Dear Members of IATSE Local 728,

Many of you have asked why this Union election matters and why your vote is important. After hearing this question repeatedly, I felt it was time to address it openly. This isn’t an easy conversation, and I’m not here to make empty promises or sugarcoat the challenges we’re facing. I know many of you are feeling disillusioned—frustrated by the union, by employers, by the government. After dedicating years to this industry, it’s heartbreaking to feel like everything you’ve worked for is slipping away.

I understand how difficult it is to see the future clearly right now. Bills are piling up, job opportunities are scarce, and the security you thought you had in your pension and healthcare feels fragile. The pressures are real, and the path forward isn’t easy. But it’s also not hopeless. There is a path forward, even if it’s not an easy one.

That’s why I’m writing this letter, because this is why I think you should vote.

This election won’t solve everything overnight, but it’s an important step toward rebuilding our union and adapting to the challenges we face. The leaders you elect will have to make difficult decisions, decisions that will impact all of us. The executive board may have to raise dues and could also be faced with drastically modifying or even eliminating the life insurance plan that many of our members rely on. These decisions won’t be easy, and they won’t be made lightly. They are about ensuring our union’s financial stability in the face of unprecedented challenges.

The future of IATSE Local 728 won’t be shaped by decisions 10 years from now; it will be defined by the choices we make in the next 10 months. The actions we take now, the leadership we elect, and the direction we choose will determine our union’s survival and success. These next few months are critical, and we must work together to lay the foundation for a future where our union and its members can thrive.

We also have to face the reality that we’re unlikely to see a year like 2018 or 2019 in the foreseeable future. The industry has changed, and production may only increase by 15% over the next year. For many of our members, that won’t be enough to regain the stability they once had. But that doesn’t mean we’re out of options. It means we need to think differently and adapt.

We need to explore retraining, certifications, and acquiring new skills to remain competitive in this evolving industry. Some of us may even find opportunities to expand into other fields, using the expertise we already have. We are logistics experts, skilled problem solvers, and project managers who can take an idea, budget it, create a plan, and implement that plan. Our best boys, rigging gaffers, and gaffers are not just technical experts—they are leaders. Our systems techs have the potential to become Cloud Network Engineers and Network Administrators. Our fixture crews are fine-tooled engineers, and there’s a massive industry across the country in need of their skills. Set lighting technicians are electricians who, with the right certifications, can apply their skills beyond the set.

Many of you already have skills you may not fully recognize yet, skills that are highly valuable across a wide range of industries. With the right training, the possibilities are endless. We are a workforce with abilities that transcend the entertainment industry, and the union can help facilitate opportunities for growth. But we need your input to know where to focus our efforts.

This union changed my life. Everything I have today, I owe to this local and to the members who believed in me, giving me opportunities I never thought possible. The gaffers who gave me a shot, the teams who hired me back, these moments shaped my career. I remember the relief of not stressing over student loans or rent after receiving my first union paycheck. I remember being able to buy something as simple as a TV and finally believing that maybe, one day, I could afford to buy a home.

But over the last two years, those feelings of security have faded, and I know many of you are feeling the same way. I can’t imagine how tough it must be for those of you who have been in this business even longer, watching everything you’ve worked for seem to unravel. But I want you to know, you’re not alone. We’re in this together. The challenges we face as an industry are real, but so is our collective strength.

We may not have all the answers right now, but we have the power to find solutions, together. This local isn’t flush with cash, but we are still the biggest player in your life right now. We have more political power and influence than any other entity in your corner. It’s time to harness our collective influence to support one another, whether through negotiating with lenders, pursuing retraining opportunities, or finding financial assistance when needed.

If you’re hesitant to ask for help, I understand, I’ve been there too. But you’ve invested thousands of dollars into this local, and you’ve earned the right to ask for help when you need it. None of us saw the bubble coming in 2021 and 2022, and now, this union is all we have. There’s no one else coming to help.

We need to make use of this local, because at the end of the day, you built it. This union exists because of you. If there was ever a time to get back what you’ve invested, it’s now.

Below this letter you’ll find a link to an anonymous Google form. There’s no tracking—just one simple question: What can the local do to make your life better? What can we do to help you keep food on the table, clothes on your kids, and a roof over your head? Do you need help planning for retirement? Do you need retraining or financial advice? We need to hear from you to know how we can best help.

Your vote matters, and it makes a difference. This is your union, built by your labor. IATSE 728 wouldn’t exist without you. Now more than ever, the leadership needs your guidance so they can lead. This union is nothing without its membership, and leadership is nothing without you. The future of Local 728 depends on the choices we make together, let’s ensure it’s a future we can all be proud of.

In solidarity,
David Thomas Graves
Member of IATSE Local 728

GOOGLE FORM

One of the most pressing issues we face today is the rapidly rising cost of our life insurance policy, which is projected to exceed $5 million over the next decade. This cost is unsustainable, and we must explore alternatives to ensure we continue to provide essential death benefits to our membership in a financially responsible manner.

I believe we can achieve the same, if not better, benefits for half the cost by transitioning to a self-funded system. By taking control of our own financial future, we can invest our resources more effectively and establish a model that will serve our membership long-term. This approach begins with an upfront investment and grows into a sustainable non-profit entity, designed to support our members and their families.

This shift not only reduces the financial burden on the union but also opens the door for tax-deductible contributions from members and corporations seeking tax benefits. We need to think beyond traditional methods and take back control of our death benefit program. This is a service the membership wants, and we can deliver it for significantly less while offering our members even greater financial security and peace of mind.

Proposal Overview

The IATSE Local 728 Death Benefit Fund presents a sustainable and cost-effective alternative to the union’s current life insurance policy, designed to provide both immediate financial relief and long-term support for members' families.

Initial Funding:
The fund will be seeded with $500,000, invested in a diversified portfolio of high-yield ETFs, corporate bonds, treasury bonds, and Bitcoin. Additionally, a $100,000 liquid cash reserve will be maintained for immediate payouts, ensuring quick, no-hassle financial support for members' families in times of need.

Key Features

• Payout Structure:

  • Standard Payout: $20,000 upon a member’s passing.

  • Special Payouts: Up to $40,000 for deaths occurring under special circumstances, such as on a worksite or in traumatic conditions.

  • Terminal Illness Payout: A $40,000 payout for members diagnosed with a terminal illness and given less than 12 months to live. This benefit, which the current life insurance policy does not provide, allows members to access financial support while they are still alive, helping with medical, hospice care, and other end-of-life costs.

• Replenishment Mechanism:
  The fund includes a replenishment strategy to ensure the $100,000 cash reserve is always maintained. If the reserve falls below $40,000, funds will be transferred from the investment portfolio to restore it, preventing any delays in payouts.

Financial Advantages

Over 10 years, the Death Benefit Fund is projected to cost between $2.2 million and $2.4 million, compared to the life insurance policy’s estimated cost of $5.18 million to $5.97 million due to annual premium increases. 

Control and Flexibility

Managing the Death Benefit Fund internally gives the union full control over payouts, ensuring benefits are distributed based on the union's specific needs. Structuring the fund as a non-profit also allows for tax-deductible donations from members and outside supporters, reducing the financial burden on the union further.

The IATSE Local 728 Death Benefit Fund provides a more affordable, flexible, and supportive alternative to a traditional life insurance policy. With the inclusion of a $40,000 terminal illness payout and the ability to control payouts internally, this fund ensures that the union can continue to care for its members and their families, providing both immediate financial relief and long-term sustainability.

This motion was introduced to the union before I took office. It was a proposal I co-wrote with Jason Lord, who was a member of the executive board at the time. Unfortunately, the program didn’t gain much traction with the leadership at that point. It was referred to committee for further review, but since then, it hasn’t progressed. While the proposal wasn’t rejected outright, it has remained in limbo, with no meaningful action taken.

I truly believe that this initiative has the potential to provide our members with a just transition into other industries, especially in these uncertain times. It’s time we revisit this motion and take the necessary steps to ensure our union is doing everything it can to support our members in the face of industry changes.

The Labor Action and Preparedness Motion

The Labor Action and Preparedness Motion was a proposal designed to safeguard the employment, healthcare, and financial well-being of IATSE Local 728 members in response to potential labor disruptions. Phase One of this two-phase program aimed to focus on research, development, and the creation of systems that would provide immediate support for members during industry challenges.

Key Goals:

• Employment Transition Support: The Safety and Training Director’s Office would have identified alternative industries where members' skills could be transferred. A comprehensive study was proposed to assess the necessary training, ensuring members could transition into new roles within four weeks of a labor disruption.

• Healthcare Continuity: The Business Representative’s Office would have developed mechanisms for continued healthcare and pension contributions during work stoppages, ensuring members maintained their healthcare benefits.

• Healthcare Extension Loan Program: The Treasurer’s Office would have been directed to create a loan program to provide financial support for healthcare coverage during labor actions, ensuring no member would lose access to essential benefits due to financial hardship.

How This Would Have Benefited Local 728 Members:

• Job Security: By proactively identifying new employment opportunities and facilitating the necessary training, the union would have ensured members remained employed, even if the film industry faced further contraction.

• Financial Protection: The healthcare loan program would have provided a safety net for members, allowing them to maintain continuous healthcare coverage during labor disruptions, preventing financial strain.

• Adaptability and Support: This motion was designed to strengthen the union’s ability to adapt to market changes by offering new services and pathways to alternative industries, providing long-term stability for members.

With a budget of $55,500, Phase One would have established a foundation of research, training, and financial security that would allow Local 728 to respond quickly and effectively to labor actions. It would have enabled the union to implement and scale up these measures when needed, ensuring that its members were protected and empowered to navigate industry uncertainties.

The Labor Action and Preparedness Motion was intended to prepare Local 728 members for the challenges of a rapidly evolving global industry and competition. The motion aimed to equip members with the tools, resources, and financial support necessary to face labor disruptions confidently and securely.

Motion introduced to the Executive Board on January 5, 2024. 

California’s film industry is in trouble, and it’s not just because of high costs or global competition—it’s because our lawmakers and the film industry itself have failed to make the case for why this industry matters. What was once the world’s hub of film production is now hemorrhaging jobs and business to regions and countries that understand the importance of investing in the future of film. And the worst part? Lawmakers are ignoring the exodus, and the film industry hasn’t even bothered to explain to California taxpayers why they should care. We’re losing ground fast, and no one seems to notice.

Let’s start with the obvious: Sacramento refuses to acknowledge the film industry’s true economic value. Time and time again, state officials fail to grasp—or maybe they just don’t care about—the massive ripple effects that film production has on local economies. We’re talking about an industry that pumps billions of dollars into the state, but you wouldn’t know it by the way lawmakers treat it.

Film production isn’t just about actors, directors, and a few camera operators. It’s an economic engine that fuels local businesses. A big-budget production in town means a boost for hotels, restaurants, caterers, transportation services—everyone wins. In states like Louisiana, when a film production comes in and saves a struggling business, it’s front-page news. They get it because they see the direct benefits.

Meanwhile, in California, when a production props up a local mom-and-pop shop, it barely makes the back pages—if it even gets a mention. That’s a failure, not just by our lawmakers, but by the industry too. If Californians don’t know how important these productions are to their own neighborhoods, why would they pressure their representatives to protect it?

Then there’s the multiplier effect, a simple economic concept that California is happy to apply to infrastructure or social programs, but completely ignores when it comes to film. Here’s how it works: every dollar spent on a film production generates several more in related spending—hotels, restaurants, local contractors, you name it.

But Sacramento doesn’t see it that way. Instead, they look at upfront costs and direct jobs, missing the broader impact. Fewer incentives lead to fewer productions, and as those productions leave for places like Canada or Georgia, California loses not just the immediate jobs but the entire economic boost that comes with them. And no one’s hitting the panic button.

But this isn’t just about competition with other states anymore. California isn’t competing against Georgia or New Mexico. It’s competing globally. Countries like Canada, the UK, and New Zealand are playing an entirely different game. They’re not only offering better tax incentives—they’re manipulating their currencies to make it cheaper for U.S. studios to film there.

By devaluing their currencies, countries like Canada make it so that the same U.S. dollars stretch further, and then they throw in generous tax breaks on top of that. Why would a production stay in California when they can shoot the same quality film for half the cost in Vancouver or London? And as this trend continues, the middle-class workers—those who rely on these productions for their livelihoods—are the ones left holding the bag. They’re the ones facing job losses while Sacramento stands by, clueless about how to compete in this new, global battlefield.

As productions leave, so do the jobs. This exodus creates a major labor drain in California. The skilled professionals who have spent years developing their craft—grips, electricians, set designers—are now heading to other markets where work is more plentiful and the cost of living is lower.

The real kicker? The more the labor market tightens in California, the more expensive it becomes to retain top talent. So, production companies looking at those rising costs do the math and realize it’s just not worth it to stay here. They’re better off packing up and moving somewhere cheaper. It’s a downward spiral, and unless Sacramento steps up, California will continue losing not just its productions but its workforce, too.

One of the most frustrating aspects of this situation is the lack of political will to fix it. Politicians make decisions based on what voters care about. And if the public doesn’t understand that film production leaving the state is bad for their local economies, neither will their representatives.

In Louisiana, when a film production saves a local business, everyone knows about it. They see the benefits, and they pressure their lawmakers to protect the industry. Here in California, we have the same thing happening, but it’s not even a blip on the radar. If taxpayers understood that film productions are keeping local businesses alive, they might start pushing their elected officials to take this seriously. But right now, everyone is asleep at the wheel.

And it’s not just major films that are fleeing. Commercial productions are leaving too. Production companies have realized they can trade quality for cost—spending more time and using cheaper labor elsewhere—and still come out ahead. They don’t need California’s high-quality, high-cost labor when they can produce something “good enough” at a fraction of the price in another market.

It’s a simple equation for them: less money, more time, and a finished product that works for their bottom line. California’s once world-class production crews are being left behind because the cost just doesn’t make sense for many companies anymore.

California’s film industry is on the verge of collapse, and the silence from Sacramento is deafening. Lawmakers refuse to apply economic multipliers that would show the true value of film production, and the industry has failed to explain why taxpayers should care. Meanwhile, we’re not just competing against other states anymore—we’re up against entire nations that are using currency manipulation and smart incentives to steal our business. The middle-class film workers are the ones paying the price.

If California wants to remain competitive, if it wants to save the thousands of jobs and billions of dollars that the film industry generates, it’s time to act. Will Sacramento step up and do its job by protecting California’s interests? Or will we watch the industry—and the workers who depend on it—disappear? The clock is ticking, and the stakes couldn’t be higher.

So, here we are. The question on everyone’s mind, both inside and outside the film industry: Why is everything so slow? Ask the union reps, and they’ll say the studios are deliberately contracting the market and caused the strikes by refusing to negotiate in good faith with Hollywood workers. The studios, of course, point their fingers at the economy, the global marketplace, and the labor actions of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA, blaming the workforce for the 30-35% contraction. But as usual, the reality? It’s a lot more complex—and a whole lot messier.

To understand how we got here, we’ve got to rewind a bit. It started with COVID-19 and the so-called “streaming wars.”

Ah, new media—remember that? When it first hit the scene, nobody had any idea how to make money with it. It was like the wild west of content creation. Unions and the AMPTP shook hands and decided on a neat little risk-sharing contract. Studios threw in the cash; we threw in our labor—at a discount, of course, because that’s what you do when someone dangles the promise of the future in front of you. And that’s how we ended up with "medical-only" shows—productions that took care of healthcare but conveniently forgot about pensions. Sacrifices had to be made, right?

Fast forward, and suddenly the streaming revolution exploded like a Michael Bay film. But—as always—the ones who sacrificed got left behind. Studios made sure their shareholders were happy, while the workforce, those of us who poured in labor and pension benefits, got left out in the cold. It’s fine though, right? This set the stage for an animosity showdown that would make any spaghetti western blush.

Then came COVID! The whole industry shut down, but while we were paused, streaming platforms were given a license to print money, and boom, an inflationary bubble was born. People stuck at home were desperate for anything to watch. Streaming platforms had limited content, but demand skyrocketed. So, what do you do when there’s too much demand and not enough supply? You start competing for eyeballs on what little content you’ve got. At the same time, venture capital flooded in, investors foaming at the mouth—"Post-COVID content boom?"

With all that cash flowing into the entertainment industry, it was the perfect storm. Production resumed under COVID protocols, and suddenly, the game wasn’t about ad revenue anymore—it was all about subscriptions. Studios and streamers were green-lighting projects left and right, not to make money, but to keep subscribers hooked. Everyone was playing the direct-to-consumer game, even though none of us really knew what we were doing.

Now, venture capital injections can be a blessing or a curse. The blessing is that innovation can truly revolutionize an industry, but the curse is that venture capital can inflate a market when free-flowing cash isn’t the norm. Take into account the decentralized nature of the film industry, and the curse took over. Streamers and studios inflated the market by inflating consumer expectations, and those inflated expectations created competition that destabilized the market. Before this boom, consumers knew that niche content—stuff with smaller audiences—meant smaller budgets and lower quality. Not anymore. Suddenly, we were getting high-quality shows for the tiniest niche audiences. Why this change to an established and stable market? Because streamers didn’t care about viewership anymore; those metrics no longer mattered. Rather than caring about tried-and-true income methods, they only cared about platform memberships. They weren’t banking on individual show success; it was about getting more subscribers. So studios pumped money into projects they knew wouldn’t be profitable. Sound familiar? It’s like the 2008 housing crisis but with scripts and sets. Just like banks handing out mortgages to people who couldn’t afford them, studios were throwing cash at projects that had no chance of recouping costs—creating an unsustainable market. And just like the housing bubble, it felt like it would go on forever—until it didn’t.

No one rang the alarm bell. Everyone was too busy riding the wave of cash. Healthcare and pension funds got back into the black after the COVID shutdown, workers were paying off debt, and cities like LA were swimming in liquidity. Approaching the contested negotiations between the WGA and the AMPTP, the industry started slowing down, and entertainment workers started feeling it. Many of us heard whispers from rental reps and studio insiders that the party wasn’t going to last forever. Many expected the industry to cool off, maybe a 15-20% contraction, but most thought this contraction would occur over 24 to 36 months. Because of this relatively slow contraction, many expected the market to stabilize. At worst, we thought the workforce was slightly over-expanded, but no one saw it as a ticking time bomb. It was assumed that some people would retire early and others would transition to other industries.

But then came the neutron bomb, and it dropped over not just LA but the entire country: the WGA strike followed by the SAG-AFTRA strike. What could have been a slow, controlled contraction turned into a full-blown shutdown. We went from 80% capacity and manageable unemployment to nearly 100% unemployment overnight. Thirty-five percent of U.S. film industry jobs disappeared in the blink of an eye.

When the strikes ended, many in the industry expected a slow but consistent recovery within a few months. But the industry didn’t bounce back. We were already in a contraction. Recovery dragged on, and a sluggish national and global economy wasn’t helping matters. Until now, the film industry had been relatively recession-proof—people always seemed to find money for movies or cable. But post-strike, combined with an increasingly fragile economy and inflation squeezing household budgets, middle-class Americans began slashing streaming subscriptions. Rising interest rates, increased cost of living, and a struggling economy made sure of that. The disposable income that once fueled entertainment spending was now being rerouted to essentials, leaving the industry reeling from a sharp decline in consumer demand.

Now, some reading this might think, “But the economy is white-hot!” and yes, that’s true, but the stock market doesn’t put food on our tables—jobs do. So sure, on the surface, the economy looks white-hot, but behind the scenes, inflation was rising, and unemployment was creeping up. Just because Bloomberg says the S&P 500 is doing well doesn’t mean everyone’s rolling in cash. In fact, a hot economy tends to create more problems than most people realize. When things heat up, the Fed raises interest rates to cool things down, supposedly curbing middle-class spending. But after 16 years of cheap credit and unprecedentedly low prime rates, people didn’t adjust quickly to higher rates. They kept swiping those credit cards, thinking they could maintain their usual spending habits. But eventually, those monthly payments start to hit home, and reality catches up. Eventually, credit use dipped, higher rates hit hard, and when it was time for families to sit around the kitchen table to make cuts, non-essentials—like streaming—were the first to go. And that’s how we ended up here, in the middle of this mess. The public didn’t downshift as fast as the economy needed them to, and the ripple effect slammed the film industry, along with other non-essential industries. When the economy slows, venture capital starts putting cash away in anticipation of a contraction, meaning that without a guarantee of returns, the money that fueled the boom goes away.

This entire situation, although compounded by various issues affecting the industry, was fueled mainly by one thing: Streamers trained audiences to expect niche content with blockbuster quality, which inflated the bubble. Now, streamers and studios are faced with the challenge of retraining viewers, which means denying audiences new content so they can effectively be retrained. That’s the post-strike slowdown we’re feeling—a calculated move to regain control and ensure these platforms survive.

Now, what does this mean for you, the workers? Union contracts, negotiated during a red-hot economy, were based on inflated metrics that don’t reflect today’s reality, especially post-international market competition. Now, studios are staring down higher labor costs and fewer projects, and in California, an anti-business environment compared to other markets. Meanwhile, countries like Canada are using currency devaluation and tax incentives to lure productions away from California. And it’s working.

So, what do we do? It’s clear production will return to California and U.S. markets, so there will be movies and TV shot in California, but we’re not hitting pre-pandemic levels anytime soon. The workforce is artificially inflated, and the industry can’t support all these jobs. But we’re not doomed. The industry can stabilize, and we can rebuild—if we’re smart about it.

Fixing the Film Industry: The Brutal Truth

Let’s be real—fixing the film industry is going to be messy. We need to face the hard truth: the industry has to shed jobs, and it’s not going to be a slow or gentle process. This isn’t about trimming fat; it’s a serious restructuring of the workforce. Thousands of skilled workers can’t be left out in the cold.

First, we need just transition programs to help film workers move into other industries without totally wrecking their lives. It’s going to take a serious investment, and yes, the bill needs to fall on the streamers and the studios. They inflated the market and created this mess, and they should have known better. Business 101: don’t create a market bubble. We didn’t make the banks pay after the 2008 collapse, and look where that got us. This is a smaller market, and we have a chance to get it right. This was corporate mishandling and a complete refusal to acknowledge market forces within the film industry. The studios and streamers profited from the bubble, so they should bear some responsibility for fixing it. Because as it stands, their bottom lines are still in the black while their workforce is in the red.

We also need to invest in training programs to upskill and reskill workers, helping them transition into new roles, whether in the film industry or elsewhere. Again, this is a program that the employers—aka the studios and streamers—should pay for. This shouldn’t fall on the California or U.S. taxpayers. We should not condone corporate welfare. Thanks to the studios' mismanagement and complete disregard for market dynamics, this isn’t a short-term problem—it’s become a systemic issue. The future of the industry depends on having a dynamic, flexible workforce ready for whatever comes next.

Next, we need to stop other countries from poaching our productions. Right now, places like Canada are using currency manipulation and tax incentives to lure jobs away. To be clear, these countries aren’t using quantitative easing to attract film production; they’re using it to attract American business in general. It just so happens that the film industry has joined the ranks of offshoring companies. So it’s time to get serious about trade agreements that protect American jobs. If we can do it for manufacturing, why not for film production? After all, American movies and TV shows being made by American crews provide more than just economic power—they provide soft power influence over the world’s culture. Our media influences the world, and that power is imperative to ensuring our place on the global stage. Losing that soft power creates a vacuum of cultural influence that will be filled by other film markets, some of which are run by regimes that do not respect freedom and free thought.

And while we’re at it, let’s deal with intellectual property theft. China has been ripping off our content for years, and we’ve done almost nothing about it. The U.S. needs to start penalizing countries and companies that steal our content. This isn’t just about protecting studios—it’s about protecting the jobs tied to that content. We can’t let other countries profit off our hard work while our workers get left behind.

Finally, the film industry needs to get the recognition it deserves for its economic impact. States like Louisiana make headlines when productions boost local economies, but in California? Barely a whisper. We need to change that narrative and show lawmakers how film production fuels innovation, creates jobs, and stimulates local economies. Once people get it, we’ll have the support we need to grow.

The Bottom Line

It’s not going to be easy, and it won’t be painless. But if the film industry, unions, and the government work together, we can rebuild and come out stronger. This isn’t just about saving Hollywood—it’s about saving a key part of the U.S. economy and making sure American films continue to be made by American workers. Let’s get to work.

I am currently working with lawmakers to get this bill into Congress. This is a way that we, as film workers, can fight back and punch above our weight. We are getting support and interest from both sides of the aisle, and this is a no-brainer for both Democrats and Republicans. I am excited to share a basic breakdown with my fellow union members about what I am trying to do while searving as an executive board memmber of this union. 

The Protecting American Film Industry Jobs Act works through several key mechanisms aimed at revitalizing the American film industry and safeguarding jobs. First, the bill introduces a tax on U.S. film companies that produce audiovisual works abroad primarily to exploit weaker foreign currencies. This tax discourages companies from moving production overseas solely for cost savings, ensuring that more films are made domestically. Additionally, the legislation addresses the abuse of foreign tax credits by imposing a hefty penalty tax of 50% on companies and individuals who accept these credits to offset their U.S. taxes. This measure prevents exploitation of international tax systems and encourages companies to reinvest their savings into the American workforce.

To maintain fairness, the bill also includes means testing for foreign income. Companies must certify that more than 50% of their income from a film comes from foreign markets to qualify for exemptions. If it is determined that over 40% of income comes from the U.S. within seven years of a film's release, retroactive taxes will apply, ensuring accountability. The Internal Revenue Service (IRS) will oversee the enforcement of the law, monitoring compliance and working with foreign tax authorities to ensure proper adherence to the new regulations. 

Ultimately, by keeping production jobs in the U.S., the bill supports local economies that rely on the film industry, creating job stability and boosting community growth. This bill is designed to strengthen the domestic film industry by preventing job offshoring, penalizing tax credit abuse, and promoting reinvestment in American workers.