Toward a system that values filmmakers

As documentary filmmakers and producers we feel uncomfortable with the term “industry”. We never wanted to be part of an industry. For us, film is a means of expression although it often feels like climbing a mountain. 

Worldwide, documentaries are primarily made by passionate directors and producers, in small production companies. They take risks, sometimes even risking their lives to make an urgent story cinematographically tangible and to convey it to the public. When we think of these friends and colleagues, we fail to call their work “industry”. Filmmakers, wherever they live, are too vulnerable for that. At every stage of their work, documentary filmmakers depend on the goodwill of their contemporaries, on the faith and trust of those who support documentary filmmaking. We would be bold enough to say that most industry shareholders value a good return on their investments—more than they value the quality of documentary films. But aren’t the real shareholders the people who care—our audiences and the documentary community? The return they get is not in the form of money, but our best films. Films that are meaningful, that inspire, disturb us, and galvanize our sense of solidarity. 

We feel documentary belongs in the public domain. The independence of makers needed to produce true and daring films cannot be guaranteed without reliable support from governments, funds, and public broadcasters. “But hold on,” you might be thinking, “what about the streaming giants? They have deep pockets, anything is possible, the sky is the limit.” Indeed, streamers are indispensable for documentary. They give new impulses and help many people find work. But it remains a volatile world; a world in which the market rules and the money can just flow in a different direction. We cannot leave documentaries to the whims of the free market; they are far too precious and important. Which streamer, for example, would have wanted to finance our documentary about women with breast cancer that does not show the heroic struggle of the patients, but instead focuses on the vulnerability and fears of sick women? Films like this are important for a wide audience, because many women worldwide suffer from this disease. But they are certainly not a favourite with streamers. 

If we agree that the documentary belongs in the public domain, that makes it all the more poignant that despite the strong appreciation for arts and culture in Europe, the working conditions of documentary directors have deteriorated rather than improved. We live in the richest and safest part of the world and are well protected by democratic institutions, compared with many countries. Taking this into account, it might come as a surprise to hear filmmakers in Europe are massively underpaid and expected to accept this abnormal situation: “Why complain? You’re doing the most fantastic work in the world!” is often said by the ones in charge. But the economic need for leading German filmmakers was so great that a group of renowned directors (Andres Veiel, Irene Langeman, Marcus Vetter) took the stage at a festival in Stuttgart after being nominated and read a manifesto in which, among other things, the negative attitude of the public broadcasters was denounced. 

Documentary makers often struggle immensely to make their dream film, such as the German-Ukrainian director Natalija Yefimkina. Her film Garage People (IDFA 2020) was critically acclaimed and won many awards at festivals. She received some money from funds and a regional German broadcaster. In the end, she received a paltry fee of €25,000 for more than three years of work. It was her mother and friends who kept her going financially. Her story represents many makers who cannot make a living from the profession. 

David Bernet, co-chairman of the German interest group of documentary filmmakers, AG DOK, summed it up as aptly as bitterly: “This is how we deal with special talent in Germany. They learn from the start that they are not appreciated.” He notes that public broadcasters are investing increasingly less in documentary films and that budgets are structurally far too low. 

A very detailed report on the income position of documentary directors was also published in France, commissioned by the interest group Addoc. The picture sketched is recognizable for everyone in the sector: The fees are structurally too low. The gap between days worked and days paid is large. That is why France set up a system in which producers receive a bonus if they pay directors for the full production time of a film project, and not just the budgeted number of days. 

In the Netherlands too, the salaries of directors have not risen for 20 years and have even decreased. Documentary budgets—and not just fees—are suffering from inflation. Directors and producers are confronted with increasing bureaucratization and legalization too. This makes it almost impossible to respond quickly and adequately to events. Makers and producers are also spending increasing amounts of time and money on endless legal battles with (notably tax-funded) public organizations for decent contracts and remuneration. 

Young filmmakers everywhere are being taught how to appease decision makers. Think of the endless time and energy we waste while making our plan attractive for broadcasters and funders; people who frequently have no idea how documentaries are made. We feel it should be the other way around: let financiers learn what it takes to make a documentary.

In 2023, a renowned Dutch research agency calculated the exact income differences between documentary filmmakers in freelance capacity and those in permanent employment with public broadcasters. The results are clear: Independent directors must receive an average of 50% in fees to keep pace. Interest groups of both directors (DDG) and producers (NAPA) informed the broadcasters that there is no longer any excuse to not immediately make adjustments to ensure fair payment. With hard figures in hand, they made a fist—even though some policymakers considered it completely unnecessary. For example, a Dutch minister recommended that a young woman studying should marry a wealthy man in order to remedy her dire financial need. We think that financial resolve can be accomplished much more simply: by forcing governments, broadcasters, and funds to adequately pay hard-working directors. Not to mention, that would prevent quite a few divorces.

Dutch directors have taken a first step in the right direction with their action. Not only are fees going up, the budgets of documentaries are also rising. In the future, this will hopefully remedy a phenomenon that has become common: producers and directors compensate for the low budgets with their own resources (if they have such own resources, that is). It is therefore important that producers and directors jointly fight for better working conditions. Tight budgeting of documentaries was all too often a source of conflict and resentment between director and producer.

Everywhere we look we can see the same pattern. Directors are broke when they have finished their film, let alone that they have sufficient resources to stay on their feet in the period afterwards. Study after study shows that both producers and directors can build up little or no reserves to bridge the time to the next project. We (producers and directors) invest far too much energy in earning money instead of looking around, reading, taking dead ends, and lounge. We fail to invest in time when nothing is necessary, and everything is possible. Those rare moments are where the best ideas for films are born. But investing in that fruitful and creative time that you so desperately need as a documentary filmmaker is not an option for most of us. Wouldn't it be great if directors could receive a basic income, to work on new projects in peace? It is very important that much more money is invested in the development of projects; not only for the income position of documentary makers, but also for the quality of films. At the same time, makers should be given long-term and in-depth guidance (as is already happening in Denmark). This creates opportunities for unique films that escape the standard norms and formats.

For years, it seemed as if the power of public broadcasters was set in stone. Why do we continue to accept that broadcasters get the rights to our films indefinitely? After five or seven years, everyone has earned their money from a documentary. The producer has sold the film here and there. The broadcaster was able to repeat the film and earn something back through a pay site. After that, the maker, the creative owner of the work, should be able to regain full control over the film, to do with it what she or he wants.

Are there any encouraging developments in the documentary world? In France, yes, a bonus system has been set up that makes it worthwhile for producers to pay for a real number of working days for directors. In the Netherlands, a joint action by the documentary directors and producers has ensured that the fees and budgets are starting to increase. In Denmark, the Danish Film Institute provides guidance and ample budgets in the pre-development phase to makers to research and grow their plans. New ways of disseminating documentaries are also being developed, such as through impact campaigns.

Let’s leave our national bubbles and learn from one another. In the end, we can only keep up this work we love with a sense of community and solidarity—the same source for feeling filled with meaning and dignity.