As Argentine President Javier Milei continues to cut public spending, his goal is to do so limit State support for local film production has also been unleashed protests from industry. But instead of hampering the domestic film industry, Milei’s reforms could encourage innovation among Argentine filmmakers and lead to a national film boom.
Government intervention reaches every aspect of Argentine culture, from radio and television to music and literature, but nowhere is it more visible than in cinema. Argentina follows the French model of cultural protectionism, in which a government agency takes taxes from the film industry to finance domestic production.
Except for a few countries with large film industries, several nations, especially in Europe AND Latin America– have adopted several variations of the French model, arguing that their domestic markets are not large enough to support private film studios. The appeal of the French model lies in its potential for governments to promote specific values through cinema. It is equally attractive to filmmakers who believe that studio interference and mass-market appeal compromise their artistic visions. Videographer Evan Puschak affirmations the French model “support[s] an independent cinema that is bold in terms of market standards and that cannot find its financial balance without public help.”
But the French model is flawed, and nowhere are these flaws more visible than in Argentina, where the National Institute of Cinema and Audiovisual Arts (INCAA) implements it.
The main problem of INCAA is its fiscal voracity: beyond it 10% cut. of every movie ticket, the institute collects taxes from the entire telecommunications industry. More recently, it has begun seize revenues from streaming platforms. As a result, prices have skyrocketed, making going to the cinema and watching amateur films an unaffordable luxury for many Argentines.
What does INCAA offer taxpayers in return? Very little.
Since its founding, the organization has been plagued by inefficiencies. The one from Argentina cinema law allocates half of INCAA’s revenue exclusively to administrative expenses, leaving the other half for the supposed film production function. But in practice, about 70% of INCAA’s funds end up in the administrative sinkhole as the institute operates at a deficit, relying on subsidies from the national government.
When it comes to film promotion, instead of tying its funding to commercial success, INCAA distributes subsidies without taking audience feedback into account. THE the results speak for themselves: Of the 241 Argentine films released in 2023, fewer than 20 had more than 10,000 admissions in theaters and only three of those made a profit at the box office. Most Argentinians choose to watch foreign productions instead, only about 10% of ticket sales go to domestic films.
Argentine film critic Gustavo Noriega he wrote that “an Argentine filmmaker who does not find success is equivalent to an unproductive public employee”.
The French model has failed to bring innovation and profit to the Argentine film industry. Film journalist Leonardo D’Espósito tells it Reason that Argentine cinema has become “stagnant in a few themes” and “inoffensive, harmless”. Instead, D’Espósito states that filmmakers focus on “superficial, minimal, folkloric incidents.”
But things are changing. By prioritizing Argentina’s socioeconomic emergencies, Milei aims to reduce the state’s footprint in cinema and the arts. While INCAA falls under the Ministry of Human Capital, Milei plans to limit INCAA spending, establish accountability and efficiency criteria, and offer incentives to supplement grants with private investment. Ultimately, these measures have the potential to transform Argentine cinema from a nascent industry to a market full of potential.
“They shouldn’t be afraid of the market,” says Argentine director Ariel Luque Reason, referring to his colleagues. In Argentina, “film schools don’t teach any other financing methods other than INCAA. People tell me they were never taught how to do a market study or how to look for investors.” Luque’s support for Milei has led to hostility within the film community, which he claims has been co-opted “to Gramsciano purposes” of Kirchnerismthe left-wing movement that governed Argentina before Milei.
“Cinema has stopped being a question of audience and has become a question of propaganda,” says Luque. “There is no cinema without an audience… The State as a producer does not work. State intervention in art is always selfish.”
Although skeptical about the withdrawal of state support for cinema, D’Espósito is optimistic about some of Milei’s reforms. “Great works,” he says, are those that show “the ‘local’ touch on universal themes” and can “fascinate other viewers” of different cultures. And these can be translated into other cultures, captivate other viewers,” he said. He is confident that Milei’s changes can lead to a realistic, market-friendly and export-oriented film policy, citing South Korea as a country example.
Milei’s plans do not mean the end of Argentine cinema. Instead, they offer filmmakers the opportunity to showcase their ingenuity and tap into the financial resources available in the global market.