lengthy application processes as to lose production windows and cast. ‘There really isn’t any incentive from any level.’

In some parts of the country, producers will vociferously object to Benoit’s assertion by retelling how government incentive programs worked to make them and their companies prosperous, viable film entities.

In b.c., where film insiders are most offended by federal film policies, Benoit will have many supporters who agree with as much conviction that government programs for film are not worth the bother. They mumble these mantras: too complicated, low yield/ high anxiety, compromised quality, eastern bias. They complain about the lack of time and energy available to do local work; they say their style of commercial enterprise doesn’t loosen the purse strings of government without compromise and headache.

As an informal survey of producers across the country attests, Canadian producers either work to attract government largesse or work to order for foreign decision makers. The balancing act between doing service work and indigenous work is like making salad dressing: blending requires vigorous and sustained whisking. A scant few producers are ambidextrous enough to write grant applications while they lunch with network executives in l.a.

Of course, the focus depends on where one lives.

The hands-down winner in the incentive sweepstakes is Quebec where the four-year-old Refundable Production Tax Credit is picking up steam and is being credited with pushing indigenous production volumes through le plafond. Provincial tax credits in 1995 totaled $51 million in Quebec (up from $38 million a year earlier), fueling $286 million in domestic production. In combination with the new federal tax credit, producers have 25% of their budgets covered.

Honorable mention goes to Nova Scotia, where the film industry is being heralded as a way to replace a fraction of the jobs lost in the moribund fishery. Nova Scotia’s provincial tax credit (capped at 15% and contingent on labor expenditures in the province) is expected to propel the homespun film and television industry there to $40 million in calendar 1996, up from $17 million in 1995.

Says Roman Bittman, president of the Nova Scotia Film Development Corporation: ‘(Elected officials) have accepted the argument for a strong local industry. We have the problem of success: a shortage of crews because of the increase in demand.’

In the middle of the pack is Saskatchewan, where government officials hope to create employment for displaced farm workers, and film incentive programs are working to stimulate new growth. Because of the equity investments of Saskfilm and the Saskatchewan Opportunities Corporation, production budgets were $14.5 million and direct spending totaled $11.6 million in 1995. That’s up from $11 million in production budgets and $9 million in direct spending in 1994. There was no foreign production recorded in 1995.

The building momentum in Saskatchewan means that producers command more credibility with national broadcasters and venture partners, says Saskfilm gm Mark Prasuhn. The Prairie focuses, he adds, are no longer Edmonton and Winnipeg.

‘We have a ways to go yet to prove that we can deliver the high dramatic series,’ says Prasuhn. ‘Our technical skills are high, but our writing, production and direction are not of the caliber of a Kevin Sullivan series.’

‘It’s always nice to have someone put the first money in,’ adds Kevin DeWalt, chair and ceo of Minds Eye Pictures in Regina, which coproduced the mow Lyddie in 1995 and this spring is coproducing the miniseries The Lost Daughter with foreign partners. ‘It triggers other financing from across the country. Our continuing growth curve needs continual support from Saskfilm and (education broadcaster) scn.’

Biggest loser

Biggest loser in the seed-money giveaway? Alberta, no question, since it recently lost its Alberta Motion Picture Development Corporation and any near-future hopes that producers there will find assistance from their own tax base.

Next worst is b.c., where 75% of production is service-based, and local producers still cart out Double Happiness and Margaret’s Museum as films that got made in spite of the obstacles.

Saving a tiny Market Incentive program from British Columbia Film and an ill-used Venture Capital Corporation program, there is no provincial incentive to attract foreign investors or trigger national programs like Telefilm and the Cable Production Fund. The b.c. branch of the cftpa has failed to convince provincial officials to launch a b.c. film investment program and is changing tactics to promote a b.c. tax credit. Based on prior experience and a looming provincial election, hopes for a new incentive are not high.

All this despite a substantial filmmaking infrastructure tailored for the $300 million-plus service production sector that keeps thousands of b.c. filmmakers employed. That value of foreign service work matches the domestic work produced out of Quebec.

Producer Colleen Nystedt, president of New City Productions in Vancouver, just finished shooting Kathryn, an mow based on a true story in Vancouver about a woman assassinated by hit men hired by her mother-in-law.

Better profit

participation

An aggressive local producer struggling to nail down independent credits, Nystedt secured the story rights, wrote the screenplay, pitched it to cbs and secured a development deal with Los Angeles executive producers without once stopping at the Canadian incentive buffet. Kathryn offers her the opportunity for better profit participation, she says.

‘(u.s.) networks don’t care about Canadian content,’ Nystedt explains.

‘They think it diminishes the quality of the project. Cultural agencies like Telefilm are good for development, but they aren’t generally interested in commercial product.’

She adds: ‘I feel deserted by the federal and provincial bodies that deal with the industry. Service business is fine. It’s my bread and butter. But it’s totally volatile. Politicians need to return to the tax-shelter programs of the past or come up with a rebate program that’s more bankable for local producers.’

Nods of sympathy would come from Wayne Sterloff, president of funding agency British Columbia Film, who says ‘the level of public subsidy in b.c. is very low. Heritage Canada programs are not equal in all regions.’

He’d be joined by Matthew O’Connor, a principal of Pacific Motion Pictures in Vancouver and chair of the b.c. branch of the cftpa, who says film incentives that trickle into b.c. are pretty bleak.

‘Telefilm is negative,’ says O’Connor, who financed last year’s Magic in the Water with Triumph Films of l.a. through bank loans and guarantees.

‘Maybe they don’t like our material, but they’re not approving production in b.c. The larger companies in this country take the lion’s share of funding from the public agencies.’

Ontario is hard to categorize since it’s the only province that is truly successful in combining indigenous production with service contracts.

Despite the anemic Ontario Film Development Corporation and gutted Ontario Film Investment Program, Ontario continues to enjoy healthy indigenous production, largely because of the critical mass of large, integrated companies with access to the cpf and other Heritage Canada agencies, broadcasters, coproduction partners and foreign investors. Ontario producers are currently lobbying for an Ontario tax credit, like the one that works so well in Quebec.

In 1995, direct spending from domestic production in Ontario totaled $339 million compared to $359 million in 1994 and $269 million in 1993.

Domestic production over the past three years has represented 70% to 80% of spending.

On the service side, meanwhile, Ontario played host to foreign-owned production that spent directly into the provincial economy $157 million in 1995, $142 million in 1994 and $69 million in 1993.

Referring to the loss of funding from the ofdc and ofip, ofdc corporate communications officer Karen Tyrell says: ‘We assume a certain number of projects won’t get made. But we’re not scared (about a potential drop in domestic production). We’re waiting and seeing.’

Tom Berry, president of Montreal-based Allegro Films and the cftpa, says the uneasy relationship between service and indigenous work is a necessary discomfort. ‘I fail to see how it can serve the Canadian production community to reduce (the volume of) service production,’ he says.

The experience borne of thousands of hours as a producer-for-hire for u.s. studios gives a Canadian filmmaker priceless experience in how to create a moneymaker when he or she strikes out as an entrepreneur.

Cancon allocations, meanwhile, allow some producers enough leverage to get their projects off the ground, or attract foreign partners with promise of rebates in return for some concessions about place of birth. The issue of who owns the project’s copyright is the only demarcation of what is Canadian-made and what is not, and even that indicator is blurry.

‘More pictures will be Cancon by accident than by design,’ predicts Berry, in trying to foretell how the service-indie split will evolve. By and large, he adds, it comes down to political will.

‘In Quebec,’ Berry says, ‘no one has to seriously wonder about the (political) support of the cultural incentive mechanisms. Producers in Quebec are more secure. Even the simplest calculations (regarding the Quebec tax credit) show the government in profit.’