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Crossing the border to find work--that thematic mainstay of Southern Californian political discourse--is not something Hollywood people like to talk about when they themselves are doing it.

Hollywood North: Running Away to Canada

By Katy McLaughlin

American immigration to Canada apparently didn't die out with the draft, according to Toronto-based lawyers whose offices are working overtime this year filing papers for producers, directors, and writers seeking homes across the border. With a reported 30% drop in U.S. based production in certain sectors fueling a hunt for new opportunities, and some L.A.-based agents encouraging clients to seek dual citizenship in order to qualify for jobs reserved for Canadians, Hollywood North represents a curious anomaly: a foreign country where U.S. citizens go to find work.

Blame Canada
In 1999, the year screen audiences were laughing hilariously to the strains of "Blame Canada" in the South Park movie, the Directors and Screen Actors Guilds of America published a study called The Monitor Report which may have caused many in Hollywood to miss the joke. The study determined that of productions that leave the U.S. for economic rather than creative reasons, fully 81% of them go to Canada. English-speaking and increasingly experienced crews, growing pre- and post-production infrastructure, a lucrative exchange rate, and tax subsidy programs put in place by a government devoted to developing the Canadian film industry are lures so attractive to American producers that the Monitor Report attributed total economic losses of $8.34 billion dollars to northbound runaways in 1998 alone. The Screen Actors Guild (SAG) and the Directors Guild of America (DGA) ran a full-page ad in Variety on March 30, 1999, exclaiming, "Canada is killing the Television and Film Business in the United States."

Allan King, President of the Director Guild of Canada, responded with arguments that included a dismissal of the Monitor Report's claims as "far fetched," noting, with a weary sophistication surprising to Hollywood types who look upon their northern neighbors as naive yokels, that people in the film industry tend to "exaggerate." His three-page retort sustained a tone of incredulity at the outrage of Americans, whose entertainment product has usurped small and large screens the world over. They may have equally talented camera crews, but Canada's attachment to the standards of fair play may be at odds with Hollywood's apparent sense of entitlement to not only play, but to referee, own the team, and sell the broadcast license of the game it believes it invented.

Mr. King struck a poignant note for Canada's abiding national self-esteem efforts when he claimed, "An increasing proportion of Canadian production...counts as "Canadian content" and is not "runaway" production at all."

CanCon: What's It All Aboot?
What this discussion did not illuminate three years ago was the machinations of "Canadian content,"or "CanCon" as it is known by Canadian--and a growing number of American--producers. CanCon is a strictly regulated and highly rewarding government program that financially incentivizes productions to put the Canadian entertainment industry to work. Producers are given a certain number of points for using a Canadian producer, director, lead and second lead actors, writer, cinematographer, editor, and production designer. Depending on the number of points, a percentage of salaries paid out are returned to the producer by the government, via the CRTC, the Canadian FCC. If a production is staffed with all Canadian talent in the top job categories, for example, achieving the 10 point maximum, the producer can essentially receive 20% of their labor expenses back.

David Devine, a Canadian producer who specializes in family-oriented films, notes that CanCon is an issue only for a small percentage of American productions. "Outside of certain specific genres, they [U.S. producers] don't care at all about these points. But they still get 10% back from our government for shooting here, because they hire our crews. And then our dollar is so low that there's another huge savings." This may explain why "You cannot drive anywhere in the downtown area without seeing red pylons for a movie," Toronto attorney Mendel Green observes about the city where he has practiced law for 41 years. "There were 42 films shooting in Toronto this March. It's a traffic disaster area."

Within the genres for which rebate dollars do matter, including children;s television, made-for-TV movies, low budget projects, and animation, CanCon is reputed to inspire some finagling by producers who want the dollars Canada has to offer but not necessarily the Canadian talent the regulations require them to use.

According to Mr. Devine, "What a lot of Americans do is use Canadian companies as kinds of fronts. They hire some Canadians and take advantage of the rebate."

Many less crafty American producers have simply gotten out of the business of creating content that Canadians are better situated to produce. Jason Dravis, an agent at the L.A.-based Monteiro Rose Talent Agency which represents animation writers, notes a "25-30% drop off in production here over the past three years." Those who remain in the business find the competition fairly bludgeoning. Ken Olshansky, Senior Vice President of Creative Affairs at Sunbow Entertainment, a New York-based animation production company, decries PBS's "The Bookworm," a 3-hour weekend programming block created entirely by Canadian animation giant Nelvana, as the latest specter of Canadian domination.

"It is inappropriate and wrong for our public television to make a financially motivated deal with a Canadian company to pump out mediocre programming," says Mr. Olshanky.

Nelvana's Vice President of Marketing, Jill Newhouse Calcaterra, repudiates the term "mediocre," responding, "We got that deal because we provide superior content; it's not about our nationality." To protests of unfair advantage, she says, "if people are concerned about the subsidies we get, Americans should talk to their legislatures." Ms. Calcaterra is not the first to suggest political activism: Al Gore made Hollywood headlines during his presidential campaign by requesting a Commerce Department investigation into runaway production. However, expectations are generally low that President Bush's administration will advocate any protectionist measures and as Greg Krizman, Communications Director for the Screen Actors Guild explains, the issue is currently on the back burner because the guilds "have been thrown off the scent by a potential work stoppage."

If You Can't Beat 'Em...
The Monteiro Rose Agency has lit upon an intriguing antidote for the ill effects of runaway production by encouraging clients to seek landed immigrant status in Canada. Some writers have followed this advice and others are in the process, which can take as few as six months and cost as little as $5,000 USD in legal, court and Canadian government fees, though, as some seekers are learning, it can easily take much longer and cost far more. Approved applicants retain citizenship in their nation of origin but must live in Canada for six months and a day out of each year. In addition to becoming qualified to participate in CanCon projects, landed immigrants are covered by Canada's national healthcare system.

Toronto-based immigration attorney David Garson estimates he's had a 50 to 75% increase in calls from American creatives over the past three years investigating the possibility of achieving, as it is known in the industry, "Canadian status." Many of these callers are merely exploring their options, and numbers of actual emigres are low enough that neither the Screen Actors Guild nor the Writers Guild report any great concern (the Directors Guild declined to comment). However, since 1990, there has been a four-and-a-half-fold increase in American writers, producers, directors of photography, directors and actors admitted to Canada as landed immigrants. In 2000, fifty-eight professionals from these groups achieved Canadian status. Mr. Green, an immigration attorney who is also the founder of the Canadian Bar Association Immigration Section, says that of late, he is retained three to five times a week by American producers, directors and writers who want to start the immigration process rolling. Given this activity in Toronto's immigration attorneys' offices, emigration statistics appear likely to increase over the coming years. "There's just more film and television work here than there are people to do it," Mr. Green explains. Canadian television writer Barry Julien offers a testimonial of his own: "I've never been out of work since I first started writing six years ago."

Crossing the border to find work--that thematic mainstay of Southern Californian political discourse--is not something Hollywood people like to talk about when they themselves are doing it. The creatives I contacted who have moved to Canada and those in the process refused to go on the record for this article.

Perhaps they are loathe to give the impression that they're washed up, Canada connoting to film and TV personnel what Japan does to neon-haired MTV stars of yore. A Los Angeles-based writer begged that his name not be mentioned, sighing, "I've taken too much grief from other writers about my having Canadian status." A New York-based children's television writer who has no intention of moving anywhere also requested anonymity, though not, she insisted, because she feared displeasing her employers, many of whom are Canadian producers with occasional dispensation to use a select number of American writers.

"I just really don't know enough about how the Canada deal works," she admitted. "But I do know this: it's a sad thing if you have to move to another country just to work in your own business."

Katy McLaughlin is a former programmer at HBO and currently a television writer and producer.