We don't know how it would work. No one knows what it would cost. And it is anyone who can guess if it will ever happen. But in the days that followed that Donald Trump launched the apparently crazy idea to slap the prices on film and television productions of foreign manufacturing, something unexpected began to happen in Hollywood: Befuddlement turned into an approval murmur – at least in certain corners of the industry.
“This is the first time that I have seen this kind of division,” explains Diego Mariscal, a member of the IATSE who directs Crew Stories, a popular online forum for workers below the line. “The people I talk to say,” At least, Trump does something. When did the last time a president even tried? He creates a conversation.
This conversation, like so many people triggered by Trump, sorts on class of suddenly traced class. While the executive class is almost universally opposed to the prices proposed – to qualify them shortly, bad for business and politically not deserted – the crews they use are, at the very least, intrigued. Some applaud squarely.
“These gigantic companies border their pockets by barely cutting the corners, abandoning the American teams and operating tax gaps abroad,” read a joint ardent declaration of the President General of the Teams, Sean O'Brien, and the head of the Teamsters Hollywood Lindsay Dougherty. “While these companies are enriched in the process of fleeing in other countries and playing the system, our members have screwed themselves up. We thank President Trump for boldly supporting good union jobs when others have turned their heads. ”
In other words, Hollywood can still be politically indigo, but on this particular question, the class division becomes more and more difficult to ignore.
Mariscal says that resentment towards studio brass – people who decide where and when a film is running – has not been so raw since the double strike last year. “Even a few years ago, a proposal like this would have been 70% of the ranking. Now? He is divided in the middle.”
To be fair, it is not as if domestic production dies “a very fast death”, as Trump said in his social announcement of truth. But it's not really booming either. Filming instead in Los Angeles dropped 22% in the first quarter of 2025 compared to last year, according to Filmla. Cinema and television employment throughout the state have dropped by around 20% since 2022.
Meanwhile, business is booming in places like London, where Marvel, DC, Mission: Impossible And Star Wars Now install the camp regularly. Thus, while the leaders rush to assess the quantity of their slates to come to be affected, many of the unions under the line were prudently optimistic – or, like teamsters, downright enthusiastic.
SAG-AFTRA, for example, published a statement in particular warm. “We are open to the idea and we are impatient to advance a dialogue to achieve our common goals,” said National Executive Director Duncan Croubtree-Ireland. A surprising level of diplomatic opening for a guild which also represents familiar names like George Clooney and America Ferrera.
As a policy, the prices proposed are always vaporous. No mechanism has been described. No cost estimate has been launched. And the administration has already started to soften part of its language. But as a piece of political theater – which, let's be honest, is Trump's specialty – she has reached her brand. A corner has been motivated, and it divides industry into its socio-economic spine.
“My first reaction to Trump's film price proposal was surprised,” said actress Miki Yamashita. “In the past, I generally considered Trump as a petty and vindictive brute who would revel in the opportunity to take revenge on Hollywood. Instead, he presents this huge concept of foreign production rate to rekindle cinema in the United States, which, I think, shows a shocking level of growth of the characters on his part.”
It can be generous. But Trump's talent for the armament of resentment – in particular class resentment – is well documented. It is a billionaire who is in a way convinced millions of working class voters that he is one of them. In Hollywood, where most of the leaders are from the Ivy League campuses and live in postal codes far from Set Life, this disconnection is now exposed.
“Of course, people would love to shoot in Los Angeles and sleep in their own bed,” said a studio director, “but it's no longer reality – unless an actor or a list of the list insists.”
Part of the problem is California's tax credit system, which only applies to the cost of the line. Other regions – national and international – offer wider discounts that make them much more attractive to producers. California currently offers a tax credit of 20 to 25%. Governor Gavin Newsom recently proposed to extend to 35% and increase the annual pot of $ 330 million to $ 750 million. This could help, said several leaders, but not enough to stem the tide.
The situation has become so dark that Hollywood is now compared to Detroit – an industrial power from time to time which now has trouble reinventing itself.
For the moment, the leadership in the studio seems to be in a defensive squatting, hoping that the whole tariff saga will only blow. Wednesday, the cinematographic association – which represents the main studios and streamers – had not yet issued official comments. But the best executives should snuggle up with the president of AMP, Charles Rivkin, later this week to discuss the next steps.
Will Trump's proposal become a law? Maybe not. But as a decisive cultural test – a flash point in Hollywood's continuous identity crisis – this is surprisingly effective. Another example of how even in the showbiz, the class is now the biggest gap of all.
