Something may have sparked recently in Canadian film and television. That pervasive fog of mediocrity – the eternal stigma of the ‘Cancon’ label which has poisoned the minds of our audiences for decades – seems to be lifting.

Could it be we are finished with navel-gazing stories from small-town perspectives? Our output may have finally turned a corner and we seem to have stepped up to a level of respect we’ve never enjoyed before. Perhaps producers are no longer comfortable to settle for their little spot on the dial. If this is true, it could signal a seismic shift for our culture. The culture of ‘tall poppy’ egalitarianism: sharing, fairness, equality and the passive aggressive root-choking that goes with it.

But if we hope to continue on this path we’d better be careful how we proceed.

All the incredible government support that has brought us to this particular turning point in history has undoubtedly been a blessing. A mixed one. The financial support of any sort of artistic pursuit is a strange and complex beast.

Compared with most countries, Canada is spoiled with government riches in film and TV – evenly meted out in small, small doses mind you – but opportunities are nonetheless available to anyone with the ability and patience to navigate a complex set of applications and regulations. On paper (loads of it!), it’s a wonderfully inclusive system that gives all of our small-poppy creative class an equal chance to express themselves – provided they have the bureaucratic acumen or a trustworthy business affiliate to navigate the red tape for them.

The problem has always been, no one has really wanted to watch many of these safe stories – for whatever reason. That reason might just possibly have been tied to the system itself and how it unconsciously yet effectively screens out any ‘risk’ from what gets made: leaving what has become a series of nice, gentle, small stories told by ordinary Canadians. Sometimes interesting. Mostly not.

But these ‘peer to peer’ stories now have a better place to live: the Internet, the perfect place for niche stories which appeal to small groups of people. These stories fade back into the collective unconscious just as quickly as they are brought from it.

But the curated stories, the ones brought to us via our evolved and now mature system of commissioning agents, producers, distributors and programming directors entrusted to create screen-based entertainment in Canada, now need to be better than ever to sustain the taxpayer investment.

It’s time to loosen the roots and let a few of our taller poppies rise.

The comfort provided by our tax-credit regimen must not be taken for granted anymore. Producers must be held to a much higher standard for accepting this money. Just getting a show or a movie made is not enough.

It’s easy to get lazy when you know the loan doesn’t really have to be repaid or when the labor is heavily subsidized. It’s easy to lose your edge. It’s not Canadian – it’s human nature. Why try harder when there is no consequence for failure? But perhaps if we acknowledge and accept blame for our failures we can start to raise expectations for our industry.

In any economy there are advantages and disadvantages to funding and supporting the arts. In the U.S., the mandate for exceptionalism is defined by starving out the mediocrity and heavily rewarding that which emerges above the rest.

Like it or not, it is a system that inspires success and often greatness, and no one can deny that the rewards it promises are no small factor in its success.

Without proposing we completely abandon our socialist cultural heritage, it is imperative that Canadians with any sort of ambition toward telling stories to each other, learn to tell them on the bigger ‘curated stages’ – the ones that consider the larger audiences – wherever they might be: China, India, the U.S. or Europe. It’s the only way we’ll be able to talk to each other as Canadians and expect to be heard.

Frank Falcone is creative director/president of Guru Studio, Toronto