producer

On Sept. 11, 2001, there were no smartphones and no social media. What the country watched that morning — a jet airliner colliding with the south tower of the World Trade Center, the ash rolling through the streets, the paper still falling in the afternoon — was through a television set and the journalists who had to deliver the unfathomable details.

The jarring images shattered the peacefulness of a sunshine-filled late summer morning in New York.

“Everything seemed so perfect,” said MS NOW’s Chris Jansing, reflecting on the moments before anchoring her network’s continuous coverage. “It was another day of doing a job I loved, living in a city I loved.”

By nightfall, nearly 3,000 people were dead in lower Manhattan, at the Pentagon and in a field outside Shanksville, Pa. The experience of covering the terrorist attacks and their grim aftermath transformed Jansing and other journalists who were there. Twenty-five years later, it’s never far from their minds.

“It’s with me in ways large and small,” said NJ Burkett, a correspondent who covered the tragedy for New York station WABC. “When I look at my phone and it says 9:11, it takes me back.”

The Times asked five of the on-air personalities who are still working today to look back on the day they were called to cover the tragedy and its lasting impact.

Bret Baier: “I just said yes to everything.”

Fox News anchor Bret Baier at the National 9/11 Pentagon Memorial in Arlington, Va., on Aug. 25, 2026.

(Jared Soares/For The Times)

On every anniversary of Sept. 11, Fox News anchor Bret Baier uses the hashtag #NeverForget. He can recall every moment of that day.

Baier, 56, was driving to the Fox News bureau in Atlanta when he first heard on his car radio that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. He was a 31-year-old correspondent for the network, covering stories throughout the southeast U.S. and Latin America. When he arrived at the office, a call came from New York headquarters telling him to book a flight to the city so he could file reports from the World Trade Center site for Fox TV affiliates around the United States.

After a second plane hit the south tower of the World Trade Center 17 minutes later, all flights in the U.S. were halted. Baier and his producer were told to get a car and start driving.

“I just remember going really fast when I was driving,” Baier said. “I remember thinking what is happening with the world, and how big this story is. How big this moment is.”

By the time the duo reached northern Georgia, their plans changed again. A jetliner struck the Pentagon while a San Francisco-bound United Airlines flight crashed in Shanksville, Pa. Fox News executives told Baier and his producer to reroute to Arlington, Va.

After the 10-hour drive, Baier started the first of 10 straight days of reporting on the recovery efforts at the site. While the World Trade Center provided the most dramatic and enduring pictures of the stunning attack, the loss of life at the Pentagon was staggering as well, as 125 people died along with the 64 passengers and crew members on American Airlines Flight 77.

Baier was eventually pulled into the larger military story that followed 9/11. Fox News, just 5 years old, did not have a full-time Pentagon correspondent. Baier was offered the job while traveling overseas with Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, who was making the case for war against Afghanistan.

“I called a buddy on a satellite phone to get me an apartment in Washington,” he said. “Fox packed up my stuff in Atlanta.”

But the unplanned move changed Baier’s life. In six years on the Pentagon beat, he traveled to 74 countries. He was embedded with the military in war zones. “I just said yes to everything,” said Baier, who has anchored Fox News’ Washington newscast “Special Report” since 2009.

Baier recalled it was in the weeks after Sept. 11 that he first wore an American flag pin on his lapel. He never felt conflicted about it, even though such displays were prohibited at other network news divisions. “I thought I could report on America, ask tough questions and still be an American, pulling for us to win,” he said. “I wanted to be tough but fair, but also show that as a country we were standing together against this horrible attack.”

Byron Pitts covering the terrorist attacks in lower Manhattan for CBS News on Sept. 11, 2001.

(CBS)

Byron Pitts: “It’s the only story I think about every day.”

A newcomer to New York 25 years ago, Byron Pitts, then a CBS News correspondent, admitted it took him a few moments to understand the massive scope of what happened the morning of Sept. 11, 2001. He arrived early at the network’s headquarters on the West Side of Manhattan to screen an interview he did with entertainer and civil rights icon Harry Belafonte. Shortly after he started, a producer knocked on his door and told him there was a plane crash at the World Trade Center.

Pitts, 65, acknowledged the producer but kept working. “I thought it was a novice pilot bumping into a building,” he recalled. “I thought it would be three hours out of my day and it won’t make television.”

The producer came back shortly and said, “You need to go down there.”

An irritated Pitts hailed a cab and headed down the West Side Highway. While in the car, he learned a second plane had hit the south tower. Traffic was stopped and he had to head downtown by foot.

As Pitts got closer to the site, he tried to use his past experiences covering fires and other disasters during his career to judge the severity of the situation.

But the horrible scenes that unfolded before him were incomparable. One was a lifeless body near the lobby of the north tower. He thought it was a homeless man until he saw a uniform. He later learned it was Father Mychal Judge, the chaplain of the New York Fire Department killed by fallen debris. Judge’s body was later carried away by a group of first responders. Pitts saw a woman and a man standing at a window of one of the towers holding hands, and then jumping.

“Gravity takes over and their hands split, and he moves a little faster than she does,” Pitts said. “And we see them on the ground. That was the moment I realized something significant was going on.”

Pitts crossed paths with Mika Brzezinski, then a CBS News correspondent, now the cohost of MS NOW’s “Morning Joe.” As debris came down and smoke filled the air, they headed into an elementary school that Pitts believes was a command post for the fire and police departments. They took turns calling into CBS News on a hard-line phone, one delivering accounts of the unfolding catastrophe while the other looked outside to gather details amid the blinding smoke and dust.

Pitts said from that day forward, he never went to a story assignment without a handkerchief.

Pitts was awed not just by the enormity of the event, but also by how despite the rigid hierarchy of CBS News, he was “the new kid on the block” who had to present the story on Dan Rather’s evening newscast that night.

“My approach became almost childlike, so I would not become overwhelmed,” he said. “I tried to make it as simple as possible. I said, ‘Dan, I’ve never heard New York City this quiet.’ I was thinking — what simple thing can I say that you would understand if you’ve never been in New York.”

A few weeks later, Pitts headed off to Afghanistan to cover the U.S. military action. His evening news report on Sept. 11 won an Emmy Award and his star rose at CBS News, leading to “60 Minutes” and then ABC News in 2014, where he is currently a co-anchor of “Nightline.”

Pitts knows the good fortune he’s had in TV journalism is linked to the tragedy that started with a producer’s knock on his door 25 years ago. “I feel some measure of guilt but mostly gratitude,” he said. “It’s the only story I think about every day.”

Pitts said he uses his 9/11 experience to provide perspective. “When we’re discussing politics, a mass shooting, or the latest awful day in Iran, I know for a fact there is one guy in the room who has seen worse and who can say, ‘we’ll be OK,’ ” he said.

Chris Jansing: “You had to balance the news response with the human response.”

Chris Jansing paid her dues as a local reporter in upstate New York before she joined MSNBC (now called MS NOW) as a daytime anchor in 1998. She loved living in Manhattan, and took friends from out of town to the World Trade Center observation decks and Windows on the World, the restaurant on the 106th floor of the north tower.

“It was so iconically New York,” she said. “And I was proud to live in the city.”

Jansing, 69, had little time to process her emotions when she was told to “get in the chair” before 9 a.m. that morning at MSNBC’s Secaucus, N.J., studios after the first plane hit.

“You had to balance the news response with the human response,” she recalled.

For several hours, Jansing co-anchored the network’s coverage alongside Gregg Jarrett. The look of 24-hour cable news evolved that day, as the tsunami of information led to Fox News, MSNBC and CNN all adding running tickers at the bottom of the screen.

Jansing went to the roof of the network’s building after Brian Williams took over the anchor chair. Trauma centers in the area had been alerted, and she was told to watch for ambulances. “There was still a hope and a prayer that there would be injured folks who would overwhelm the hospitals in New York and would need to be brought to New Jersey,” Jansing recalled. She saw none.

Jansing has never watched the coverage of that day, which is now on YouTube. She had real-life reminders every day in her Manhattan neighborhood when she walked by the Rescue Company 1 firehouse that lost half its battalion at the crash site. She adopted a dog left behind by a 9/11 victim, a Dachshund named Baron. She remains friends with every producer she worked with on the story. The experience also reinforced her purpose in a career approaching its 50th year.

“I will always think that those moments are what keep you going,” said Jansing, currently chief political reporter for MS NOW. “They were an affirmation that’s kept me in the job,”

NJ Burkett, a correspondent for WABC, on the 13th floor of the Walt Disney Co. offices in Manhattan on Aug. 31, 2026.

(Roshni Khatri/For The Times)

NJ Burkett: “I put myself in increasingly dangerous situations.”

Burkett, 64, recalls how pedestrians were gathered around WABC’s windowed street level studio on the Upper West Side of Manhattan when he arrived for work on 9/11. He presumed the crowd was there for a big name guest on “Live with Regis and Kelly.” They were actually watching monitors showing news reports of the first plane that hit the north tower.

As Burkett and his cameraman Marty Glembotzky headed downtown in a truck, he already knew it was a terror attack. He recalled covering the 1993 terrorist bombing of the World Trade Center and regretted not getting footage of the firefighters’ rescue efforts. This time around he wanted to go inside the buildings and document their heroism.

A police officer stopped Burkett and Glembotzky before they could get in, likely saving their lives. A short time later, they would escape death again.

Burkett was doing a second take for a taped report that would set the scene for viewers when he heard the rumbling that “sounded like Niagara Falls.” It was the south tower of the World Trade Center coming down behind him. “A huge explosion now raining debris on us — we better get out of the way,” he said in what may be the most terrifying video clip from that morning.

Burkett and Glembotzky took cover in an adjacent building. “We open up the door and in a weird way it’s sort of providential, right?” he said. “The door is a metaphor. It’s like the door into the rest of your life. If we had to run for half a block, we’d be dead.”

Glembotzky was so shaken by the experience, he stepped away from his career as a cameraman and became a wine seller before eventually returning. But Burkett took on more dangerous assignments in the Middle East, heading to Israel to cover the Palestinian uprising known as the Second Intifada. He later headed to Iraq to cover the run-up to the U.S. invasion in 2003.

Burkett won a George Foster Peabody Award for his work on 9/11. In retrospect, he believes he took on assignments in war zones to avoid dealing with the trauma of the day.

“I would put myself into increasingly dangerous situations,” he said. “Looking back, I was running from 9/11. That was my way of coping. Sometimes I wonder did I allow myself feel it enough. Or did I just run too far and too hard and it will all come down and crash on me one day?”

Occasionally he worries about 9/11-related illnesses. “If I start to cough — the slightest little cough — I’ll think ‘is this it?’” he said.

But as a New York TV fixture since 1989, Burkett still feels the appreciation from viewers for his efforts. “To this day, almost 25 years later, people will come up to me on the street and ask to hug me and say ‘NJ Burkett I’m glad you’re alive,’ ” he said.

Carson Daly at NBC’s “Today” show studio at Rockefeller Plaza in Manhattan on Sept. 3, 2026.

(Roshni Khatri/For The Times)

Carson Daly: “I remember how motionless the room was.”

As continuous news coverage of the Sept. 11 attacks saturated television for days, the makers of entertainment shows had to decide when it would be appropriate to go back to work. Carson Daly and the MTV executives mulled over the situation as their wildly popular program “Total Request Live” remained off the air for three days since the attacks.

“We had such a massive audience that the question was raised, ‘do we have a responsibility to simply show up?’ ” Daly, 53, recalled in a recent interview.

Daly, now a feature anchor on NBC’s “Today,” was not a journalist by trade. But he understood the trust that young viewers had in him and “TRL,” a live show that counted down the most popular music videos of the moment. The show had dealt with tragedy a few years before after the high school shooting in Columbine, Colo.

But 9/11 happened on the home turf of “TRL,” which aired from New York City’s Times Square. With the bridges and tunnels closed, getting a crew to the studio was a challenge.

“Everybody wore multiple hats,” said Daly, who also served as an executive producer.

By Sept. 14 of that week, the MTV studio on Broadway was filled with young “TRL” fans, but lacked the energy viewers were used to seeing on the screen. “They were frozen,” Daly recalled. “That was in such stark contrast to what the show was every day. I remember how motionless the room was and feeling like, ‘What am I doing on television?’ ”

Carson Daly shows a tattoo he got after the 9/11 attacks in New York.

(Roshni Khatri/For The Times)

Daly leaned on the MTV News team to update the audience on the 9/11 story developments. Music stars including Jay-Z, Justin Timberlake and Kid Rock called into the program to share their thoughts with Daly. Instead of music videos, the screen showed email messages from viewers expressing their feelings about the tragedy.

MTV News personality Sway delivered a music news report that noted how two new CD releases — “Party Music” by the American hip-hop group The Coup and Dream Theater’s “Live Scenes from New York” — were delayed because both used cover artwork that depicted the destruction of the World Trade Center.

Daly has a permanent remembrance of the week. When he arrived at the MTV offices the day before “TRL” returned, the building was evacuated after it received a bomb threat.

“I remember walking around Hell’s Kitchen,” he said. “I ended up getting a tattoo. A red, white and blue NYC on my right wrist.”

“Obsession,” the indie horror movie written and directed by Curry Barker, has proved to be one of this year’s most successful films. Made for a reported budget of about $750,000, it has earned more than $500 million at the global box office since Focus Features released it in May — the biggest hit in the distributor’s history, according to a new lawsuit.

But one of its producers, Leonora Ann Darby, is claiming she hasn’t received her share of the profit.

Darby, who rose to become one of three producers at Tea Shop Productions, the U.K. company behind the movie, sued Tea Shop, its Delaware affiliate The Tea Shop & Film Company, and co-founders James Harris and Mark Lane in Los Angeles County Superior Court. The 135-page complaint lays out 10 causes of action — among them, breach of contract, retaliation for wage complaints, whistleblower retaliation and unfair competition — and describes a seven-year pattern of “unequal treatment and broken compensation promises.” Darby has demanded a jury trial.

Harris and Lane allegedly treated Darby “as their subordinate, including in a highly demeaning and gendered manner,” and continually refused to compensate her properly, “culminating in ruthlessly cutting Darby out of the overall net profits” for “Obsession,” the lawsuit says.

“Ms. Darby has brought serious and substantial claims, supported by a detailed factual record,” Darby’s lawyer Thomas K. Richards of the Beverly Hills firm Singh, Singh & Trauben, said in a statement. “She is confident in her case and intends to pursue it fully.”

Tea Shop has already rejected the core of her claim. In an Aug. 13 letter attached to the complaint as an exhibit, the company’s lawyer wrote that Darby “was an employee and, subsequently, a consultant” who has never been a member, shareholder or owner of Tea Shop, and therefore has no right to inspect the company’s financial records. The parties’ written agreement, the letter says, does not entitle her to profit participation or collection-account status on “Obsession” or on any other film not previously identified in writing, and she “has been compensated in accordance with the parties’ agreement.” Tea Shop Productions did not respond to a request for comment.

Darby is credited on screen as an executive producer of “Obsession,” rather than as a producer — a decision she says the company made despite Lane’s absence from the production in 2025 and limited involvement with the film. She claims she functioned as a lead producer under Tea Shop’s own internal definition, a distinction at the center of the case, because the profit deal she is suing over applies only to films she lead-produced.

The complaint alleges that she stepped in at a point when the edit had been taken away from Barker and handed to a new editor, leaving the movie “mired in an edit that was not working.” She “provided fundamental and critical creative and structural notes that changed the course of the film,” “advocated heavily” for the edit to be returned to Barker, and recommended the reshoots that followed, according to the suit. She then took on the post-production, credits, clearance and delivery work that got the film finished in time for its Toronto International Film Festival premiere, where Focus bought it for about $16.2 million — well above the $14 million to $15 million that trades were reporting during negotiations.

Once the value of the movie became apparent, the lawsuit alleges, she was iced out. She wasn’t invited to the Los Angeles premiere and was “deliberately” cut out of major trade articles and interviews, the suit says, including a May profile of Harris and Lane that didn’t name her. Her name was added to that piece in August, after she complained.

Darby first started working at the company in 2019, as a development and production executive. In this role, the lawsuit said, she was responsible for originating and developing projects, attaching filmmakers, assembling financing and producing films from preproduction through delivery. She originated and produced movies including “A Banquet,” “Tornado” and “The Surfer,” which stars Nicolas Cage.

In 2024, she and Tea Shop allegedly reached an agreement raising her salary to 100,000 pounds and entitling her to a third of the net profits Tea Shop itself receives on films she lead-produced, “together with direct participation in the applicable collection account management agreements” — the deals that govern how money from a film is divided among its participants.

Tea Shop has allegedly honored that arrangement on other films. On “Obsession,” the complaint says, Darby was paid $300,000 out of the film’s initial minimum guarantee after Tea Shop directed her company, Runt Productions, to invoice for “Services: Obsession.” That payment, the suit argues, was fixed compensation for her producing services — not a settlement, release or buyout, with no writing calling it full and final.

In addition to her share of Tea Shop’s profits on “Obsession,” Darby is seeking a full accounting for several projects as well as unpaid wages, expenses and relief for retaliation.

Production services vendor Quixote stunned Hollywood in April when it said it was winding down most of its Los Angeles soundstage business, delivering another blow to an industry already buffeted by steep losses in film and TV production.

Now, one of those facilities is attempting to stage a comeback.

Film and TV producer Manny Halley said he has taken over a 125,000-square-foot former Quixote North Valley complex on Montague Street in Pacoima under a 25-year lease with an option to buy, and plans to reopen it this fall under the name Imani Studio. The land is owned by Rexford Industrial Realty, which is not a party to the production business.

Halley’s credits include the “True to the Game” film trilogy that featured Vivica A. Fox, and the BET reality TV series “Keyshia Cole: The Way It Is,” which ran on BET from 2006 to 2008.

In an interview, Halley declined to disclose the price he paid, but said the lease is worth more than $25 million and that the cost to build the facility three years ago was about $19 million. The deal was financed with capital from his Imani Media Group.

“Right now is a unique time for independent producers because we don’t have to sit back and wait for a studio,” he said. “And in order for us to build a library and keep going, we have to keep costs down. So having your own stage is going to keep costs down.”

Producer Manny Halley has taken over ownership of one of the former Quixote North Valley studio facilities in Pacoima.

(Dae Howerton and Dallas J. Logan)

Halley said he was also motivated by the ongoing production crisis in L.A. and the continued loss of industry jobs. His company has shot 18 productions in California, 14 of which received a state production incentive.

“Somebody’s got to believe in Hollywood,” Halley said. “It’s a sad industry right now, and I want to change it.”

He is making a long bet on a market a much larger company has struggled with. Former owner Hudson Pacific announced it was shutting down most of its L.A. soundstages as well as operations in Atlanta as part of a cost-reduction move.

The Los Angeles-based real estate company bought Quixote in 2022 for $360 million, saying at the time that the acquisition would address the growing demand for soundstage space. Quixote was originally founded in 1995.

Though L.A. area soundstages had average occupancy rates of about 90% from 2016 to 2022, their business plunged in 2023 amid the work stoppages of the writers’ and actors’ strikes, according to data from the nonprofit FilmLA, which tracks on-location shoot days in the Greater L.A. area. In 2024, the average occupancy rate was 63%.

“Keeping production infrastructure active and investing in California’s capacity to support film and television is essential to our long-term competitiveness,” California Film Commission Executive Director Colleen Bell said in a statement. “Facilities like this help keep productions here, sustain good-paying jobs, and support the thousands of businesses and workers that make up our entertainment economy.”

Halley said he plans to invest $2 million to $6 million into the facility, including additional staff and LED volume walls. He retained three employees to help run operations and hopes to hire others who previously worked there.

He said he plans to use the facility, which has four soundstages, to shoot his own shows and movies, but also intends to rent out space to other productions, including student projects.

“I just want to give everybody their opportunity to shine,” he said. “I want to give them their own playing field to create and make their visions come to life with affordable stages.”

But even if outside productions don’t rent the space, he said the facility could sustain itself on his company’s projects. Imani Media Group has a distribution arm that has worked with Amazon, Tubi and the major theater chains.

By late September, Halley said he intends to start shooting a “True to the Game” TV series at the Pacoima facility, as well as the BET comedy “Lot Patrol,” which the network recently picked up for an additional five episodes.

“Supporting Black ownership and entrepreneurship across the entertainment industry remains deeply important to BET,” Brian Rikuda, BET’s executive vice president of enterprise growth strategy, business operations, and programming strategy, said in a statement. “As Manny Halley expands Imani Studios into a 125,000-square-foot production home, we’re proud to continue our partnership rooted in a shared vision to create culturally impactful entertainment and expand opportunity in our industry.”

It was a television show tailor-made for Los Angeles: a highly anticipated Netflix crime drama about a team of ex-special forces operators who outsource their skills to criminals in the city.

The production was backed by a prominent indie studio and had a critically acclaimed lead actor attached. And with a budget of more than $100 million and a crew of 350, the series seemed like a shoo-in for California’s film tax and TV credit.

But last month, shortly before filming was set to begin, producers were stunned to learn the film didn’t make the cut based on a formula the state uses to rank projects by the number of jobs they produce and their spending levels. After two applications for a tax credit had been rejected, they opted to shoot the series in New Jersey, where it was much easier to qualify for film incentives.

“We were shocked,” said a producer on the project who declined to be identified because of the sensitivity of the matter. “This is the birthplace of entertainment. It shouldn’t be so hard to shoot here.”

Despite improvements to the state’s tax incentive program, Los Angeles and California continue to struggle to keep movies, television series and even game shows from fleeing elsewhere. Production levels have failed to bounce back since the pandemic and the labor strikes by writers and actors, and they remain at historic lows.

Film activity in the L.A. region plummeted in the second quarter of this year, with shoot days for feature films and TV productions falling 20% and 30%, respectively, compared with already anemic levels from a year ago, according to FilmLA.

The fallout has been devastating for local film crews and businesses. L.A.’s signature industry has shed some 57,000 jobs in the past four years, while more than 80 film and television production services businesses have closed since 2022. The production crisis has even become a political flashpoint alongside affordability, crime and homelessness in the race for mayor and governor.

The story of how L.A. steadily lost much of its homegrown industry to other locales is a tale of hubris, escalating costs, political inaction and fierce competition from states and countries hungry for a piece of the Hollywood pie. California eventually adopted a very limited film tax credit plan in 2009, but even then production had already gone elsewhere.

Filmmaker Jonathan Nolan, on the set of “Fallout,” has been at the forefront of efforts to keep Hollywood at the center of the entertainment industry.

(Lorenzo Sisti / Prime Video)

This account is based on interviews with more than a dozen producers, studio executives, lawmakers and film industry veterans.

Despite warning signs that runaway production was causing an exodus of talent and jobs, many took for granted that L.A. would remain the epicenter of film and television.

Film activity in Los Angeles has plummeted to historic lows, with devastating consequences for crews and vendors. This series examines how L.A. lost its dominant perch as a film and TV destination and what can be done to bring Hollywood back home.

“I’ve been around long enough … to realize that things kind of die slowly and then they die quickly,” said Jonathan Nolan, a writer, director and producer, whose credits include the HBO series “Westworld” and “Fallout” on Amazon.

Nolan, who championed efforts to get the state to expand its tax incentives, lamented that L.A. once “stood in for everywhere. Now L.A. doesn’t even stand in for itself.”

‘The X-Files’ and the birth of Hollywood North

Like the fall of Rome and the decline of Detroit, Hollywood’s spiral did not happen in a single day, but rather unfolded over decades.

Before World War II, Los Angeles’ production hegemony was uncontested. An abundance of sunny weather and a range of landscapes, along with highly skilled artisans, from set designers to scenic painters, re-created the entire world on Hollywood soundstages and backlots.

That began to change during the late 1940s and early 1950s when studios broke with tradition and filmed abroad, attracted by Europe’s cheap labor and the desire among directors for more realism in movies.

William Wyler’s 1953 classic “Roman Holiday,” starring Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, was one of the first, shot entirely overseas on the streets of the Italian capital and at Cinecittà studios.

Still, as productions went on location, often for creative reasons, Hollywood remained the center of entertainment gravity.

“Roman Holiday,” starring Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, was one of the first big American studio films to be shot entirely overseas.

(Paramount Pictures)

In 1993, when there were four broadcast networks, cable TV relied on set-top boxes and streamers were, well, party decorations, a relatively unknown television writer named Chris Carter began pre-production on a new supernatural drama series that he had created.

For the pilot’s opening scenes, he needed a forest, one that was dark and moody. There, a terrified teenage girl would be filmed fleeing before she was consumed by a blinding flash of light and then found dead, bearing unexplained marks on her body.

“It became clear that not only were there not great forests in the ‘zone,’” said Carter, referring to the 30-mile-zone (TMZ) around L.A. that producers try to shoot within to avoid mandatory union surcharges. “But there were better forests in Vancouver.”

As it happened, during the 14-day shoot, Carter, who was working with a tight budget, discovered that Vancouver supplied numerous benefits.

The grim weather naturally provided a spooky atmospheric backdrop while the city “beautifully doubled for almost any place in the U.S. without having to pretend too much,” he said.

Carter’s pilot became “The X-Files,” the wildly popular and groundbreaking 1990s TV series that ran for nine seasons (plus two revival seasons), redefined the science fiction genre and spawned two feature films.

The success of “The X-Files” propelled Vancouver’s reputation as “Hollywood North.”

(Associated Press)

“As David Duchovny said, ‘two weeks became five years,’” quipped Carter.

While other productions such as “Wiseguy” had filmed in British Columbia years earlier, “The X-Files” unintentionally cemented Vancouver’s reputation as “Hollywood North,” fueled by Canada’s favorable exchange rates, skilled crews, lower labor costs and, eventually, tax credits.

The show’s colossal success helped create the model still in play 33 years later for outsourcing movie and television production to regions where tax incentives are higher and production costs are lower.

“It was simply a choice I made for the location, not for the financial benefit,” said Carter. “It wasn’t part of my calculus, but it ended up being a fact of life.”

Throughout the 1990s a steady stream of TV shows and movies shot in Canada. The 1994 adaptation of “Little Women” starring Winona Ryder was largely filmed in Vancouver, with a stand-in for Orchard House, Louisa May Alcott’s home in Concord, Mass., built in a local forest.

But, at the time, few saw what was happening as an existential crisis in the making.

For one thing, L.A. was in the midst of a production boom, prompting the development of the $77-million Manhattan Beach Studios, a 22-acre production facility in 1996. (The studio is now fielding offers by its bank lenders after its owner, the real estate investment firm Hackman Capital Partners, defaulted on over $2 billion in mortgages on several studio facilities it had acquired in recent years.)

Losing the ‘golden goose’

Canada’s booming film business inspired other U.S. states to get in on the action. Louisiana became the first to pass a film tax incentive, enhancing it in 2002; New Mexico and Georgia followed with their own programs.

Helping to fuel the film tax credit frenzy was none other than the Motion Picture Assn. The Washington, D.C.-based advocacy group for the major film studios and streamers for years aggressively lobbied lawmakers and even governors in other states to adopt their own film programs.

Eventually, nearly 40 states and some 80 countries and territories were offering film incentives in the form of transferable tax credits, grants or rebates.

“Everybody thought, ‘We are Hollywood. Why do we have to do anything?,’” said Lori Balton, a top location manager, whose list of credits spans nearly 40 years and includes such films as “Heat” and “Once Upon a Time in … Hollywood.”

“They always thought that they had the golden goose. And it was going to keep laying eggs and instead, it packed up its bags and moved.”

Earlier this year, while speaking at Burbank City Hall chambers, Sen. Adam Schiff (D-Calif.) dropped some sobering data: 45% of all U.S. films and scripted television shows were shot abroad in 2025, up from 33% in 2022.

Like most filmmakers, Miles Millar would prefer to work in Los Angeles, where he lives, but he hasn’t done so for 25 years, since he was a co-producer and writer on the CBS action series “Martial Law.”

“It is not financially viable to shoot the kinds of shows we do here,” said Millar, whose work includes “Smallville” and “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.”

It was too expensive to film in Los Angeles, so the Netflix hit “Wednesday” shot its first season in Romania before relocating the show to Ireland.

(Netflix)

When Millar and his “Wednesday” co-creator and co-showrunner Alfred Gough began pre-production on the first season of the Netflix hit series about five years ago, L.A. as a location wasn’t even discussed.

They settled on Romania. Tim Burton, “Wednesday’s” executive producer and primary director, “loved the idea,” said Millar, noting that the director was predisposed to its gloomy and gothic wonders, having once visited Dracula’s castle in a Transylvanian mountain village with rocker Alice Cooper.

“We built the whole town of Jericho and six standing sets at a huge scale. There was no way you could even begin to construct the level and scale of sets that we did, in L.A.,” he said. “We’re talking about the difference of tens of millions of dollars.”

Still, the former Eastern Bloc country had its challenges. The crew didn’t speak English and its promised tax rebates never materialized.

When “Wednesday” was picked up for a second season (it is now filming its third), the show moved to Ireland, where it received more than $23 million in tax credits last year, according to the country’s Tax and Customs office.

“The last thing I want to do is shoot thousands of miles away from my family for nine months, year after year,” Millar said. But it has come down to “where do we get the most bang for the buck?”

Outsourcing scores and VFX

Other critical components of filmmaking, including visual effects and musical scoring, have also been outsourced over several years.

L.A. was once home to 18 film scoring stages that could accommodate full symphony orchestras. Today only three remain, driven away partly by high labor costs and cheaper overseas competition.

Similarly, many visual effects studios have moved elsewhere. Vancouver alone has dozens of visual effects studios, including Sony Pictures Imageworks and a major branch of Industrial Light & Magic.

“We’ve allowed that piece of the market to leave,” said Marielle Abaunza, president of the California Post Alliance, an advocacy group backing a state bill offering post-production firms their own tax breaks, similar to what New York offers.

“For 16 years, places like New York have slowly been building up their talent, their facilities, their relationships with filmmakers and their relationships with studios,” Abaunza said.

Even as other states and foreign governments invested in their own film industries and began luring away productions from California, lawmakers in Sacramento were initially skeptical of giving tax breaks to producers. Some critics saw them as little more than a handout that diverted resources from more pressing needs such as healthcare and education.

“If you’re on the outside looking in, there is this false sense that everyone who works in Hollywood has to be rich whether you’re crew or not,” said Amy Baer, a producer and former Sony executive who now runs Artists Equity, Ben Affleck and Matt Damon’s production company.

As production losses mounted in L.A., a coalition of labor and industry groups lobbied then governor and actor Arnold Schwarzenegger to take action.

Schwarzenegger, a longtime champion of tax credits, was able to get a program passed as part of an economic stimulus provision of the state’s 2009 budget. It was dubbed “The Ugly Betty” bill, named after the ABC show that had relocated from L.A. to New York.

Though hailed as a significant step, the new film sweeteners had some key limitations. The pool of money was small — capped at $100 million annually over five years. And it couldn’t be applied to offset the cost of actors’ salaries, a key driver of budgets.

In reality, the program was too small and restrictive to compete with a growing crop of rivals that had larger tax breaks and fewer restrictions.

Chief among them was the United Kingdom, which soon began to attract a number of big-budget movies thanks to a hugely popular 25% cash rebate on production expenses, including money spent on actors’ salaries and other above-the-line costs.

In a paradigm-shifting move, Warner Bros. purchased Leavesden Studios outside of London in 2010, investing more than $160 million into the facility. Much of the blockbusters “Wonder Woman” and “Barbie” were filmed there.

Although the California program was tripled to $330 million annually starting in 2014, it did little to halt the continued exodus of film work. Marvel Studios began moving its production operations to Georgia, enticed by the state’s uncapped tax credits that could be used for actors’ salaries. Both “Black Panther” and “Avengers: Infinity War” were filmed largely at Trilith Studios in Fayetteville, Ga. Another historic town east of Atlanta attracted so many movies and TV shows it became known as “Hollywood of the South.” (Last year, Marvel shifted most of its operations to the U.K. in search of even bigger cost savings.)

Marvel Studios, which filmed blockbusters such as “Black Panther” in Georgia, has since shifted operations to the U.K.

(Film Frame / Marvel Studios)

While numerous studio facilities lay empty here, streamers and studios have built major production hubs outside of L.A. Though it still shoots dozens of productions in L.A., Netflix has spent billions to operate production hubs abroad while constructing massive facilities in places like New Jersey and New Mexico.

“Everyone kept saying, if we have more tax credits, then at least we’ll be able to bring production back,” said Monica Levinson, a veteran producer who has worked on FX’s “Love Story” and the movie “Zoolander.” “Well, that didn’t happen. And the crews got better and better out of the country.”

Rising costs

As the rest of the world courted Hollywood, L.A. did little to help itself.

Despite recent improvements to streamline and reduce costs, the city’s film approval system remains a maze of multi-layered permitting, fees and complex logistics, location managers say. The Greater L.A. area has more than 100 jurisdictions, many of which have their own rules, regulations and permitting fees for filming.

Filming in L.A. also has become more expensive compared with other film hubs due in part to higher labor costs and mandatory staffing requirements, such as paid on-set fire safety monitors, and traffic and parking controls.

What’s more, unlike New York, the city doesn’t have its own film commissioner who could advocate for the industry.

An L.A. commissioner would be “somebody that is beating the drum 365 days a year that is not aligned with a special interest other than creating more production in California, which makes our state and our people prosperous,” said Scott Budnick, a producer on the wildly successful “The Hangover” franchise who lobbied for the state’s enhanced film tax credits.

For a time, the loss of market share was masked by a surge in local TV shoots as studios spent heavily to supply content to their new streaming platforms.

But the pandemic and back-to-back strikes by actors and writers roiled the industry. Studios laid off thousands, cut back on films slates and slashed TV spending and it never rebounded. Film incentives became even more critical for those deciding where to shoot.

By the time Gov. Gavin Newsom announced a plan in October 2024 to more than double funding for the film and TV tax credit program, to $750 million annually (closer to New York’s annual allocation of $800 million, although it retained annual caps and doesn’t count actors’ salaries), the industry outlook was bleak.

“I think there was a tipping point between COVID and the strikes that shone a very bright light on the fact that the majority of production had fled the state,” said Baer, the producer.

There are a few bright spots, however.

The critically acclaimed HBO hit medical drama “The Pitt” is filmed almost entirely on the Warner Bros. lot in Burbank, and has injected tens of millions into the local economy while sustaining nearly 1,000 jobs. Two other Emmy-award winning series, Apple TV’s “The Studio” and HBO’s “Hacks,” which just ended, also shot locally.

At Jonathan Nolan‘s urging, Amazon agreed to relocate his post-apocalyptic series “Fallout” to Los Angeles in 2024 after filming its first season in New York, Utah and Namibia. The show received $67 million in California tax credits for its second and third seasons.

Walton Goggins plays the dual role of Cooper Howard and The Ghoul in Amazon’s post-apocalyptic series “Fallout.”

(Courtesy of Prime Video)

“We want to keep shooting here,” Nolan said. “I don’t want to pack my kids off to the back end of beyond just for the privilege of being able to continue doing what I’m doing.”

To build support for the expanded credits, Nolan last year allowed state lawmakers to visit the sets of “Fallout,” including at the Melody Ranch in Santa Clarita.

“I think they were struck by just how big an endeavor this is,” said Nolan, whose brother Christopher is director of “The Odyssey,” (The epic film was shot across Greece, Sicily and several other countries.) “These are hundreds or thousands of jobs on one production alone, hundreds of millions of dollars being put in the local economy.”

Nolan and others in the industry admit the California program is imperfect.

Mayor Karen Bass, who backed the tax credit program in 2009 when she was speaker of the California Assembly, has touted the success of the expanded incentives, saying they’ve created “thousands of good-paying union jobs … right here in Los Angeles, bringing direct investment to our community.”

Since the expanded program went into effect last July, 179 projects have generated $7.2 billion in direct production spending, bringing nearly 38,000 cast and crew jobs to the state, according to the California Film Commission.

“We remain committed to supporting the entertainment industry here and feel optimistic and energized by the response from the community to the program’s modernization and enhancements,” Colleen Bell, the commission’s executive director, said in a statement.

Bass, who is up for reelection, said she would redouble efforts to remove tax credit caps and further reduce film permitting fees “because this industry is core to the history, culture and economic power of Los Angeles.”

The question, however, is whether L.A. is still core to the film industry.

Earlier this year, writer and director Ryan Coogler, who won an Oscar for his “Sinners” screenplay, began filming the pilot for a reboot of “The X-Files.”

During the “Happy Sad Confused” podcast, Coogler called the drama “one of the most beautiful American television shows ever made” and assured fans that while he planned to put his own stamp on the seminal series, his version would pay homage to the original.

“We intend on having both monsters of the week and also the overarching conspiracy,” he said.

And like the original series, it was shot in Vancouver.

For all their vaunted power, superheroes are at the mercy of the people who write them, draw them, play them on the screen, and by extension the producers and executives who decide what should go where and for how much. Sort of powerless, really.

Sometimes this combination of forces works out well for the hero, and sometimes not so much. The Green Lantern, a secondary figure in the DC Comics pantheon, had the ill luck to be trapped in a 2011 Ryan Reynolds film even its director didn’t like. Fifteen years later, he has had the very good fortune to be played by Kyle Chandler, and additionally to star in a television series — “Lanterns,” premiering Sunday on HBO — rather than a theatrical feature, with its investment in noisy set pieces and earth-shaking battles royale.

I’ve often championed the supposedly humbler medium as the best place to tell these stories, with the time to investigate character, in all its shadings and ambiguities, and a haven for concepts too quirky or niche or … conceptual for conservative big-budget theatrical IP exploitation. And here again, I have been proved right.

Creators Damon Lindelof (“Lost,” “Watchmen” and, best of all, “Mrs. Davis”), comic book writer Tom King and Chris Mundy, who wrote for “Criminal Minds,” “Ozark” and “Bloodline” (in which Chandler starred), have expressly looked to television for inspiration — specifically to “True Detective” (on which Mundy worked), with its uncomfortable partnerships, and “Slow Horses” (for its disreputable hero, I guess), with “Slow Horses” director James Hawes helming the first two episodes. (I detect a hint of “Fargo” as well, for its Midwestern plainscape, dark comedy and bigger-than-life yet somehow ordinary characters.)

“I’m a regular person, like you,” Hal Jordan (Chandler) says in a 1996 TV interview that opens the series; indeed, he’s only super powerful by reason of the gear that comes with the job, a human “beat cop” working as part of the Green Lantern Corps, an extraterrestrial galactic peacekeeping organization — the special ring and the lantern-shaped gizmo that charges it. It gives him the ability to fly and to manifest objects at will, most often a protective green bubble, but also a bottle opener and a $10 bill. (There’s a uniform, but for the most part, he leaves it in the closet.)

Watching that interview is young John Stewart (then a Lantern-obsessed child). We’ll meet him again in 2016, played by Aaron Pierre (“The Underground Railroad”), when most of the action takes place, as a former Marine sniper and art student — human talents that will prove useful — assigned to Hal as a “trainee,” ostensibly to provide backup if something happens to him. Hal, after two seemingly successful decades in the job, is unused to the company and suspicious of the arrangement. (“The big blue bosses may think you’re hot s— but you’re just a f—ing substitute teacher.”) He sets John tests that might kill him, if he is not actually trying to kill him. But he’s also the more genial of the two.

Through an agent whose identity the producers are counting as a spoiler — I’m sure I don’t know why — Hal receives a message that there’s hail in Rushville, Neb. (i.e., aliens!), at which point he jets off from the taco stand where he’s happily been signing autographs and posing for selfies, leaving John to fly there on his own, in the usual way, while the Stooges’ “No Fun” plays on the soundtrack.

They arrive, separately, in the aftermath of a high school football game that has left dead bodies on the field. (Hal suspects some sort of alien rumble.) Here we meet Kelly Macdonald, suppressing her Scottish accent as tough but tender Sheriff Kerry, asserting her jurisdictional rights. Hal finds her “something incredible.” (John: “I think she hates your guts.” Hal: “Yeah, but it’s the way she hates them.”) Kerry is married to lawyer Billy Macon (Jason Ritter), whose father, William (Garret Dillahunt), is a local bigwig, with a cowboy militia and a wife, Zoe (Poorna Jagannathan), who possibly not coincidentally meets John in a bar.

At 60, Chandler is arguably more attractive than ever, with the sort of seasoning that served James Garner so well as Jim Rockford, TV’s greatest detective. Five seasons of “Friday Night Lights” have cemented him in the popular consciousness as a preternaturally decent guy, which allows us to excuse Hal’s less creditable moments, or at least to see things through his eyes. Pierre, 32, who competes in Brazilian jiu-jitsu, has the body of a superhero; he plays John wound tight, humorless, grimly ambitious — he grew up letting his father shoot apples off his head to prove his fearlessness, the primary requirement for a Green Lantern — though the character warms up across the course of the season (which also takes place in 2026). The actors are at their best in their scenes together, which the writers make happen even when it seems impossible. (Spoilers, or I’d explain.)

Combining detective work and science fiction is nothing new — see “Sugar,” currently; “The X-Files,” classically. (And there’s an interrogation scene I’m pretty sure nods knowingly to “Blade Runner.”) “Lanterns” isn’t totally free of cliches, which is practically impossible for sci-fi and crime stories anyway, so many have been told over the years, and to some degree that’s just what we come for. But the series is fresh enough in its details and execution, and strong enough in its writing, and so well performed, that it feels quite original.

I watched “Lanterns” without any particular knowledge of the character, who has been around since 1940, and in this particular version since 1959. (I did a little reading afterward.) Happily, the show is not up to its cowl in DC cross-references and crossovers. There are fleeting mentions of Gotham and Metropolis (where Superman works) and Nathan Fillion reprises his bad-hair Green Lantern from the 2025 “Superman” movie (a long story), but “Lanterns” comes equipped with everything you need to know. Bringing in extra mythology wouldn’t make the confusing parts any less confusing, and would just confuse the parts that aren’t confusing at all. Most every character, whichever side they’re on — and it’s not always easy to tell, given that the aliens look exactly like the humans — comes with layers.

Did I ever fully understand what these factions were after, or even what exactly the factions were? Nope. Did it matter? Nope.