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O Canada, Where is thy Sting? |
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By Vin Fraioli |
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I feel the familiar, subtle shuddering of ship’s engines muscling into reverse and run outside to the promenade deck to sightsee.
On the deck, people are in various postures of awe and curiosity, taking pictures, or reflecting, and there she is, much smaller than I expected, nesting high on the bank ashore, dressed in blue and white.
But the ship has planned a soundtrack for our sightseeing pleasure. Out from the gaping loudspeakers anchored above comes a howl crackling through the air, numbing and killing what tranquility there is, and the sonic chaos takes form of a voice singing, of all things, Schubert’s “Ave Maria.”
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Oh God! I think. The deadline for this month’s article! I’d better get back to the room.
I get on the phone. The subject: Can Rhode Island compete with Canada as a haven for film and moviemakers?
First, I call my friend, Lee Faulkner. Before leaving for vacation, I had called him to meet him for lunch in Montreal where he has a film production company. Lee has been in the film business for years first as a stunt man, then as actor and now producer. When I met him some five years ago, he had come to Rhode Island to produce a film that never got produced but after setbacks and resistance from the film community, State and City cogs, he flew north, to Canada, to an environment that he feels is more “film friendly.” Tax incentives, governmental support and of course, the currency exchange, being the central reasons.
“You get more for your money in Canada,” he says. Lee, who has a home in Rhode Island, goes on. “Rhode Island has to learn to offer better incentives for its investors. “Look at Hawaii, for instance, where there is a one hundred percent tax break for its investors. Besides, one has to deal with the Boston Union.”
“Besides, Canada is set up for film production. For instance, how many camera crews do you have in Rhode Island, or sets? It has taken years for Canada to develop sets where they can build a reproduction of Hollywood Boulevard, for instance. And where do these camera people learn the craft, how to grip, for instance, or proper lighting, except by working day after day in an apprentice situation. You can’t do that in a place which has one or two films every two years...”
“Look,” he says, “I am not being negative. I’m just stating the reality of the situation. Independent filmmakers can come here for the incentives to investors and support grants, while the big companies who do not have to look for investors get the benefit of currency and a working environment, which is already developed and set up. What is the biggest cost to make a film?
The people factor. That’s where the money is...I know that my friend, Steve Feinberg is trying his best...”
Thanks, Lee, I say. See you in a couple of days...
Now, I dial up Steve Feinberg, a mutual friend and the current director of the Rhode Island Film and Television Office (see last month’s IMAGINE article).
I tell him what Lee has said. “Not so!” he says. “ First, our union is affiliated with the New York union, and what Lee is saying might have applied years ago, but things are changing fast here. I don’t have to tell you again how supportive people are here. If you really want to know how the situation for filmmakers is in Rhode Island, call Henry Bronchtein. He just finished filming the pilot for a new series, “The Brotherhood” and that was shot in Rhode Island. Now, here’s the executive co producer of the “Sopranos” who just won an Emmy AND he just told me that they’re probably going to be under budget. Ask him!”
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Gimme his number, quick, Steve. I’m going out of range.”
Outside, the soprano continues her ship to shore bombardment. The steel hull mercifully muffles the volume and I think, sounds like Elizabeth Schwarzkopf. Once again, the cruise director booms, “For those of you on the port side, the Captain will turn the ship around so that you may enjoy this special sight.
I dial Mr. Bronchtein’s number. I know I’ll get the straight scoop from him, an outsider and a veteran. Besides, he has that air of someone who doesn’t mince words. Both times I have met him at social gatherings, he was observing the room as if immersed in an unpleasant fluid while looking through glass...
“Yes, I’ll be happy to tell you,” he says in a friendly voice belying my impression.
“The State of Rhode Island bent over backwards for us,” he says. “They’re couldn’t have been a more helpful and open environment. The State helped us out with location fees. For instance, we shot in the State House for nothing. They even closed down a portion of I-95 so we could shoot a scene. Of course, there were the usual little problems, but I had a good experience with the teamsters. They were skilled union people. And I found the film community there to be quite capable.”
“Rhode Island was a better place to have this experience,” he says. “Of course, Canada is a more provincial government, more aggressive with its incentives and it is difficult to compete with them. Clearly, budget is the whole goal. But, as Steve tells me, your government is studying the Louisiana and New York State legislations, which are extremely favorable to the film community in order to learn from it.”
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And what about Rhode Island? I ask.
“Rhode Island? I love it. I’m from Brooklyn, and walking around Providence reminds me a lot of home. You have the arts there, and theatre. And I love Newport...”
Will you come back and film the entire series here? I ask.
“Yes, but that depends how the project is received...”
Henry, Henry, I’m losing your signal, I say. Thank you for your time.
My cell phone laughs at me throbbing “Call Lost.”
I run back on deck. I’m the only one there. The trees and the water are as they were.
We don’t need your stinkin’ soundtrack, it seems to say, and I answer, this is music, this silence, is enough, as the ship shudders again, disturbing the water into a hissing wake below.
I’m on my way to Montreal.
I want to see what all of this brouhaha is all about.
