What Now for the Australian Cinema? - James Ricketson continues his series - PRODUCER OFFSET FOR DUMMIES

Editor's Note: This is the fifth in a series of Facebook posts by filmmaker James Ricketson on his hopes for the future directions of the Australian film industry. The previous posts have been reposted on Film Alert 101 and may be found if you click on the links GATEKEEPERS, Comments on GATEKEEPERS, RABBIT PROOF FENCE as Textbook Example and What Are Australian Films For? Now read on
How Australian taxpayers help finance Australian films and why it matters.

We all know that the Australian government provides financial assistance to filmmakers.

Few of us understand how much assistance, where the money comes from, and what taxpayers receive in return.

One of the most important forms of assistance is the Producer Offset.

Despite its bureaucratic name, the principle is simple.

The Australian government gives eligible filmmakers a substantial tax rebate on the money they spend making their films.

For Australian feature films intended for cinema release, that rebate is generally 40%.

Yes, 40%. Quite a lot of money.

How does it work?

Imagine this: you are producing an Australian feature film with a budget of $5 million.

Of that $5 million, you spend $4 million employing Australian actors and technicians, hiring cameras and lighting equipment, renting locations, building sets, editing, recording sound and so on.

The government agrees to reimburse you 40% of that $4 million.

That's $1.6 million of taxpayers' money.

Your $5 million film has effectively cost its financiers $3.4 million, before allowing for financing costs.

Sound like a great deal, right?

It’s not quite that simple, however.

What qualifies for the rebate?

The government doesn't necessarily refund 40% of everything you spend.

It refunds 40% of what is called Qualifying Australian Production Expenditure, or QAPE.

In plain English, this generally means money spent on eligible Australian goods, services and production activities.

Pay an Australian cinematographer? Generally qualifies.

Hire cameras from an Australian equipment company? Generally qualifies.

Employ Australian editors, sound technicians and visual effects artists? Generally qualifies.

Pay a Hollywood star millions of dollars for work performed overseas? Generally doesn't qualify.

There are exceptions and detailed rules, but that's the basic principle.

The rebate is calculated on qualifying expenditure, not necessarily the film's entire budget.

When does the producer receive the money?

The government doesn't simply hand over $1.6 million when you announce that you're making a film.

The rebate is claimed through the tax system after the film has been completed and the necessary certification obtained.

The question arises:

“How can a producer use that money to make the film if it won't arrive until after the film is finished?”

The answer:

The producer can borrow against the anticipated rebate.

A bank or specialist lender advances money on the strength of the expected government payment. When the rebate arrives, the loan is repaid, together with interest and fees.

In brief: the government's promise of future money helps finance the film today.

Who decides what is an Australian film?

Screen Australia administers the Producer Offset certification process.

To qualify, a production generally must satisfy a Significant Australian Content test or qualify as an official international co-production.

Screen Australia takes into account the film's subject matter, where it is made, who makes it and where the money is spent.

A film doesn't necessarily have to tell an Australian story, be set in Australia or feature an entirely Australian cast to qualify for the Offset.

This question arises:

What qualifies as being an Australian film?

Its subject matter? Its writer? Its director? Its actors? Its financiers? Or the nationality of the company that owns it?

As far as I can tell there is no simple answer to this question.

What about Hollywood films made in Australia?

Hollywood productions can also receive substantial assistance from Australian taxpayers, but generally through a different scheme: the Location Offset.

This provides eligible productions with a 30% rebate on qualifying Australian expenditure.

A Hollywood studio can bring an American story, American stars and an American director to Australia, employ Australian crews and use Australian facilities, and receive a substantial tax incentive.

The film doesn't have to be culturally Australian.

THE GREAT GATSBY, for instance.

The government's rationale is largely economic: jobs, investment, infrastructure and business activity.

The Producer Offset, by contrast, is intended to support Australian screen production and Australian creative participation – an important distinction.

Is the Producer Offset a good idea?

There are powerful arguments in its favour.

Making films is expensive and financially risky. The Producer Offset helps Australian producers raise finance, employ skilled workers and compete internationally.

Without it, many (most?) Australian films would struggle to get made.

There are legitimate questions worth asking and discussing:

“Should a film that attracts almost no Australian cinema audience receive the same percentage rebate as one that attracts hundreds of thousands?”

“Should the cultural value of a film matter more than its commercial performance?”

“Should governments distinguish between films primarily intended to create employment, films intended to win international prizes, and films intended to tell Australian stories to Australian audiences?”

“Should taxpayers be entitled to be provided with information about the public money supporting individual productions?”

The Producer Offset helps Australian films get made.

Whether those films achieve their cultural, artistic or commercial objectives are questions that will be explored in a little more detail in my next post.

What Now for the Australian Cinema?- James Ricketson asks What Are Australian Films For? - Fourth in a series.

 Editor's Note: This is the fourth in a series of Facebook posts by filmmaker James Ricketson on his hopes for the future directions of the Australian film industry. The previous posts have been reposted on Film Alert 101 and may be found if you click on the links GATEKEEPERS, Comments on GATEKEEPERS and RABBIT PROOF FENCE as Textbook Example. Now read on

WHAT ARE AUSTRALIAN FILMS FOR?

For discussion, dialogue and debate

What is an Australian film supposed to achieve? And how do we decide whether it has succeeded or failed?

These may seem like obvious questions, but I suspect much of the confusion surrounding Australian film funding arises because we lump films made for quite different purposes into the one category - "Australian film" - and then judge them by criteria that may have little relevance to why they were made in the first place.

Consider six possible objectives for a publicly supported film:

To provide employment and training for Australian film crews.

To attract a large Australian audience.

To win recognition at prestigious international festivals.

To tell a culturally or historically significant Australian story.

To attract international audiences and generate overseas sales.

To encourage emerging filmmakers and help launch their careers.

These objectives are not mutually exclusive. A film may achieve several of them simultaneously.

But they are not interchangeable.

A film about some neglected aspect of Indigenous history, for instance, might be worth making even if relatively few Australians pay to see it in a cinema. Its cultural significance may extend far beyond its theatrical life, through schools, streaming services, archives and future generations.

Conversely, if a film is funded primarily because it is expected to attract a substantial Australian audience, the number of Australians who actually buy tickets is an important measure of its success.

THE DRY is a good example. An Australian novel, adapted by Australian filmmakers, set recognisably in Australia, it attracted large numbers of Australians into cinemas.

Then there are films such as RABBIT PROOF FENCE , which achieved several objectives simultaneously. It told an important Australian story, attracted substantial Australian and international audiences, won numerous awards and contributed to our national conversation about the Stolen Generations.

More than two decades later, we are still discussing it.

How do we measure that kind of cultural success?

And what about films made in Australia that make no pretence of telling Australian stories?

THE GREAT GATSBY, Marvel productions and other international films filmed here bring money into the country, provide employment, develop skills and support studios and infrastructure.

All good things.

But they are not necessarily contributing to Australian cultural expression. Their principal value to Australia is economic rather than cultural. We should recognise that distinction without diminishing their contribution.

The danger, as I argued in an earlier piece, is that Australia becomes primarily a backlot for overseas productions at the expense of making Australian films for Australian audiences.

Another legitimate reason to invest taxpayer money in a film is to support an emerging filmmaker. The film itself may not be commercially successful, but the investment could help launch a writer or director whose work enriches Australian cinema for decades.

My own filmmaking career began with a $300 government grant in 1971. That small investment made possible a first film which opened doors to film school and a career lasting more than half a century.

Would that $300 have been considered a good investment if the film itself had been judged solely by its box-office return?

All of which raises a question:

What are our funding bodies trying to accomplish with the films they fund, and how do we determine afterwards whether they accomplished it?

Three measures of success tend to get tangled together in discussions about Australian cinema.

Cultural success: Does the film contribute something of value to Australian culture?

Critical success: Does it win recognition at Cannes, Venice, Berlin, Toronto or elsewhere?

Commercial success: Do people actually pay to see it?

These measures sometimes overlap. Often they don't. And there are other legitimate measures, including employment, skills development and the nurturing of new talent.

A film can be commercially unsuccessful but culturally important. Another can be a box-office hit without making any significant contribution to Australian culture.

More than half a century ago, the Interim Board of the Australian Film Commission recognised this distinction:

"Some may not become commercially successful ventures, but these may include films which posterity will regard as some of the most significant films made by and for Australians."

Those words seem remarkably prescient.

William Goldman famously observed that "Nobody knows anything."

He was referring to Hollywood's inability to predict which films would succeed. The same uncertainty applies to Australian filmmaking. Every film is a gamble. Some will fail, and the more adventurous we become, the more failures we must be prepared to accept.

But here is where I have a concern.

I believe our funding bodies have become increasingly bureaucratic and risk-averse, favouring projects that satisfy established assessment criteria over unconventional ideas that may look unpromising on paper but have the potential to excite audiences.

I may be wrong. I would welcome arguments to the contrary.

But surely we should be discussing how much creative risk our funding bodies ought to take, rather than assuming that minimising risk is necessarily good policy.

And before we argue about whether Australian films are succeeding or failing, shouldn't we first agree on what we want them to achieve?

If we don't know what success looks like, how can we recognise failure?

At the Milton Theatre on the South Coast of NSW - GUYS AND DOLLS (Frank Loesser, Jo Swerling, Abe Burrows) produced by Milton Follies

Tickets were $38, or $33 concessions if you want to claim them. Freezing cold and spots of rain all the way up the highway from Bawley Point to be there for a 7.00 pm start. Programs $5 and an encouragement to buy raffle tickets for a couple of hampers filled with stuff supplied by local 'sponsors'. Top supporting credits to Ulladulla Ex-Servos and the Mollymook Golf Club, poker machine palaces but probably the only local institutions with any capacity for charitable largesse.

In the auditorium the members of the Save a Soul Mission wander around the aisles helping people find their seats.

Onto the opening "i've got the horse right here" number and the first surprise. Nicely Nicely Johnson, immortalised in the Joseph L Mankiewicz movie version by Stubby Kaye, is played by a female actor (Ebony Millard). This becomes a bit of a trope throughout, no doubt because in Milton/Mollymook/Ulladulla there is more enthusiasm for doing a show from women than men rather than any DEI casting. 

On  with the show and the numbers just roll out...not a dud song in the more than three hours we're in the theatre (including an interval). The Oldest Established, I'll Know, A Bushel and a Peck, Adelaide's Lament, Guys and Dolls, If I Were a Bell, My Time of Day, I've Never Been in Love Before, Take Back Your Mink, More I Cannot Wish You, Luck Be a Lady, Sue Me,Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat (knocked out of the park, as they say by the aforementioned Ebony Millard) and Marry the Man Today. You just have to say the titles to be reminded of just how great this collection of Broadway songs is. And Frank Loesser did all of them, music and lyrics. No one else. I reckon only Sondheim has ever equalled one man's creativity on this show.

The stage seems to have a depth of about fifteen feet. The choreography has to cope with some very limited space but it's OK and the dancers aren't high kickers in the manner  that would get them a spot in the finale of A Chorus Line. Just a joke. 

Fabulous night out...

What Now for the Australian Cinema?- James Ricketson suggests directions (3) - RABBIT PROOF FENCE (Phillip Noyce, 2002) as "textbook example"

Editor's Note: This is the third in a series of Facebook posts by filmmaker James Ricketson on his hopes for the future directions of the Australian film industry. The previous two posts may be found if you click on the links GATEKEEPERS and Comments on GATEKEEPERS. Now read on

RABBIT PROOF FENCE is relevant to the discussion we're having on Facebook. It is a textbook example of an Aussie film, written and directed by Aussies based on an Aussie story for Aussie audiences that appealed also to international audiences.

RABBIT PROOF FENCE cost between $6 and $7 million and more than justified itself at the box office, taking around $15 million worldwide.

RABBIT PROOF FENCE collected an impressive number of Australian awards - the AFI Award for Best Film, Phillip Noyce for Best Director, Christine Olsen for Best Adapted Screenplay. Internationally it won audience awards at Edinburgh, Denver, Calgary, Aspen, Durban and Best Foreign Film at São Paulo.

RABBIT PROOF FENCE is much more than a significant Australian award-winning film that did well at the box office. More importantly, it involved Australian audiences responding emotionally to an intense and quintessentially Australian story.

For many non-Aboriginal Australians the film provided their first direct emotional encounter with what it meant to be a child of the Stolen Generations.

My guess, 24 years after its release, in that more Australians have seen RABBIT PROOF FENCE than had seen any other Australian narrative film dealing with an Aboriginal issue.

RABBIT PROOF FENCE is a story that couldn't simply be relocated to California or England without becoming an entirely different story.

There was controversy, of course, at the time of RABBIT PROOF FENCE’S release. Some conservative commentators and historians challenging aspects of the film's historical representation and the circumstances surrounding Molly Craig's removal. This controversy is itself evidence of the film’s cultural impact. People were arguing about Australian history because of an Australian movie.

Wonderful

RABBIT PROOF FENCE is of historical and cultural importance, will still be viewed in 50 years and be an integral part of Australian film history. It is precisely the sort of film that the founding fathers of our ‘industry’ sought to encourage; a film that “posterity will regard as some of the most significant films made by and for Australians.”

RABBIT PROOF FENCE presents a powerful challenge to a proposition that sometimes seems implicit in Australian film policy: that a film needs to become less specifically Australian to appeal to international audiences.

RABBIT PROOF FENCE suggests the opposite – that its appeal both in Australia and overseas is that it is distinctively Australian

THE CLIVE PARKINSON FILM ENDOWMENT - A GRANT OF $20,000 TO A LUCKY FILMMAKER

 

THE CLIVE PARKINSON FILM ENDOWMENT   The Clive Parkinson Film Endowment offers one grant each year of £10,000 / A$20,000 which is available to filmmakers in Australia and the United Kingdom to produce a film of 30 to 45 minutes duration which the panel considers the best example of a genre of filmmaking bearing witness to the importance of landscape and social environment in people’s lives - themes which infused all of Clive’s best work.  The film can take any form, verite, narrative, experimental, poetic, or anything else which might suit this broad theme, but must be set and produced in Australia or the United Kingdom. The film will be shown simultaneously at the Art Gallery of NSW in Sydney and the Manchester Museum / Whitworth Gallery on or around Clive’s birthday each year, and the artist(s) should also organise a screening for the local community or region represented in the film.   Submissions should comprise a short one-page description, production schedule and working plan of the proposed film, along with links to examples of the filmmaker’s work produced in recent years.    Closing date for the first award will be 25 January 2027 (Clive’s birthday), and the recipient will be announced shortly thereafter.  The film must be locked and ready for screening 12 months later on January 25th the following year.  Closing date for submissions in subsequent years will be on December 31st.   SEND ALL SUBMISSIONS TO THE FOLLOWING ADDRESS info@parkinsonendowment.co.site CLOSING DATE IS 25 JANUARY 2027 WE ENCOURAGE ALL RECIPIENTS OF THIS INFORMATION  TO CIRCULATE THE DETAILS TO ANYONE WHO MIGHT BE INTERESTED Professor Clive Parkinson was a distinguished academic, psychologist, writer and non-commercial photographer and filmmaker who made a huge contribution to the field of Arts For Health around the world.  He was Director of Arts for Health and Reader in Arts, Health and Social Justice at Manchester Metropolitan University until July 2021 when, after 20 years there, he left to explore work which was more amenable to his recent diagnosis of Multiple Myeloma, a bone marrow cancer which he described as an ‘inconsiderate lodger’.   Addressing social inequities has been central to his thinking and practice, and his work has always had a strong focus on mental health and living well across the life-course, regardless of any diagnoses or labels. After leaving school at sixteen with few qualifications, he attended the local art college and began working at a large Victorian hospital for adults with learning disabilities where he established an artists’ studio alongside residents of this closed community. He describes this period as being the most formative in his life, where he learned and grew as an artist alongside the people living in the hospital. During his time there completed a degree in Independent Studies and Visual Art at Lancaster University where his research focused on the relationship between creativity, culture, the arts and health and he subsequently completed research for a Doctor of Philosophy degree. Subsequently employed across the NHS and voluntary sector, in these early years he led mental health promotion for an NHS Trust and managed day services for people affected by schizophrenia in the seaside town of Morecambe. Before taking up a position at Manchester Metropolitan University, he lived in Cornwall and was development director of Arts for Health Cornwall & Isles of Scilly. Once employed in the tertiary education sector, he became closely involved with arts and health developments in the UK, Europe, Australia and Japan and proved central to strategic developments and practical activity in this field over decades. In 2011 he facilitated a series of participatory workshops across the North West UK exploring the impact of the arts on wider society and developing the Manifesto for Arts & Health. Between 2009 and 2023 he wrote a regular blog which garnered a large international readership and offered opportunities to access funding, training and networking, while holding up a critical lens to its own community. Between 2012 and 2018 he was director of the National Alliance for Arts, Health and Wellbeing and was closely involved with the development of an All Party Parliamentary Group on Arts, Health & Wellbeing for which the Alliance provided the secretariat. From its inception, he was the North West regional champion for arts and health in the Culture, Health & Wellbeing Alliance. Clive worked closely with Socialiniai Meno Projektai in Lithuania to develop culturally focused research, advocacy and policy. In the UK, Italy and Turkey he worked with people in recovery, reframing thinking about substance misuse from a cultural perspective. He wrote the Recoverist Manifesto in 2014 after working collectively with people affected by substance misuse and collaborated with the groundbreaking Portraits of Recovery. The Manifesto is available in Dutch, English, Gaelic, Italian, Lithuanian and Turkish. A regular speaker at international conferences, between 2009 and 2016 he supported the development of the Australian Centre for Arts and Health, speaking at their conference regularly. He spoke at MoMA in New York, TATE Liverpool, the V&A in London and the MCA in Sydney, and at numerous international events including conferences and seminars in Japan, Estonia, Ireland, China and Cambodia. In Australia he was keynote speaker at Artlands Dubbo in 2016 and in 2017 he was a commissioned artist at The Big Anxiety Festival. Between 2014 and 2017 he worked in collaboration with Australian artist Vic McEwan on an artists’ residency at Alder Hey Children’s Hospital where he wrote the book Critical Care as a response to McEwan’s practice and the unfolding relationships that took place within the clinical environment. He convened the Manchester Institute for Arts, Health & Social Change (MIAHSC) and in 2019 compiled and published The Manchester Declaration from workshops and conversations with citizens and workers across Greater Manchester - people who are unified in their belief that the arts, in all their forms, offer a collective force for social change. In 2021 he wrote A Social Glue, a report for Greater Manchester Combined Authority which explores the potential of culture and the arts across the city region and setting out some tangible recommendations informing The Greater Manchester Creative Health Strategy published in November 2022. Also in 2022 the University of Manchester made him honorary chair of Creative Health & Social Change. In June 2024 he formally closed MIAHSC. His keynote for the Culture, Health & Wellbeing International Conference 2021 explored his ruminations on power, inequality and sustainability through the experience of his own treatment. Increasingly after his diagnosis - and regardless of a difficult prognosis - he found his curiosity and imagination piqued by the increased awareness of his own mortality.  He met the writer Jenn Ashworth and with her explored the tricky space between nature writing, the cult of wellbeing, friendship and mortality. In July 2025 her new book - The Parallel Path - was published, describing their interactions investigating these subjects.  At the time of his death, he was also exploring an extensive and unpublished archive relating to the writer and artist Denton Welch and was experimenting with found Super 8 home cine film, reimagining the unknown narratives of strangers.   Many of Clive’s short films can be viewed here:  https://cliveparkinson.org/film   There will be a signed agreement between the donors and the recipient confirming the commitment to deliver a finished film by the agreed date. If the recipient fails to deliver the film on time as prescribed, they must repay 50% of the award which may then be awarded to another submission. The committee may not make an award in a given year if they do not receive any submissions deserving of the funds. The grant is awarded to a single project but may be shared between multiple recipients if those recipients are joint producers/co-directors of the film. The use of Artificial Intelligence is not permitted in any aspect of the film’s production, and use of any AI software will result in the immediate forfeit of the grant. Note that if the film incorporates any visual or audio material from another source, the recipient is responsible for all permissions and clearances for the use of that material in the film. With respect to First Nations cultural material, grant applicants will also need to affirm that they will obtain cultural consent from the custodians of any cultural knowledge or material that is portrayed in their film for them to exhibit the film at the screening and into the future. You should be able to request written proof of same at any time. Note also that upon completion of the film, all copyright will be with the artist(s); the Endowment will have no financial interest in whatever life the film may have beyond these initial screenings (we will retain exhibition rights in perpetuity, but if any revenue is realised through exhibition in whatever form by the Endowment, 100% of that revenue will be paid to the artist(s)). NOTE: The views of the Clive Parkinson Film Endowment and film makers are their own and do not reflect the views of the Art Gallery of New South Wales, the NSW Government, or the Manchester Museum.

What Now for the Australian Cinema?- James Ricketson suggests directions (2) - Comments received on GATEKEEPERS and a question for Australian filmmakers, producers and funders.

Poster for Blackfellas (James Ricketson
Australia, 1993)

NOTE: This is the second of a series of pieces composed by filmmaker James Ricketson. The first titled GATEKEEPERS was published here“

James has followed up the piece above with this summary by summarising the comments posted on Facebook following publication.

James  writes: The comments made so far are worth commenting on. They raise more questions than they answer, which was one of the purposes of my original post.

Several filmmakers have contacted me privately to say they agree with lots of what I wrote but don't feel comfortable saying so publicly while they have projects before funding bodies. Whether or not their fear of being blacklisted is justified, the fact that experienced filmmakers feel this way is not healthy. It should be possible to constructively criticise the organisations dispensing public money without fearing that doing so might damage our careers.

One comment raises an excellent question about what we mean by "development". How fully developed must a project already be before it qualifies for development funding? Some films emerge through research, improvisation, workshops and encounters with real people. If applicants must know precisely where the journey will take them before receiving development funding, what exactly is being developed?

Another contributor has reminded me not to romanticise the old face-to-face assessment system. She was rejected from AFTRS partly because two male assessors decided that, as a single mother, she couldn't afford to attend. Human beings bring intuition, imagination and enthusiasm to assessment processes, but they can also bring prejudice, favouritism and unconscious bias.

I am not suggesting that we turn the clock back 50 years. The challenge is to find a hybrid: retaining the fairness and accountability that contemporary assessment procedures are intended to provide while restoring something of the face-to-face human encounters that have been lost.

My own filmmaking career illustrates why I think this matters.

In 1971 I applied for $300 to make my first film. I had no filmmaking experience, no credits and no screenplay — merely a paragraph describing a film I wanted to make with non-professional actors in a retirement home. Two assessors wanted to reject me. The third, Dick Mason, met me, trusted his gut and persuaded the others to take a risk.

That $300 changed my life.

This is also why arguments about whether Young Einstein was a good or bad film miss the point. It wasn't my cup of tea either. But audiences loved it. An assessor's job cannot simply be to ask, "Do I like this?" The more pertinent and difficult question is: "Is there something here that somebody else might love?"

No assessment system can contain a box marked: MAY CAPTURE THE ZEITGEIST THREE YEARS FROM NOW.

Creative funding necessarily involves risk. If we devise assessment systems designed to minimise risk, we shouldn't be surprised when the films that emerge from them are themselves risk-averse.

The question, then, isn't whether we should return to the way things were.

It is: How can we devise a fair and accountable assessment system that still leaves room for eccentricity, intuition, risk, the unconventional filmmaker — and the occasional crazy idea that looks hopeless on paper but comes alive when you meet the person who wants to make it?

I have my own ideas, but I am only one filmmaker. There are many with different ideas to my own.

For discussion, dialogue and debate.

What Now for the Australian Cinema?- James Ricketson suggests directions (1) - GATEKEEPERS

James Ricketson

For discussion, dialogue and debate

Would Young Einstein have received development funding if Yahoo Serious had been assessed anonymously by Screen Australia's "industry experts" through an online application form?

Prior to the establishment of Screen Australia in 2008, fledgling filmmakers could meet face-to-face with experienced filmmaker/assessors. I was one of those assessors, working for the Australian Film Commission on short-term contracts for a dozen or so years.

In the early 1980s, an applicant who had never made a film submitted a chaotically written, incoherent, incorrectly formatted, comedy screenplay riddled with typos. We three assessors were unimpressed. There was little in the written proposal to persuade us to take seriously his request for $15,000 to shoot three test scenes for a feature film.

Then Yahoo Serious (above) walked into the room.

He paced up and down, talked up a storm and pitched Young Einstein. His manic energy, eccentricity, self-confidence and zany sense of humour won us over. Whatever the shortcomings of his written application, here was someone worth taking a risk on.

We recommended the AFC fund the test scenes.

The rest is history.

Would a 21st-century Yahoo Serious survive today's assessment processes? Or would s/he receive a form letter of rejection from the GATEKEEPERS?

This question has become more relevant with the arrival of AI. Today, an applicant can use ChatGPT or another AI platform to produce, in an hour, a polished synopsis or treatment that appears to tick every assessment box. The written application may tell us increasingly little about the creative capacities of the human being behind it.

Put that applicant in a room with experienced filmmakers asking intelligent questions and something else becomes possible: a genuine assessment of the person as well as the paperwork.

Both Screen Australia and Screen NSW refer to assessors as "industry experts".

This brings to mind William Goldman's famous observation:

"Nobody knows anything... Not one person in the entire motion picture field knows for a certainty what's going to work. Every time out it's a guess and, if you're lucky, an educated one."

For decades, assessors and applicants met face-to-face. Today assessors remain anonymous and most applicants have no opportunity to pitch their projects or engage in dialogue with the people judging them.

Why?

I have asked Screen Australia and Screen NSW this question multiple times without receiving an answer.

When I asked VicScreen, CEO Caroline Pitcher responded immediately. She argued that assessor confidentiality: "...supports fair, independent and robust decision-making by enabling candid, criteria-based feedback, reducing the risk of lobbying or external pressure, and protecting assessors in what is a small and highly connected industry."

These are arguments worth taking seriously.

But there is another side to the equation.

Does protecting assessors from applicants come at the cost of removing something essential from creative assessment — human engagement?

Can creative potential be reliably assessed without meeting the creator?

In the late 1990s, I was asked by the ABC to meet a young man who had never made a documentary but wanted, as a one-man-band, to film his road-trip travels from Cape Town to Cairo.

On paper, his proposal seemed wildly ambitious. Should the ABC take the risk?

I met him. Face-to-face he quickly convinced me he had the talent, energy and determination to pull it off. It was, in part, a gut judgement.

I recommended that the ABC and Australian Film Commission take the risk.

The resulting series, Africa — Cape Town to Cairo, broadcast on the ABC in 1998, launched the career of Michael Davie, now an internationally respected documentary filmmaker.

During my years assessing for the AFC, I encountered many filmmakers whose talent emerged not through polished applications with all the right boxes ticked, but through direct engagement. Some lacked experience but compensated with passion, intelligence, originality and an unmistakable determination to get their films made.

Instinct matters.

The Hollywood "elevator pitch" exists for a reason.

Filmmaking is not principally a literary activity. Some talented filmmakers struggle to express themselves in written applications. Some are dyslexic, shy or inexperienced. Some communicate much better through images than prose. Some are eccentric. Some may even appear slightly mad.

And some of these people make extraordinary films.

I am not suggesting that every applicant should receive a face-to-face meeting. Clearly that would be impractical. I am asking whether shortlisted applicants should have the opportunity to meet and pitch to experienced filmmaker/assessors before significant funding decisions are made.

There will always be tension between bureaucratic certainty and creative risk-taking. But have we got the balance right?

Great films rarely emerge from bureaucratic certainty. They emerge from talented, unpredictable human beings whose gifts may not be obvious on paper.

My concern is that anonymous assessment, online applications and the proliferation of professional bureaucratic decision-making may make it harder for funding bodies to recognise precisely those filmmakers who don't fit comfortably into predetermined boxes.

Cost is sometimes advanced as an argument against face-to-face assessment.

Screen Australia invests tens of millions of dollars each year in documentary and drama production. Would allocating even a tiny percentage of those funds to pitch sessions for shortlisted applicants really be prohibitively expensive?

The question is not whether the old system was perfect. It wasn't.

Nor am I arguing that gut instinct is infallible. It certainly isn't. Goldman was right: nobody knows anything.

But perhaps acknowledging that uncertainty is precisely why human judgement should remain part of the process.

There are many reasons Australian films struggle to find audiences: limited marketing budgets, short theatrical runs, streaming competition and the difficulty of attracting attention in an overcrowded entertainment landscape.

But another question is worth asking:

Are our assessment and development processes themselves contributing to the problem?

Perhaps anonymous assessment is fairer. Perhaps it is more efficient. Perhaps confidentiality protects assessors from lobbying and pressure. These are legitimate arguments, and I would like to hear them debated.

But I keep returning to the young man with the terrible screenplay who walked into a room more than forty years ago and persuaded three sceptical assessors to take a $15,000 gamble on him.

His name was Yahoo Serious.

Would he get through today's gate?

If the answer is no, perhaps we have a problem worth talking about.

James Ricketson

30 October 2026

Follow James thoughts and commentary on Facebook.