In early May 2024, President Donald Trump stirred the waters of the entertainment industry with a bold proclamation: a 100 percent tariff on all foreign-made films entering the United States. As the initial shockwaves rippled across Hollywood, labor unions and industry leaders began to respond, cautiously optimistic that this move might signal a recognition of the dire circumstances facing rank-and-file workers.
The International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees (IATSE), one of the largest entertainment unions, expressed a sense of validation in Trump’s assertion that international competition poses a significant threat to the American film and television industry. “Foreign governments have successfully lured film and television productions away from the United States with aggressive tax incentives and subsidies,” the union stated. This sentiment echoed the frustrations of many in Hollywood, as years of streaming wars, the pandemic, and a series of mergers and layoffs had decimated job opportunities, leaving a once-thriving industry in tatters.
Runaway productions—those intended for U.S. release but filmed abroad—have become a growing concern, particularly as studios chase lower production costs. In a recent survey by ProdPro, industry analysts revealed that major studio executives overwhelmingly favored locations outside the U.S. for upcoming projects, with Toronto, the U.K., and Australia topping the list. This trend reflects a broader reality: the shift of production away from traditional U.S. hubs like California and Georgia, driven by the allure of tax breaks and favorable regulations abroad.
Trump’s proposed tariffs, while seemingly a protective measure for American workers, raise complex questions regarding their implementation. Unlike traditional trade goods, films are often the product of intricate international collaborations, making it challenging to define what constitutes an “American-made” film. As Stephen Follows, a UK-based entertainment industry analyst points out, there is no universal framework for determining a film’s national identity. This ambiguity complicates the president’s tariff plan, which, if enacted, could inadvertently harm U.S. studios that rely on global partnerships and co-productions.
Union leaders have voiced their concerns about the potential ramifications of a blanket tariff policy. David Graves, an executive board member with IATSE Local 728, warned that without a nuanced understanding of the industry’s complexities, such measures could exacerbate existing issues rather than resolve them. “If this tariff policy is just a headline reaction to productions leaving the U.S., it’s not a solution; it’s sabotage,” he asserted. For the skilled trades that built Hollywood, the stakes are high, as many workers have already faced job losses with little support in transitioning to new opportunities.
Notably, Oscar-winning actor Jon Voight took to social media to advocate for a more comprehensive approach. He presented a proposal to Trump that included tax provisions aimed at incentivizing domestic production, emphasizing the urgent need for a plan to address the industry’s struggles. Voight’s draft included a requirement that 75 percent of production and post-production occur in the U.S. to qualify for federal incentives, a move that could potentially reshape the landscape of American filmmaking.
Meanwhile, California Governor Gavin Newsom quickly responded to Trump’s announcement by suggesting a collaborative federal tax incentive of $7.5 billion to revitalize the state’s film industry, highlighting the need for a united front to address the challenges posed by runaway productions. Yet, even with such proposals on the table, the question remains: does the U.S. have the infrastructure to absorb the influx of production jobs that could return if tariffs are implemented?
The reality is that while the U.S. maintains a robust trade surplus in film and television—exporting over $15 billion more than it imports in this sector—many industry insiders caution against underestimating the adaptability of foreign competitors. Countries like Canada and the U.K. have established agencies dedicated to attracting film production, creating streamlined incentives that the U.S. lacks. As Graves noted, “These nations are not just capable of retaliatory tariffs; they are capable of deploying better tax incentives.”
As this dialogue unfolds, the potential repercussions of Trump’s tariff proposal extend beyond the immediate concerns of American jobs. Politicians and union leaders in the U.K. and Canada have expressed alarm, emphasizing the interconnectedness of the film industry across borders. Ted Hsu, a Canadian MP, warned that such tariffs could jeopardize local economies and arts scenes, while Philippa Childs, head of Bectu—a union representing 40,000 workers in the U.K.—stressed the necessity of protecting their film sector during this uncertain time.
In conclusion, while the conversation around tariffs on foreign films may resonate with the frustrations of Hollywood’s workforce, it is imperative to approach the issue with a comprehensive understanding of both domestic and international landscapes. The future of American filmmaking hinges not only on policy decisions but on a collaborative effort to foster an environment where skilled trades can thrive alongside emerging technologies and global partnerships. As the industry grapples with its identity in an increasingly globalized market, solutions must be as multifaceted as the challenges it faces.
