For a niche broadcaster, Accessible Media Inc. (AMI) boasts a remarkably broad audience.

That’s because AMI’s mission is to entertain, inform and empower Canadians with disabilities—and with nearly 30 per cent of Canadians age 15 or older currently experiencing a disability, AMI’s target audience includes approximately 8 million people across every demographic, from all over the country.

“We’re one channel, so we have to be everything to everybody,” acknowledges Cara Nye, AMI’s director of content development and production.

AMI has come a long way since it was established in 1989 as the National Broadcast Reading Service, which operated a radio reading service before it launched The Accessible Channel in 2009. The Accessible Channel, a must-carry specialty channel that included closed captions and described video for all of its programs, evolved into AMI-tv; AMI-télé, its French-language counterpart, was launched in 2014. A fully accessible free streaming service, AMI+, was added in 2023.

“We’re really looking at anything that anybody wants to consume,” says Nye.

And how does AMI know what viewers want to consume? A research panel of more than 3500 participants, all members of the disability community, is one major way. Every year, the panel participates in a program monitor, reviewing synopses of series to help the broadcaster gauge what types of shows its audience is interested in. AMI also does “deep dives” on its on-air series, in which it asks the panel “questions about characters, about plot lines, where they’d like to see the series go. Is it resonating with them? What do they want to see more of? Less of?” explains Nye.

No doubt, AMI is finely attuned to its audience—and hungry for fresh content. That makes the broadcaster particularly open to partnering with producers, disabled or not, to create the kinds of series its viewers want to watch.

When choosing who to work with, AMI has one overarching requirement. AMI’s producer partners must be prepared to centre the disability community through storytelling, hiring practices, and the production process itself.

“If you’re pitching us a show, the most important thing is that it’s guided by the disability community,” says Nye. “It doesn’t mean that you, as a producer, have to have a disability yourself. But you really should be engaging with the community in roles that control that narrative: writers, producers, directors, editors.”

René Brar is head of development at BC’s Big Time Decent Productions, whose first scripted series recently got the green light from AMI. Adapting is a coming-of-age half-hour dramedy about a girl with cerebral palsy, determined to lose her virginity before winding up in a wheelchair. Brar affirms the importance of having “the right folks tell the story”—in this case, creator Rachael Ransom, whose real-life experience with cerebral palsy guides the script. Having a disabled individual helm the show does much more than check a box; it ensures that the show is “authentic, stronger, more genuine,” says Nye.

“We loved that the script for Adapting connected to universal themes: of acceptance, of family, of friendship, of getting laid in high school,” says Brar. “But Rachael was able to do it by telling a very, very specific story that I don’t have access to.”

This universal-in-the-specific quality applies equally well to Big Time Decent’s unscripted series Underdog Inc., which AMI has renewed for a second season. Underdog Inc. is the company’s latest entry in the ever-popular trucker docuseries category. The show follows Dale Kristensen, a daring “hotshot trucker” who first appeared on Global in Backroad Truckers (also produced by Big Time Decent)—and who happens to be a little person.

Both shows steer clear of what Brar calls “inspiration porn,” shows in which “you just root for the little guy and all the disabled characters are saintly. Avoiding that is really important for us, and I believe for AMI as well.”

Apart from inclusive storytelling, AMI also stresses the importance of including—and accommodating—disabled individuals on set, whether they’re members of the cast or crew. “To work with us, it’s essential to have a really robust DEI plan. How are you going to engage employees from the disability community?” says Nye.

According to her, 55 per cent of the cast and crew of the buddy docuseries Crip Trip (Catapult Pictures) identify as having a disability. For the news parody series The Squeaky Wheel: Canada (Hitsby Entertainment), 100 per cent of the creative team are disabled. “Those are very high bars,” says Nye, but it’s not just about stats: “The producers that we like to work with are the ones who are willing to understand what it takes to work with people with disabilities, engaging them and asking the questions early on.”

For Black Rhino Creative, the prodco behind AMI’s multisensory travel series Postcards From…, that means strict eight-hour days during production. It means ensuring that series host Christa Couture, who is an amputee, feels comfortable on screen and has her needs met on set (“Like you would with any talent, but we’re just dialled in that much more,” says director/producer Ryan Mah).

It also means training directors and producers in the use of integrated described video (IDV), a method of producing content for visually impaired audiences. In contrast to described video—which tacks on an audio track to relate what’s happening on screen—IDV bakes accessibility into the production, with the show’s host or a cast member describing what’s happening on screen.

Nye explains it this way: “With described video, a third voice comes in to say, for example, ‘Cara puts on her reading glasses.’ With IDV, I might say, ‘Oh, I can’t read a thing without these.’” Mah describes the method as “producing every episode like it’s going to be on the radio.”

AMI pioneered IDV, and it’s just one more way the broadcaster prioritizes its audience. “Described video is great, but it can be quite annoying to people who don’t require it,” says Nye. “We’ve actually heard from people that they’ll watch the same show in different rooms because their spouse or child doesn’t want to hear that description. Not a very inclusive experience.” IDV, on the other hand, is seamless, and makes content accessible to everybody.

“The feedback has been phenomenal,” says Nye. “We’ve been impressed with how our producer partners have stepped up to incorporate IDV into their productions. Black Rhino, for example, can just do it with their eyes closed.”

“We’re even hearing of producers who are starting to do that in their other productions, too,” Nye adds. “Because why not?”

For his part, Brar of Big Time Decent calls AMI “a dream” to work with: “They’re willing to find strong partners and trust their judgment.” Mah of Black Rhino concurs: “They’re amazing. They’re very passionate about making sure the content is accessible for everyone.”

AMI’s focus on accessibility is simply a focus on audience, and it’s an audience no other broadcaster can claim to cater to in the same way. Nye is grateful for the partners who help deliver the content that audience craves.

Says Nye: “The fact that we have such great production partners, who are willing to work with young creators and bring their stories to the screen—that is what success looks like to me.”

✅ disability / disabled ✅ person with a disability / disabled person	❌ differently abled (unless preferred) ❌ handicap / handicapped ❌ special needs (unless preferred)
✅ has a disability ✅ is disabled	❌ afflicted by ❌ suffers from ❌ victim of
✅ person who is able to	❌ high functioning
✅ person who is unable to	❌ low functioning
✅ neurodivergent* ✅ person with Autism / Autistic person* ✅ person with a cognitive disability / cognitively disabled person* ✅ person with an intellectual disability / intellectually disabled person* ✅ person with a learning disability / learning disabled person* *These types of disabilities are not all the same but are often grouped together.	❌ mentally challenged ❌ mentally handicapped ❌ mentally retarded ❌ slow ❌ special-ed
✅ able-bodied (if not physically disabled) ✅ does not have a disability ✅ neurotypical (if not neurodivergent) ✅ nondisabled	❌normal ❌ regular
✅ person who uses a wheelchair ✅ wheelchair use	❌ wheelchair-bound ❌ confined to a wheelchair
✅ little person ✅ person of short stature ✅ person with dwarfism / dwarf	❌ midget
✅ person with a mental health disability ✅ person with mental illness / mentally ill person ✅ person with a psychiatric disability / psychiatrically ✅ disabled person	❌ crazy ❌ disturbed ❌ insane ❌ lunatic ❌ mad ❌ psychotic
✅ person with a physical disability / physically disabled person	❌ cripple ❌ invalid
✅ accessible parking / restroom	❌ disabled restroom ❌ handicapped parking

In January 2025, we were heartbroken to lose Tracey Friesen, an industry luminary, sustainability advocate and beloved friend. The managing president of the CMPA’s BC branch since 2020, Tracey embodied commitment to social and environmental justice. She also embodied optimism. Her belief in the power of connection—and her extraordinary gift for collaboration—directly and indirectly set in motion countless initiatives for good within Canada’s screen industry.

We recently gathered some of her industry co-collaborators, colleagues and admirers (with Tracey, none of these categories were mutually exclusive) to reflect on how Tracey’s friendship, guidance and shining example continue to propel their own work forward.

How did each of you meet Tracey?

Liz Shorten: I met Tracey probably 25 years ago, when I was at BC Film and she was working for Rainmaker, which was a post-production facility at the time. I remember meeting her at an industry meeting, and just going, “Who is this woman? She’s amazing.” At her request, I later became the first board chair of her charity, Story Money Impact (see page 50). I couldn’t say no to Tracey.

Elisa Suppa: I met Tracey just a few years back, when Telefilm really started to engage on the priority of sustainability, through [former CMPA and Canada Media Fund executive and current Bell Fund executive director] Marcia Douglas. Very soon after meeting—on Tracey’s impetus—we started finding ways to work together. And she really was quite a dynamic force who incited action in a very constructive way.

Anne-Valérie Tremblay: I met Tracey at the beginning of 2024, because I’m also in charge of sustainability initiatives at the AQPM. Tracey reached out to me so I could share what we were doing here in Quebec. But instantly there was a connection. She’s so nice and so open, and she wanted to see if we could work together to amplify our efforts. Immediately, she felt to me like a people person who knew how to make things happen. She was so good at unifying people.

Lisa Clarkson: I met Tracey, I believe, at Prime Time [CMPA’s yearly media conference] in 2022. It was Liz who said to me, “You need to meet Tracey Friesen.” And we immediately connected. We sat at one of those round tables in the hall and compared notes. And we agreed that the CMPA would partner with the CBC around a green storytelling work- shop-type thing. That was in February. We launched the workshops in April. They happened in June. I’d say the truest aspect of Tracey was that she was exceptional at action through connection.

“Right from the minute that we connected, all we talked about was what was possible. Not what made it impossible, but what was possible. Not ‘No, this can’t be done,’ but ‘Here’s how it can be done.’”

Marsha Newbery: I think I must have met Tracey in the early 2000s, when I was starting out as a baby producer and she was at the NFB. I had a couple of small projects with the NFB, and then it was just one of those things: you’re in the community, you see each other all the time. But I really got to know her when I worked at the CMPA and she came on. I worked very closely with her for two or three years at the CMPA. We continued working together, specifically on sustainability, when I took on a sustainability job at Thunderbird and then launched Producing for the Planet.

Liz, you were Tracey’s supervisor at the CMPA. How did she shape sustainability initiatives there?

Liz Shorten: Tracey was the perfect person for this file, because of her passion and her experience. As folks have already said, Tracey was a connector. She also was somebody who believed in action, and she did that through collaboration. And amazing things happened over the course of a couple of years because she just took charge.

A number of years ago, the CMPA board of directors decided to create a sustainability and climate action committee. This was big. It signalled that the board was going to make sustainability a priority. And it became Tracey’s thing. Each CMPA committee has a staff lead, and Tracey was that staff lead. And the work of the committee, the budget, everything—it was her creation. And the committee has supported all of the CMPA’s work to date on the climate file.

The rest of you, how did Tracey inspire the sustainability work you did within your respective organizations?

Lisa Clarkson: I will tell you: I’m old. And I have never encountered such a challenging initiative as sustainability in our industry. There is such a wide variety of attitudes and approaches, and sometimes resistance. It’s actually very, very, very hard to get things done.

How did Tracey inspire me? Right from the minute that we connected all we talked about was what was possible. Not what made it impossible, but what was possible. All of her work—green storytelling, innovative work on environmental sustainability, costing—all was done with a possibilist perspective. Not “No, this can’t be done,” but “Here’s how it can be done.”

In this work, there are so many people who are so ready to say no. But so many projects—whether or not she was involved in them directly—she just made me think that they were possible. And I’m sure that was part of the reason I thought that I could pull off Canadian Broadcasters for Sustainability [a coalition of broadcasters committed to sustainable change] and start Green Frame [a coalition of Crown corporations, federally funded organizations and CRTC-mandated funds committed to increasing sustainability in the industry]. She gave me the confidence to say, “Well, maybe collaboration will work.”

Marsha Newbery: When I was at the CMPA, we were just coming out of COVID, we were having heat domes and wildfire season in Vancouver, and I said to her, “I really want to get more into sustainability.” And she supported me taking some training, and she championed me to get into sustainability even more. I don’t think I would even be on this path without her support. That was a good boss moment.

And she was also the first person I called when I was thinking about setting up Producing for the Planet [a non-profit that formalizes independent Canadian producers’ commitments to climate action]. I asked her, “What do you think of this crazy idea?” And I’m not going to lie, she asked some very challenging questions. But it was all to make sure there was a real chance of success. I knew she would tell me it was crazy, and then we would work it out, and she would have my back. That was my experience of her.

Anne-Valérie Tremblay: I remember, after one of the conversations that we had, I realized that Tracey was not only in charge of sustainability, like I was: in her case, her whole person was about sustainability. And I thought, “Well, Anne-Valérie, now you have to step up, because Tracey is not only in charge of sustainability, she’s living it.” She inspired me to embrace the values, because she embodied them.

Elisa Suppa: One small example of Tracey’s influence: when Telefilm launched our sustainability budget template, as soon as Tracey got wind of it, she said, “How can we get it into the hands of our producers?” So she quickly organized and recorded these training sessions. She always wanted to get the information out to help other storytellers.

And what I saw in our meetings was that she raised the comfort level, even when there wasn’t comfort to begin with. When she first started the “sirens meetings,” as we eventually called them, I thought, “What’s this going to be?” And then you realize that she was really creating—I think we all felt it—just a very safe space to say what we thought.

Can you share more about “the sirens”—the informal sustainability working group that Tracey created? What was her intention with that group?

Lisa Clarkson: It was all her. Initially, I was honestly skeptical about it. I thought, “Who needs another meeting? No, thanks.” But I did it because it was Tracey, and she saw the possibility, so I wanted to see the possibility, too. She wanted to gather people that she believed to be influencers in the sustainability space, so that we could hack through some of those really difficult sustainability challenges and problem solve.

And I have to say it was massively effective to share unvarnished thoughts and get unvarnished feedback. There are so few places in our industry to do that.

Elisa Suppa: At first when she called the group the sirens, I think we all laughed, because of the mythological connotations. But once I understood the vision she had, it made sense. It became clear that she was putting together a sort of tiny think tank—what she called “watchers for the future.” Where do we need to go? How can we bring others along?

Anne-Valérie Tremblay: Yes, and “sirens” also has this double connotation, both of mythology and of sounding an alarm. And every time I would tell my colleagues, “I have a meeting with the sirens,” they would start laughing. But it was such a good meeting!

What do you feel Tracey has left you with as you continue the fight? What of her legacy would you want others to carry with them?

Elisa Suppa: It’s hard to think of just one thing to say. If producers or storytellers can do even one thing, any step, however small, is important. And eventually the tide will change. She made it clear that nothing was too small or too big.

Marsha Newbery: Working in sustainability can be very hard. And, near the end of our time together, Tracey expressed some of that hardness that she was feeling. And the last conversation I had with her, where she knew it was probably the last time we were going to be talking, she just said, “It doesn’t matter how hard it is. You have to keep fighting. Just never give up. Never give up. Never give up.”

And that is the piece of Tracey I carry with me every day.

“Enhancing the well-being of Canadian and Indigenous children with new and relevant stories that help them navigate the world we live in today far exceeds the “burden” of investment in new children’s content. It is an investment in our kids and their future.“

Agnes Augustin, CEO of the Shaw Rocket Fund

The Canadian and Indigenous children’s production industry is in crisis. While our sector has seen ebbs and flows over the years, nothing compares to what the global kids’ media industry is experiencing today. In a world where cost cutting has become the norm due to post-pandemic recovery and inflation, government organizations and legacy companies are evacuating the kids space to improve bottom lines.
It’s apparent in many headlines: “Nelvana development team axed,” “HBO Max, Netflix scrap kids shows,” “UK government shutters Young Audiences Content Fund,” “Disney has a kid crisis.”

The rationale: kids’ shows are costly, return on investment is limited, and kids are online anyway.

Since the heydays of the ’90s, when Nelvana and Cinar ruled the kids’ space, we have seen a steady decline in the production of Canadian and Indigenous children’s content, as a series of regulatory decisions inadvertently reduced commissioning, funding and overall support of new and relevant Canadian and Indigenous programs for kids of this generation. How did this happen?

Regulatory support is directed to programming that is deemed to be of public interest, and that would not exist without support because of “market failure.” In 1999, the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC) determined that kids in Canada had access to Canadian and foreign programming on a regular basis, and therefore deemed that children’s programming was no longer considered a priority. As a result, the regulator removed CanCon time credits for children’s content during “primetime for children” (daytime), thus eliminating the incentive for broadcasters to air kids’ programs.

The negative impact of these decisions slowly chipped away at the Canadian children’s programming sector for years. Then, another detrimental regulatory shift occurred in 2015, when the CRTC removed genre protection, eliminating the requirement for Canadian kids’ broadcasters to air Canadian children’s programming. Ironically, one could argue the kids’ production industry was a victim of its own success.

Interestingly, many Canadian dramas have seen global success—Heartland, Murdoch Mysteries, and the Golden Globe- and Emmy-winning Schitt’s Creek—and yet Canadian drama is still considered a “market failure” and receives the lion’s share of the funding in our country. The kids’ sector, on the other hand, has seen government funding continue to shrink.

In response to reduced funding, Canadian producers of children’s content grew to rely on international partners, particularly the US and Europe, to complete their financing. While this worked for a while, the drastic contraction in the US kids’ market has shattered the Canadian and Indigenous children’s production sector, and considering that 48 percent of all kids’ channels in Europe are US-owned, the effect on our industry is, and will continue to be, massive.

Failing our kids

It begs the question: why does the international market determine if we can continue to produce great Canadian shows for Canadian and Indigenous kids? Shouldn’t we, as a country, ensure that our children have access to new and relevant Canadian programs and media experiences on platforms of their choice? Kids deserve to see a Canadian and Indigenous point of view among the global content they have access to.

Canada’s private kids’ broadcasters, WildBrain and Corus, are experiencing significant financial challenges for many reasons, including the impact of last year’s WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. The CRTC recently granted Corus precedent-setting relief by reducing its PNI spend obligation from 8.5 per cent to 5 per cent (estimated at $31.8 million in 2023), shifting this spend to other content such as news and reality, and, depending on interpretation, with no further spend requirement on programs of national interest (PNI) for the remainder of its three-year licence term. The headline read: “Eased CanCon rules allow Corus to lean into unscripted reality, lifestyle fare.” No mention of kids.

The responsibility of creating new children’s programs has fallen on our public broadcasters, who do not have the means to make up for the lack of commissioning of children’s content from private broadcasters. And, frankly, they shouldn’t even if they could, as the difference in the private and public focus ensures a diversity of stories, voices and business.

Canadian and Indigenous children’s programming fosters positive values and relationships, builds diverse cultural awareness and pride, and sparks imagination and critical thinking through a mix of entertainment and education—all within a Canadian voice. Exposure to new content can lead children away from negative, sometimes toxic content that is widely available to them today, and can lead to healthier media consumption habits in youth and adulthood. Enhancing the well-being of Canadian and Indigenous children with new and relevant stories that help them navigate the world we live in today far exceeds the “burden” of investment in new children’s content. It is an investment in our kids and their future. And yet, legacy broadcasters, governments and regulators no longer seem to value the importance of children’s programming, and any sense of responsibility to Canadian and Indigenous kids seems to have been lost.

We know that kids discover lots of content online that they enjoy, including short-form and user-generated content, as well as legacy high-quality shows and repurposed content that were paid for by legacy broadcasters. But, if we don’t figure out how to finance and create new and relevant Canadian and Indigenous programs for kids at a high standard on these platforms, we will have failed them

If we don’t figure out how to finance and create new and relevant Canadian and Indigenous programs for kids at a high standard on these platforms, we will have failed them.

Time to Act

Canadian and Indigenous children and youth under 18 represent close to 20 per cent of Canada’s population. Generation Alpha, born from 2010 to 2024, will be the largest generation in the history of the world by 2025, estimated at 2 billion. The first in this generation were born the year the iPad was launched and Instagram was created, grew up with Siri and Alexa, and are experiencing rapid AI advancements with ChatGPT and other new platforms. We must find a way to offer Canadian and Indigenous kids and parents trusted content that reflects the way kids consume content both today into the future. This will require considerable private and public investment.

The Online Streaming Act (Bill C-11), which could see an estimated $200 million contribution toward Canadian-made audiovisual and audio programs, offered some hope. And yet, the CRTC’s recent related Broadcasting Regulatory decision failed again to prioritize Canadian and Indigenous children and will not benefit children’s content, as it did not direct or even incentivize any of the recipients to consider kids in their remit. The Rocket Fund, the only dedicated Certified Independent Production Fund (CIPF) for children’s and youth content, was not guaranteed an allocation of the regulated contributions along with the other legacy CIPFs.

The main issue is that children’s programming is defined as a genre of programming by our governments and regulators, and—inconceivably—not thought of as essential for our children. Regulatory and governmental decisions are made without consideration or safeguards that would ensure Canadian and Indigenous children have access to, and the right to, relevant Canadian-made stories.We must find our way back to prioritizing Canadian and Indigenous children, as a special audience group and not a genre, within the Canadian broadcasting and online streaming systems. We need to raise awareness of the importance of high-quality children’s programs for kids today, to ensure that meaningful, relevant content is created for our media-savvy children. But how can we do this when the kids’ industry is contracting at what feels like a record pace?

We, as a country, must acknowledge the crisis and urgently unlock the current funding we have, to allow producers of children’s content easier access while offering flexibility with the platform triggers. Having meaningful access to Canadian funding would also help kids’ producers secure international financing through co-productions to help fund their programs while we continue to work on solutions. We need a movement.

The children’s media industry is one of the most influential and powerful businesses in the world when it comes to kids. The fundamental value of Canadian and Indigenous programming for all children and youth in Canada must be underscored. Our programming reflects the diverse experiences of all children in our country—Black, racialized and Indigenous children, newcomers, children with disabilities. This is why, more than ever, stable funding is crucial to ensure the ongoing creation of quality and relevant Canadian and Indigenous programming for our children. We must act now.

The Indiescreen Awards, now in their 19th year, honour Canada’s most outstanding and most promising feature film producers. This year, the awards ceremony will be held at the Atlantic International Film Festival in Halifax—a first in Indiescreen Awards history. Check out this year’s list of remarkable nominees.

Established Producer Award

Nominees for the Established Producer Award are recognized for their collective body of work, as well as their contribution to the reputation of Canadian cinema on the world stage.

Company: Eagle Vision
Qualifying Film: Deaner ’89

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Partners Lisa Meeches, Kyle Irving, and Rebecca Gibson lead the award-winning production company Eagle Vision, which has produced more than 250 hours of content. Their latest film, Deaner ’89, opened in theatres in September 2024.

Kevin Tierney Emerging Producer Award

Nominees for the Kevin Tierney Emerging Producer Award are recognized for inspirational work, demonstrating promise of a bright career ahead as a Canadian independent feature film producer.

Annick Blanc, Maria Gracia Turgeon

Company: Midi La Nuit
Qualifying Film: Hunting Daze

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Annick Blanc and Maria Gracia Turgeon together lead their production company, Midi La Nuit. Their award-winning films have been shown in renowned international festivals. Their film, Hunting Daze, premiered at SXSW.

Enrique Miguel Baniqued, Karen Chapman

Company: Smallaxx Motion Pictures
Qualifying Film: Village Keeper

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Enrique Miguel Baniqued arrived in Toronto from the Philippines in 2019, and met Karen Chapman when he was a production assistant on Chapman’s award-winning film Quiet Minds Silent Streets. Their latest collaboration, Village Keeper, premiered at TIFF.

Kate Harrison Karman, president of Toronto-based Cream Productions, has plenty of experience with co-productions, including Stuff the British Stole, a Canada-Australia co-pro (which won Best History Documentary Program or Series at the Canadian Screen Awards); An Optimist’s Guide to the Planet, with the UK; and Wild Things with Dominic Monaghan, another Canada-UK co-pro. She is a firm believer in the model, which allows for fruitful collaboration in a challenging industry environment. “It can be a real strength for producers to support each other,” she says.

According to Harrison Karman, a co-production is a lot like a marriage: before you take the leap, you need to know what you’re getting into; then, you need to stay connected. She says that producers need to ask themselves four questions before they commit to a co-production—and stay true to the shared vision once they begin.

What to ask

Is a co-production right for your project? Ask yourself the following questions before you get started:

1. Why are we considering the co-production option?

Is it financing, talent, the subject matter? Any of these are legitimate reasons, but each affects the shape your co-production will take.

2. Who is our co-production partner (or partners)?

Have they successfully completed a co-production before? Do we have the same vision for the project? Pay attention to red flags before you get in too deep.

3. Does the creative make sense to co-produce?

If so, how will we split the responsibilities?

4. Are our financing partners (networks, distributors, etc.) comfortable with the co-production route?

This is critical. If they’re not on board, you have some convincing to do—or you need to look at alternative options.

How it works

No two co-productions are alike—but the successful ones have the following elements in common:

1. A singular creative vision (and an agreed-upon budget and schedule).

You and your partner(s) need to be on the same page and stay there, from day one until the project is done.

2. Full transparency across all facets of the production.

How else will you know if you’re on the same page? You should be honest and accountable about all aspects of the financing and creative, and expect the same from your partner(s). Plan on weekly or biweekly check-ins, and openly discuss any challenges you’re facing.

3. A clear and detailed breakdown of responsibilities.

If you’re a producer, you already know that this is the only way to avoid pitfalls down the road.

4. A balanced approval process for hiring key creatives, scripts, cuts, etc.

If you work this out beforehand, it will save you headaches—and potential conflict—later.

5. Teamwork.

There needs to be a sense of unity and shared purpose—both sides helping their staff develop into one team that’s making one show (or film).

6. Clear communication between producers and all networks.

This is absolutely crucial, and tied to all the other points. When you have open communication, everything else will fall into place.

HOW IT COMES TOGETHER

Harrison Karman is the first to admit that there’s no one way to structure a co-production, but offers the following example of how it can come together, based on previous experience:

• 12% Canadian licence fee
• 10% provincial tax credits
• 10% CMF (based on Canadian portion of the overall budget)
• 3% international distribution advance secured by Canadian production company
• 20% Country X grant money
• 15% Country X tax credits
• 15% Country X licence fee
• 10% equity investment from Country X–based broadcaster
• 5% international distribution advance secured by partner company

“You have to be on the same team; you have to be making the same show. It’s like any relationship: you need to know who’s responsible for what, because at the end of the day, if somebody goes sideways, you go sideways with them. On the flip side, success can be even sweeter when it’s shared.”

Kate Harrison Karman

Indigenous comedy is having a moment. That’s according to Kerry Swanson, CEO of the Indigenous Screen Office, who notes broadcasters’ heightened interest in the genre of late. “We’re seeing that across the board,” she says.

One of the biggest recent successes in the genre is Acting Good, an absurd-in-the-best-way sitcom that will soon air its third season. The first two seasons introduced us to Paul—a mama’s boy (played by series creator Paul Rabliauskas) who finds himself back on his northern Manitoba reserve after being chewed up and spit out by the big city of Winnipeg—and a delightful ensemble of kookier-than-thou characters.

Rabliauskas, a stand-up comedian, had been pitching variations of Acting Good for 10 years before it got picked up by Bell Media. It’s based on his own experiences and his own community: Poplar River First Nation in northern Manitoba, where he grew up, is a direct inspiration for Acting Good’s fictional fly-in community of Grouse Lake First Nation.

Since his show got the green light, Rabliauskas says it’s been both a “whirlwind” and “a dream come true.” He admits to early fears that nobody would watch it, “because it’s about my life and it’s Indigenous.” On the contrary: the show is now CTV Comedy Channel’s top-rated series.

“I think Canadians are really taking to our stories,” says Rabliauskas. But far from satisfied with the success of his show alone, he says, “I think we need five or six more [Indigenous] comedies on all the networks everywhere.”

He may soon get his wish. North of North (Red Marrow Media, Northwood Entertainment), about a young, single Inuk mother trying to make a new life for herself and her daughter in her tiny Arctic town, is scheduled to premiere on CBC and APTN, followed by Netflix, in 2025. BC-based Haisla hip-hop duo Snotty Nose Rez Kids will be releasing their own scripted comedy series in the coming year. And Don’t Even (Pier 21 Films, Frantic Films Manitoba, Sekowan Media), a coming-of-age series set in the late ’90s that follows two best friends in the summer after their last year of high school, will air on Crave and APTNt. (Think My So-Called Life, but make it funny, First Nations and “friggin’ Winnipeg.”)

“Our audiences have loved Acting Good,” says Justin Stockman, Bell Media’s VP of Content Development & Programming. “Content that reflects all Canadian experiences, across both comedy and drama, is a cornerstone of our English commissioning strategy.”

Stockman adds that he’s excited to see this momentum continue with Don’t Even.

Indigenous comedy is nothing new, and with fresh new content on the horizon, audiences in Canada will hopefully get to see more of it on major broadcasters and streaming services. But Acting Good producer Tina Keeper (who also plays Paul’s mother, Agnes) points out that her show is the first of its kind to be carried by a mainstream broadcaster.

“Bravo to Bell Media; I am so grateful to them for taking the step,” Keeper says. “But still, it’s kind of embarrassing to have gone this long without public broadcasters working with Indigenous creators.”

It’s also a shame that audiences have been deprived for this long. According to Swanson and the teams behind the new shows, there’s something about Indigenous comedy that just makes sense.

Says Swanson, “Humour and comedy are so foundational to Indigenous cultures and communities, and it’s really exciting that Canadians can now have the opportunity to be exposed to that.”

“We find humour in the darkest places,” says Rabliauskas. “Indigenous people have had so much tragedy and struggle in our lives that I think humour helped us get through all that stuff.”
Meg MacKay, a co-producer on Don’t Even, describes an upbringing where comedy was used to communicate, tackle difficult subjects and relate to one another. “You can always tell that someone in my family likes you if they tease you,” she says. “You know you’re welcomed in.”

Amber-Sekowan Daniels, creator of Don’t Even (and a co-creator on Acting Good) agrees: “Something we literally say all the time is, ‘Laughter is medicine.’ I know when people think about Indigenous cultures, there’s this idea of stoicism. And that definitely exists. But part of the teachings I grew up with were around humility, and humour is a part of that—we tease each other to keep each other humble.”
Like Rabliauskas, Daniels wanted to use her series to showcase where she grew up and spent her formative years—in her case, Winnipeg.

Daniels notes that she hadn’t seen a lot of urban coming-of-age films or series, let alone urban Indigenous ones. “Winnipeg is a very, very special place to grow up, and it has a huge Indigenous population. So that setting was really important for me,” she says.

Virtually all of these new series are rooted in real places and real experiences, making it easy for people from those places to relate. And make no mistake: these shows are made for Indigenous audiences first and foremost.

Says Swanson about some of the if-you-know-you-know humour on Acting Good: “That is authentic Indigenous storytelling, where those stories are being told by Indigenous people primarily to Indigenous audiences, and everyone is invited into the circle. But I love that we’re at a point where Indigenous storytellers don’t have to try to be anything other than who they are.”

But that doesn’t mean the jokes are lost on everybody else. After all, everyone is invited into the circle, as Swanson says. As we’ve seen so often with shows that have a tightly focused subject matter (and what looks like limited appeal), the universal can be found in the particular. Shows like Acting Good and Don’t Even won’t reach audiences and win hearts by pandering to non-Indigenous audiences or stripping out all the insider jokes—viewers want to see the real thing.

“Our TV show is about a remote fly-in community. Our creators have that background, and most of our cast members have that background, and it’s really informed our work. So we were surprised that we were so successful in the ratings,” says Acting Good’s Tina Keeper. “What I’ve concluded is that everything is universal. This is a wacky, kooky little show, but it’s focused on community—tiny family units that everybody knows. I think that is something that people relate to.”

Says Rabliauskas, “When I get recognized on the street, at this point it’s almost 50/50 in terms of Indigenous and non-Indigenous people who come up to me and say they love the show.”

According to Swanson, the success of shows like Acting Good—and hopefully of Don’t Even and all the other Indigenous comedies coming down the pike—hinges on narrative sovereignty. That is, First Nations, Inuit, and Métis creators telling their stories their way, whether through the lens of comedy or drama or documentary.

“Indigenous ownership and control over Indigenous storytelling has finally provided the avenue and the opportunity for Indigenous people to tell authentic stories, instead of trying to fit into some predetermined box that a broadcaster wants to fit them into,” says Swanson. “That’s the reason why we’re seeing such great stories. I can’t really make that point enough.”

“Just let us do it,” says Daniels. “I had a really special opportunity on Don’t Even, where I felt like everyone from the producers to the broadcasters really trusted me to tell this story. They trusted me and supported me to do it. So just let us lead our stories.”

With the ISO’s funds under administration recently increasing to $37 million a year, we can expect to see more gems like these, says Swanson.

“It’s really that freedom to be authentic, original, and unique in the storytelling that is going to generate these new kinds of stories that audiences are ready for and hungry for,” says Swanson—whether those stories come out of a bustling metropolis, a remote northern Manitoba reserve, or anywhere in between.

There’s a snowball effect at work, says MacKay of Don’t Even. “You finally see yourself on screen, and that inspires you to create your own work,” she says.

“We’re at the beginning of, hopefully, a continuing trend,” says Daniels. Audiences, get ready to laugh.

PREMIER DANIELLE SMITH

Alberta

Fun Fact

Upon completing her bachelor’s degree in English at the University of Calgary, Premier Smith moved to Vancouver with the intention of joining the film business. She appeared as an extra on a number of different shows.

What benefits have you seen from your government’s investment in Alberta’s film and TV industry, particularly in terms of job creation and the economy?

I had a very dear friend who was involved in the Alberta film industry years ago. The industry shifted to Vancouver, and so did he and most of his friends. I started looking at the reasons for that. Part of it was that Alberta just didn’t have a comparable tax credit to act as that additional leveller when it comes to creating a market where people want to invest.

I was pleased to see that my predecessor came through with a tax credit program that I believe did level the playing field. We had a few glitches that we had to iron out based on what we heard from the industry, but I think the measure of its success is that we have 182 productions that have qualified for that tax credit, representing over $1 billion worth of investment, all the way from the small independent to the very large productions, like HBO’s The Last of Us.

What makes Alberta such an attractive destination for film and television projects?

I think we have everything going for us: we have incredible landscapes, easy access to two international airports in Calgary and Edmonton, good roads that we’ve invested in, and really well-trained technical crews.

Apart from that, our main production tax credit, which is sort of a rebate on labour costs, keeps us competitive. We also have a number of additional grant programs we’ve provided under the Alberta Made Screen Industries Program: a production grant; a post-production, visual effects and digital animation grant; and a project and script development grant. We want to make sure we’re nurturing all parts of this industry.

Are there any recent projects filmed in your province that you are particularly excited about?

My homegrown favourite is the CBC hit series Heartland, which has been filming in the area that I live in for longer than I’ve lived there.

The Last of Us is a personal favourite. They have one scene where they blow up a portion of the legislature building. I think it was my office—I don’t know what I’m supposed to read into that!—but it’s always neat when you can recognize places where you spend a lot of time in a major feature. I have no doubt that we’ll see other productions, large and small. When you’re up to 182 productions, it’s really hard to choose a favourite.

What are your hopes for the future of the film and television industry in your province?

I would hope that we maintain the status of being a great destination. We also want to make sure that we don’t fall behind on what others are doing. There’s a spinoff effect that happens when you attract a major production: every dollar they spend creates four dollars in economic activity. That’s part of the reason that governments like ours are so enthusiastic when we hear of a big production. But I also think Albertans feel so proud when they see our beautiful landscapes and wonderful architecture on the big screen.

TV series or feature films?

TV series. I fall in love with the characters, and a movie’s almost too short when that happens.

Popcorn or candy?

Popcorn, 100 per cent. I can go without butter, but sometimes a little truffle salt is delicious.

Premier doug ford

Ontario

“As premier, I will always
support and promote our vibrant film and television industry, because our people here in Ontario are the most talented and capable in the world.”

What benefits have you seen from your government’s investment in Ontario’s film and TV industry, particularly in terms of job creation and the economy?

The film industry in Ontario is world-class. In 2022, we had a record-breaking year, with 45,000 indirect and direct jobs in the film and TV industry and $3.2 billion in direct spending. This year, we are well on our way to recovering after last year’s US-based strike.

As premier, I will always support and promote our vibrant film and television industry, because our people here in Ontario are the most talented and capable in the world.

Are there any policies or actions your government has taken to promote the industry that you would like to highlight?

When we formed government in 2018, I said right off the bat that I wanted to support film and television productions in getting to a $5 billion industry. We’ve taken really important steps, including making location fees eligible for the tax credits; making online productions eligible for tax credits; simplifying the computer animation and special effects tax credit; and keeping the industry open during COVID, thanks to strong health and safety regulations and the diligence of the production staff and talent.

Just this last spring, we made a $3.5 million investment through the Northern Ontario Heritage Fund Corporation into four film and television projects filmed in and around North Bay. This investment will help create jobs, attract talent and increase the quality of film and television series produced in Nipissing.

We’ve invested in training and retaining workers through our Skills Development Fund. I encourage productions to apply for this funding that will keep our film workforce competitive with jurisdictions around the world.

My number one priority as premier is to let the world know that great things are happening here in Ontario. As a government, we’ve cut billions of dollars in red tape and duplicative regulations. The film and television industry is so important to local economies across our province, and I’ll continue to have their backs.

Are there any recent projects filmed in your province that you were particularly excited about?

We have a lot of really successful shows that have been made here for several years— Star Trek, Schitt’s Creek, The Handmaid’s Tale, Murdoch Mysteries. However, what really excites me is seeing production studios making long-term commitments right here in Ontario. We recently saw Amazon commit to Pinewood Studios, with productions like Reacher filming there. We’ve got a new show filming at Cinespace called Heavy Metal that I’m looking forward to seeing.

Our province is attracting world-class productions. I understand some Ontario-made movies will be shown at TIFF this year that had support through Ontario Creates, and I’m really pleased about that.

What are your hopes for the future of the film and television industry in your province?

I’ve been clear since the day I became premier that I want Ontario’s film and television industry to reach $5 billion. I think we’re well on our way. We’ve got the best talent, the best locations and the best industry infrastructure out there. We’ve got massive urban cities, quaint towns, four seasons of weather, and state-of-the-art film studios. But more than anything else, we’ve got the best workers in the world right here in Ontario.

What is your all-time favourite TV show or movie?

I really loved the Police Academy movies—and some of them were filmed right here in Ontario!

Premier TIM HOUSTON

Nova Scotia

“As long as I’m premier
of Nova Scotia, the film industry here has a partner, and I will make sure that productions, producers, actors, anyone that touches film and television knows that. The benefits to our
province are too great.”

What benefits have you seen from your government’s investment in Nova Scotia’s film and TV industry, particularly in terms of job creation and the economy?

I’m a big fan of Nova Scotia’s film and television sector, and I understand its importance to the cultural and economic fabric of Nova Scotia.

My background is as an accountant, so numbers matter to me. Here is what the film and television industry does for our economy. During the 2021–22 period, the film industry injected $180.8 million into the local economy, supporting 650 well-paying jobs across the province. In the last full fiscal year (2023–24), 83 projects were approved through the Nova Scotia Film & Television Production Incentive Fund, for a total investment of $39 million. This investment resulted in $140,707,804 in direct spending in Nova Scotia.

I also love the fact that when people see our beautiful province on TV and the big screen, they google where the production was shot, and then want to visit our province. Film is an incredible tourism opportunity.

Are there any policies or actions your government has taken to promote the industry that you would like to highlight?

This strategic financial investment in the film fund is pivotal for fostering a thriving, competitive creative sector within our province. It underlines our commitment to nurturing an environment where filmmakers, screenwriters and performers can thrive.

Supporting our local film industry not only creates a direct impact on our local economy, but also has a cross-sectoral effect. Film and tourism have cultivated a mutually enriching relationship, thanks in part to the collaborative efforts between Tourism Nova Scotia, Screen Nova Scotia and our community of filmmakers.

In October 2022, I recognized the need to expand the More Opportunity for Skilled Trades (MOST) program to include film and video operators. For eligible film and video operators under the age of 30, the program returns their Nova Scotia provincial income tax paid on the first $50,000 of eligible income earned.

In June 2024, on set in Cape Breton, I introduced a Distant Location Incentive to the Nova Scotia Film and Television Production Incentive Fund, intended to stimulate production-based economic activity in more areas throughout the province.

Are there any recent projects filmed in your province that you are particularly excited about?

Of course. Washington Black filmed in our province for 56 days, with 39 of those days in rural locations such as Louisbourg, Lunenburg and Mount Uniacke, Avondale and Peggy’s Cove. This not only showcases Nova Scotia’s diverse landscapes, but also brings economic benefits to these areas.

Sullivan’s Crossing is returning to film in the province this year. This will be the third season of this series, which airs on CTV.

We Were Liars is a series for Amazon Prime Video, produced by NBCUniversal, currently filming in our province.

Most recently, I visited the set of Little Lorraine, based on a true story, being filmed in Cape Breton.

What are your hopes for the future of the film and television industry in your province?

To keep thriving, growing and promoting our beautiful province. As long as I’m premier of Nova Scotia, the film industry here has a partner, and I will make sure that productions, producers, actors, anyone that touches film and television knows that. The benefits to our province are too great.

What is your all-time favourite TV show or movie?

Anything filmed in Nova Scotia!

Every quarter, Evan Shapiro listens to the earnings calls of all the publicly traded media companies in the US—roughly 100 of them—and compares the earnings transcripts to the actual numbers. He constantly tracks the growth or decline of each of these, plus about 25 privately owned media companies. Using this information, he redraws the map he first drew in 2020, which looks like the map of a solar system through the lens of a fever dream: a handful of terrifyingly huge planets, then so many Venuses and Neptunes, then dwarf planets so small you could mistake them for space debris.

The map tells, with startling clarity, the complicated story of today’s media universe, in which the planets keep expanding, contracting, vanishing. It has been the springboard for many what-does-it-all-mean conversations online (Shapiro publishes a popular Substack, Media War and Peace) as well as for Shapiro’s rebirth as a media thought leader, prognosticator and in-demand speaker (he’s a former network exec). The map is a work of art, really—one that’s never ever finished.

What else is it? “A lot of f***ing work, to be honest with you,” says Shapiro. Like herding cats? “Like chasing toddlers at a birthday party where they gave out sugar and meth.”

But, he points out, “It’s all I do now. And nobody else is doing it.”
Which is the reason he, and only he, carries the title of “media cartographer”—a name somebody called him a few years ago and which he decided to run with. “I thought, ‘That’s a really good title,’” says Shapiro. “A cartographer is someone who helps lead through the darkness to a path of insight. I think that’s really good.”

Insights have become Shapiro’s stock-in-trade. Here’s one of them: while many lament that, today, too few companies control the media, “control” of the media has long rested in the hands of a small number. Prior to the Industrial Revolution, it was the Crown or the Church; afterwards, several corporations began to take over. Shapiro says this is partly due to the fact that the media is a “shapeshifting organism,” slippery and prone to consolidation.

The last time Shapiro redrew his map, he had to expand its size to accommodate the three “Death Stars”: Microsoft, Apple and Nvidia (whose astronomical growth Shapiro predicted three years ago), valued at approximately $3 trillion each. The map makes plain the gravitational pull those larger bodies have on the smaller ones around them—a dynamic the Canadian production industry knows all too well, as it strives to remain in its own orbit next to the American behemoth.

Shapiro has insight on this dynamic as well. When it comes to smaller players like Canada staying relevant—surviving, even—in this media ecosystem, he believes in the value of a muscular cultural policy. He applauds the effort of the Canadian government to bring the streamers into its regulatory framework with Bill C-11.

“It’s not protectionism; it’s not socialism,” says Shapiro (who, as an American, is well acquainted with that line of thinking). “It is really the responsibility and provenance of a government to foster creativity within the community who are native to that region. That’s how we get a diverse set of content on the planet Earth.”

“It’s not protectionism; it’s not socialism. It is really the responsibility and provenance of a government to foster creativity within the community who are native to that region. That’s how we get a diverse set of content on the planet Earth.”

Evan Shapiro

As the former president of the IFC Channel, he’s worked within Canadian broadcast regulations before. He understood they were tough, and followed them anyway. As such, Shapiro has little patience for streamers who may be bothered by the new regulations. “They’ve been getting a real free ride for a real long time,” he says. “Why are they so special?”

Bill C-11 may not be perfect, he says. But there is no perfect regulation: “There is the best attempt that humans can make, and I think [C-11] is a great first attempt.”

He’s also emphatic about the importance of a strong public service media. He laments the way that public broadcasters—NPR and PBS in the US, CBC in Canada—are under constant attack from their parent governments. In his opinion, “A healthy, vibrant public service media should be the first thing that governments are focused on.”

He goes further: “I think anybody who gets to be a nominee of a major party in any territory on Earth should have to take a media literacy course before they get on the ballot. I don’t care what your political leanings are. Understand the media, understand the Internet, understand what happens when you hand an iPhone to a 12-year-old. Understand it. Think about it. And then you get to run for office.”

After all, it’s the media’s universe; we’re just living in it.

Indiescreen spoke with industry representatives from across the region to hear their takes on where they’ve been, where they’re going, and the new projects that are building momentum for the industry out east.

What has the past decade (or so) been like?

Laura Mackenzie: To be honest with you, I’m not a huge fan of focusing on the past-I think we’re well beyond it at this point. But it is part of our story, so I always start with the fact that it was nine years ago that Nova Scotia’s tax credit was eliminated. Since then, to make the longest story short, we’ve now recovered to the point that our production volume is higher than it was pre-2015.

Laura Churchill: Newfoundland and Labrador’s production industry was struggling, in large part because the government had other priorities. Our current premier, Premier Furey, has identified film and TV production as a real growth area. He understands what is going on with the rest of Canada, where production is booming, and he wants the same for Newfoundland and Labrador.

Steve Foster: New Brunswick lost our tax credit back in 2011, and nothing happened for quite a few years after that, so there was a fairly mass exodus of our crew and our producers to Nova Scotia. Then they had their debacle, and they recouped from that, but ours didn’t recoup for years. But eventually something started to come back, and we moved to a grant program. I think we’re at a stage where we’re still building, and we can take the best pages from everyone else’s books and try to make them our own.

Meaghan Brander: I can echo similar statements for PEI. We have a very supportive government currently, and this specific government increased our rebate back in 2021. We’re finding that the industry is attracting more younger people, and part of the work we’ve been trying to do to grow the industry on the Island is educating the educators: making them aware that a career in the arts and film is a viable opportunity.

What has allowed the industry to survive and thrive?


LM: Having a strong community is probably the most important factor—a strong film community that didn’t leave and stayed and rallied and worked with government to reinstate the current incentive. But having a strong government that supports your film industry is what will ultimately make or break the success of any jurisdiction.

What was interesting is when the government changed and Premier Houston’s government came in, it was a couple of years before anything actually changed—before we had any changes to our incentive, before we had any investment across the industry—but what we had was hope. And that was enough to create the kind of momentum required to bring people into the industry, so that when the financing came, we were ready. It sounds somewhat whimsical, but it’s just true. When the new government came in and was encouraging and welcoming and got the math and understood the return on the investment, the feeling in Nova Scotia just changed.

All of a sudden, we were attracting service productions back to the province.

LC: Government support, the creation of a new all-spend tax credit, and the investment in education (a new film school was launched). It’s understanding what the community needs and then making it happen. When the government is able to do that, your growth can become exponential, which is really exciting for us.

What production(s) catalyzed growth in your province’s screen industry?

LM: The Lighthouse, which came to Nova Scotia in 2018, was pivotal for us in terms of encouraging other productions to come as well. As we know, it’s a small community out there in Los Angeles, and everybody talks, and as soon as you’ve got A24 and Robert Eggers and Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson speaking highly about your crews and your performers and just generally about the industry, that word spreads far and wide pretty quickly.

LC: One thing that has really helped us is getting a television show. We traditionally were doing smaller features, that type of thing, but Republic of Doyle was really the show that started us off on our path of “This can be a living”—for creators, but also for other people in the community, who can actually work in film and not leave Newfoundland and Labrador to pursue other things in hubs like Toronto and Vancouver. They can stay here and create and be a part of something. And that really did build our crew base. And it gave people the confidence to create their own works. That strong base helped us then build toward where we are now, where we’re trying to do more with service production and things like that.

SF: In 2020, at the very beginning of COVID, we produced Race Against the Tide, and it was one of those happy shows, and we were able to be unapologetically New Brunswick in it. It aired across Canada at a time when people wanted to watch fun things. I think that’s when the Higgs government really saw the potential of the production industry.

MB: When the government increased our rebate, we were able to attract a season of a CBC series, Diggstown, which was the first big experience on a film set for a lot of folks on the Island. Previously, we’ve had reality shows come through, and there have been a lot of smaller commercials; but after that series, a local team was able to make a feature film, Who’s Yer Father?, which has really helped shine a spotlight on the Island in the last 12 months. And that experience has been great for the Island. I think when people see the success of their peers, it makes them want to participate in that as well, and think about their own stories and their own ideas.

What’s a recent notable production in your province?

LM: I’m going to shine a spotlight on Vollies, which is a Bell Fibe TV series that has been produced in Nova Scotia for the last three years. The series centres on a small-town fire department where the volunteers have too much time on their hands, and they never actually have any fires to fight. Creator Jonathan Torrens is a hometown hero who’s a prolific actor as well as director and producer, and we’re just really proud of that show.

LC: Disney’s Peter Pan and Wendy was instrumental for us—it was the government’s trial of how an all-spend tax credit could work. It was not a local production, but the on-the-ground producer was Allison White (Sara Frost Pictures). To be able to run a show of that size while we also had two or three other TV shows going, plus all the Hallmark productions, really showed us our capabilities.

Also, the two television shows Son of a Critch and Hudson & Rex show off our province as Newfoundland and Labrador. We’re not trying to double as something else, and there’s a lot of pride in that as well.

SF: We just finished a co-production between Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, Unseen, about unseen homelessness. It was Telefilm funded, and it was a really beautiful project, and I’m really proud of how it ended up. We’re hoping to get to the festivals this year, but there will be a theatrical release and then it’s going to Crave in 2025.

MB: Who’s Yer Father?, which was filmed in 2022 and released theatrically last November. It’s among the top 10 English-language Canadian films within the last year, which is great. They hired 50 Islanders to work on the film, so it was a really great opportunity for everyone.

What do you hope the future has in store?

LM: I think all of us have big visions for our provinces, and we have to—that’s our job. But, practically speaking, I’d like to cement the foundation that we’ve built over the last couple of years. Really make sure that we’re building out our workforce in a very specific way. We have been looking for a location for a soundstage for the past couple of years, and we’d like to get that up and running.

We are also really excited about our first Telefilm national budget that we have filming this year, called Places of Ghosts, by Bretten Hannam, who is a two-spirited Indigenous filmmaker in Nova Scotia. What a success, to have an Indigenous national feature budget filming in Nova Scotia. So that is really exciting. So we want to increase our allocation from national funding bodies across the country, and in order to do that, we have to focus on the creativity and the support that exists in our own provinces. I’m really focused on developing our filmmakers in terms of their scriptwriting.

LC: For us, we have always based decisions on funding, which is good and important, but because of that, we haven’t been focusing on our creators, our filmmakers, our writers, in that way. In the future, I would love to see us focusing more on developing that side of things, so that the creators, the showrunners, the writers, they’re not just writing for Newfoundland and Labrador shows, they’re being exported in many different ways and getting those sensibilities out to national and international audiences.

And, like the others, I’d like to see us build our infrastructure. Certain parts of film and television can happen here, but because we don’t have studios, that goes to another service area. How can we double down and offer a more holistic way of producing in Newfoundland and Labrador?

SF: I think things are looking up. We’ve got a large series coming, and I think that’s what needs to happen. We need to start bringing in large series, so that we can build crew. One series a year isn’t going to sustain anything. So we’re really trying to educate the province and the government on how to make that work here. Like PEI, we’re working with the educators: we’re working with New Brunswick Community College, we’re working with the different guilds and the unions, to offer courses to New Brunswickers that are subsidized by the government, and to subsidize producers for hiring the people who take these courses. It allows producers to hire juniors with little risk, and the juniors get experience.

Also, a soundstage would be nice. We don’t have anything like that in New Brunswick, anywhere. Building capacity, educating, building infrastructure—that’s really where we need to go at this stage.

MB: We’d love to, like Newfoundland, have a local series shooting on the Island. We saw the success of Republic of Doyle, and we want a piece of that for ourselves. We want to tell more stories, different stories, current stories. The Carley Fortune novel, This Summer Will Be Different, has been a big deal here locally, so it would be great to get that adapted to a feature.

In terms of local talent, last year we had two projects funded through Telefilm, which had never happened before. Some of the success of the recent shows and films that have shot here have helped get people excited and wanting to work. One of the projects funded through Telefilm is an Indigenous documentary, and we can’t wait to share that story with the country.

Call them pioneers, call them innovators, call them trailblazers—Eastern Canada’s current production strength is the result of the dedication and work of industry champions across the region. Here, we applaud four of the heavy lifters.

JAN MILLER

Industry champion, connector, driving force: Nova Scotia–based Jan Miller deserves all of these titles. The list of initiatives she’s helped create, launch and run is eye-poppingly long: the Local Heroes Film Festival in Edmonton, back in 1984; Strategic Partners, an international co-production event that encourages collaboration between Canada and the world; Trans Atlantic Partners, an international training program for established film and TV producers; the National Screen Institute film and TV training school; Women in Film and Television Atlantic (WIFT-AT) and Women in View—and always with a commitment to raising up diverse creative talent. According to Mackenzie, “She has this incredible history of driving growth in the film industry across Canada.” The Maritimes are proud to claim her.

MICHAEL VOLPE

From Mr. D to Trailer Park Boys to The Lighthouse, it seems everything that Michael Volpe produces turns to gold. The president of Halifax’s Topsail Entertainment has had a similar effect on the province’s screen industry. He was instrumental in getting Nova Scotia’s film tax credit reinstated, and it’s no coincidence that his tenure as board chair of Screen Nova Scotia has seen a huge boost in government investment in the sector, including $23 million toward building capacity and a new soundstage. Clearly, he’s a good one to have on your team.

DAVID MACLEOD

Canada’s production industry was gutted to lose David MacLeod in February of this year. The industry builder and veteran producer (North of 60, Black Harbour, Pure) was a long-time board member of the CMPA—he also served as chair for two years—and founding member of Screen Nova Scotia. “‘Pioneer’ is the right word for David,” says Laura Mackenzie of Screen Nova Scotia. “He was at the head of the table when Screen Nova Scotia had to come together to rally around the reinstating of the tax credit, and he was absolutely foundational in the work that we had to do.” He helped lay the foundation for many of Nova Scotia’s successes, and he is deeply missed.

PAUL POPE

When Paul Pope passed away in 2022, the City of St. John’s called him “a dynamic force in Newfoundland’s film and television industry.” The long-time producer (Grown Up Movie Star, Hudson & Rex) was a founding member of NIFCO (Newfoundland Independent Film Makers Co-op), which offers practical support and a post-production facility for film and TV creators; vice-chair of the Canada Media Fund; and a member of the CMPA board of directors. An unselfish mentor with many accolades to his name (including the Legend Award from St. John’s), Pope worked toward the establishment of a film school in Newfoundland, which was announced through the College of the North Atlantic shortly before he passed away. Says Laura Churchill of PictureNL, “Paul saw what film could do for a province and its people.”