Trigger warning: the text talks about psychological problems and suicide.
Workers in the audiovisual industry have increasingly called for better working conditions in recent years. Several organizations have been established, including the Slovak Documentary Film Association, the Association of Screenwriters in Slovak Audiovisual (ASSA), and Cultural Unions. In the Czech Republic in 2024, several events in the audiovisual industry, such as Daria Kascheeva’s speech at the Czech Lion Award ceremony or the conference at the Hybernská campus, highlighted the shortcomings in social and health security of people in the film industry. The need for change is also confirmed by regular surveys conducted by the British nonprofit organization Film and TV Charity. Since 2019, it has been researching the mental, financial, and social well-being of people working in film and television. According to the 2024 Looking Glass survey, only 12% of respondents considered the film industry a healthy working environment, and more than half considered leaving the sector entirely. The results of the 2019 survey, along with personal experience, motivated Prague-based Danish festival programmer Louise Højgaard Johansen, to establish the Sane Cinema initiative. In November, at the Safe & Sound Film Days event organized by NINJA FILM, she led a panel discussion titled How to Stay Safe and Mentally Healthy Throughout the Entire Filmmaking Process?
What is the price of passion? – this question appeared on one of the slides in her presentation. It was the title of a report by DocuMentality, a British documentary initiative, on the mental health of male and female documentary filmmakers. When we feel passionate for something, its value to us increases. But what do we do when the price we pay for it is our health or our closest relationships? What if, after years, we realize that work has become our entire life and that our colleagues are our only friends? Was it worth it? If we are expected to take on projects out of passion and a sense of deeper purpose, does that mean we must accept being unfairly compensated? How long can enthusiasm sustain us? How many years will pass before it fades? And what is the promise that keeps us trapped in this cycle? Passion doesn’t pay the rent, nor does it pay ever-increasing food prices. The consequence may be something more serious than existential angst about the unsustainable state of work in the film industry. If our situation remains unchanged for too long, we may start to feel trapped – as if our passion, sense of purpose, and countless hours of dedication were not enough. As if we were fooled by the belief that nothing else was necessary for a fulfilling life. At that point, we would have to rethink our entire working life.
At festivals, films and series compete for awards. Winning a competition, as well as having a film screened at a prestigious festival, is considered an achievement. Producer Julie Marková Žáčková mentioned in the panel discussion that she herself is struggling with the meaning of success – does it mean winning an award, or is simply finishing a film enough? Are shiny awards just a distraction from something more fundamental – how we actually live alongside work? After all, even the history of the most watched Oscar award is marked by efforts to suppress the rise of unions.
Working in film and series production is seen as a privilege. Not only because of the glorifying images from the media, but also because this perception is deeply internalized by those within the industry. Just getting into this field requires talent, years of effort, acquired social (and financial) capital, and often a lot of luck. This is probably why it took so long for people to start calling for improvement. In what other job would it be acceptable to work continuously for 15 hours, sleep for a couple of hours and resume your shift early in the morning?
Many of us enter film during college. Even there, we encounter pressure to perform and to network. Julie Marková Žáčková recalled how during her first year of production at FAMU, a kind of competition arose in her class to collaborate with a director who gained a reputation of a genius only because of the young age at which he was admitted to study direction. Such an atmosphere contributes to the anxieties for aspiring male and female filmmakers already at the university, which should be a safe space – a community and educational laboratory for film. Another panelist, director and screenwriter Albert Hospodarsky, in turn pointed out that it is important for him as an emerging filmmaker to start with strong roots and a strong community. That is why he has been working with the same crew he trusts since his first films. Producer Jakub Viktorín from the production company nutprodukcia later emphasized the importance of open discussion. According to him, it is important that a person from the crew who is faced with a problem talks about it and does not keep it to themselves. In this way, unnecessary misunderstandings can be avoided, which sometimes lead to the end of collaborations.
I spoke to Louise Højgaard Johansen about what we can do to help the film industry recover.
It’s a conversation I’ve been having the last few days because of what is happening politically in the world around us. I think people will have to find support in each other, creating smaller communities. I might sound like an activist, but when the system is broken we need to come back to the roots and reconnect with each other. It feels like we lost touch with each other. I don’t believe it’s natural that people are at such extreme poles. And I think the media plays a massive role in that. It’s about coming back together.
I can totally relate to the 5 to 9. That’s how I started in film myself. I was still studying at the university and I already worked for CPH:DOX for a while – watching submissions, writing catalogue entries. Can a life in film be a healthy one? I mean one thing is, can you believe in that? Do you see it as an oxymoron? That’s a question I would like to raise with Sane Cinema, and with the events and setups I do.
There’s not one answer to this – we need to find our own ways. Probably I’m the worst example myself. My work has been my life for many years – up until a certain point when I stopped and started reflecting on my path. I realized that I had never questioned that way of working because I was so happy to work in film, in the field that I studied and which used to be a hobby since my early teens. I think it’s so competitive to get to work in the film industry and we are so happy to be finally doing it. Maybe that is one of the reasons we feel we cannot complain about anything. We are finally there and privileged to be there. I think it’s huge part of the problem.
I had seven freelance jobs at the same time at a certain point. Things happened in my private life and I had to stop and quit at least a few of them because I really had work-related stress at that time. I don’t mind saying that out loud, it might even be useful for someone out there reading this.
I saw the surveys from the UK with extremely alarming results from the British film and TV industry. That became like a mirror in a way. I realized that I’m absolutely not alone with whatever I’m going through. It’s like being overwhelmed with work and not being able to define what is work and life. Not having free time, basically. I started having that conversation with people and realized it was extremely common.
It was also after the lockdown. I started talking to my friends in the film industry and realizing we all need to have this discussion and figure out if we’re doing the right thing for ourselves. Especially after COVID. The Lockdown was kind of an eye-opener on a global scale. The whole topic of work-life balance got another meaning after everyone had the experience of being stuck at home.
I think we should become better at looking at what matters to us. What’s my values? What’s my needs? Maybe I’ve been driven by passion for a long time. And then all of a sudden I run out of passion. What do I do then? Can I work in film anymore? I believe you can. You just need to reevaluate your motivations sometimes. We all change. I think that’s life. It’s healthy to change and grow and learn. And not the least question your relationship with work.
I think to a certain degree – the flexibility, home officing. But there are downsides. There was an aftermath to COVID-19 in the industry, the fact that everything stood still, especially for freelancers. Because no one has your back as a freelancer, you are on your own. If you don’t have the project or you don’t see the next one coming, how are you going to pay your bills? And now the next big challenge for the industry has been the strikes in the US and how they affected all the productions that were usually coming in great amounts to Europe for service production. They still are, but it slowed down. And it has taken much longer to reestablish itself. You really see how interconnected the film world is when a crisis hit.
Awareness, knowledge, and training. Starting to notice each other more. I think there is a limit to how fast people can run and for how long. There is a limit to how much you can squeeze and crunch people and how long their days can be. One thing is to shoot an indie, another thing is to shoot a TV series and run for months, sometimes years. It has an effect on creativity and in the numbers from the UK you also see that people are considering quitting the film industry, in fact more than 60%, because work has such a negative impact on their mental health.
I think it is important that the independent filmmakers are vocal about the issues that they can see in their close environment and communicate it to the stakeholders, the funders. We need to be able to budget with some kind of support in a way that is accepted and normalized. That is one thing. Another step is education and training on the field. Dealing as a manager or a leader with issues like mental health problems on a shoot is a skill set that people don’t necessarily have or feel comfortable with. I think it is important that anyone who has a powerful position in cinema should stand up and talk about this topic, and normalize conversation about the mental aspect of health and safety. When you do production work you know there is something called health and safety measures. We should get to a point where we can add “mental health” to our safety measures, so that it is a normalized part of the package. We are working with creative people and if people are exhausted, haven’t slept enough, or are feeling bullied or harassed, they are not giving their best performance. I think it will show on the films. It should be in our interest to have people who are thriving, working on our productions.
I come out of a unionized context in Denmark. It doesn’t mean we don’t have mental health challenges in the Danish film industry, but unions provide basic standards for people to lean on – they to a certain extent has your back. If you are sick, and cannot shoot for a day, that day is covered for you. I am not here to tell you what will work for you, but I’d like to be part of a conversation about finding some common standards for mental health in the industry. It’s important to have that conversation locally. To try to define together among the industry players what the exact challenges are, in order to target a proper response. This conversation has been missing for years, and so what Sane Cinema has been doing for the past few years is to create safe settings for raising the topic. Here people can share their lived experiences as peers, but also share their best practices. ‘Cause there are film professionals out there who are already setting great examples.
It’s still very new, such communities, but there are some peer support networks out there that are public. In the UK they offer hotlines and online toolkits including mental health risk assessment for your productions free of charge. If you’re a parent you can take a look at Cinemamas, a peer-to-peer platform that organizes events, interview parents about how it’s like to have kids while working in the industry. There is another initiative called DocuMentality; they also do peer-to-peer support groups, run focus groups and they made a report called The Price of Passion. But above all I think it’s important to find your own peers either locally or internationally. If the informal network doesn’t exist, how about starting one – together with someone you feel can relate to your lived experiences.
For productions, there are already best practices in introducing more health and safety skills for the crew and for heads of departments. If we’re running a production, we can start by asking ourselves – are we offering a safe space? Are we offering mechanisms for people to speak out in case something is wrong? Can they go to someone other than the boss? It’s beneficial to have that conversation up front with your team, before going into a production. Maybe this specific production is working around challenging content and could be directly triggering for some. Maybe you are working with children or non-professional actors, or with vulnerable contributors – are you and your team prepared for that? It is important to point out to everyone involved who is the go-to person in case of challenges. Is it in fact the boss or the head of the department, is it the production manager or line producer, is it a trustee appointed among the crew? Who is responsible and is that person prepared for that role? This is all part of risk assessing and creating a conversation in prep where people can become more prepared and confident. Research shows that what matters the most to people and people’s performance is that they feel psychologically safe. It’s a key value to any gathering of people at any workplace, that people can safely express themselves. I think that’s one of the keys to a healthier production too.
Proofreading: Zuzana Hrivňáková
source: NINJA FILM, author: Šimon Lupták
Trigger warning: the text talks about psychological problems and suicide.
Workers in the audiovisual industry have increasingly called for better working conditions in recent years. Several organizations have been established, including the Slovak Documentary Film Association, the Association of Screenwriters in Slovak Audiovisual (ASSA), and Cultural Unions. In the Czech Republic in 2024, several events in the audiovisual industry, such as Daria Kascheeva’s speech at the Czech Lion Award ceremony or the conference at the Hybernská campus, highlighted the shortcomings in social and health security of people in the film industry. The need for change is also confirmed by regular surveys conducted by the British nonprofit organization Film and TV Charity. Since 2019, it has been researching the mental, financial, and social well-being of people working in film and television. According to the 2024 Looking Glass survey, only 12% of respondents considered the film industry a healthy working environment, and more than half considered leaving the sector entirely. The results of the 2019 survey, along with personal experience, motivated Prague-based Danish festival programmer Louise Højgaard Johansen, to establish the Sane Cinema initiative. In November, at the Safe & Sound Film Days event organized by NINJA FILM, she led a panel discussion titled How to Stay Safe and Mentally Healthy Throughout the Entire Filmmaking Process?
What is the price of passion? – this question appeared on one of the slides in her presentation. It was the title of a report by DocuMentality, a British documentary initiative, on the mental health of male and female documentary filmmakers. When we feel passionate for something, its value to us increases. But what do we do when the price we pay for it is our health or our closest relationships? What if, after years, we realize that work has become our entire life and that our colleagues are our only friends? Was it worth it? If we are expected to take on projects out of passion and a sense of deeper purpose, does that mean we must accept being unfairly compensated? How long can enthusiasm sustain us? How many years will pass before it fades? And what is the promise that keeps us trapped in this cycle? Passion doesn’t pay the rent, nor does it pay ever-increasing food prices. The consequence may be something more serious than existential angst about the unsustainable state of work in the film industry. If our situation remains unchanged for too long, we may start to feel trapped – as if our passion, sense of purpose, and countless hours of dedication were not enough. As if we were fooled by the belief that nothing else was necessary for a fulfilling life. At that point, we would have to rethink our entire working life.
At festivals, films and series compete for awards. Winning a competition, as well as having a film screened at a prestigious festival, is considered an achievement. Producer Julie Marková Žáčková mentioned in the panel discussion that she herself is struggling with the meaning of success – does it mean winning an award, or is simply finishing a film enough? Are shiny awards just a distraction from something more fundamental – how we actually live alongside work? After all, even the history of the most watched Oscar award is marked by efforts to suppress the rise of unions.
Working in film and series production is seen as a privilege. Not only because of the glorifying images from the media, but also because this perception is deeply internalized by those within the industry. Just getting into this field requires talent, years of effort, acquired social (and financial) capital, and often a lot of luck. This is probably why it took so long for people to start calling for improvement. In what other job would it be acceptable to work continuously for 15 hours, sleep for a couple of hours and resume your shift early in the morning?
Many of us enter film during college. Even there, we encounter pressure to perform and to network. Julie Marková Žáčková recalled how during her first year of production at FAMU, a kind of competition arose in her class to collaborate with a director who gained a reputation of a genius only because of the young age at which he was admitted to study direction. Such an atmosphere contributes to the anxieties for aspiring male and female filmmakers already at the university, which should be a safe space – a community and educational laboratory for film. Another panelist, director and screenwriter Albert Hospodarsky, in turn pointed out that it is important for him as an emerging filmmaker to start with strong roots and a strong community. That is why he has been working with the same crew he trusts since his first films. Producer Jakub Viktorín from the production company nutprodukcia later emphasized the importance of open discussion. According to him, it is important that a person from the crew who is faced with a problem talks about it and does not keep it to themselves. In this way, unnecessary misunderstandings can be avoided, which sometimes lead to the end of collaborations.
I spoke to Louise Højgaard Johansen about what we can do to help the film industry recover.
It’s a conversation I’ve been having the last few days because of what is happening politically in the world around us. I think people will have to find support in each other, creating smaller communities. I might sound like an activist, but when the system is broken we need to come back to the roots and reconnect with each other. It feels like we lost touch with each other. I don’t believe it’s natural that people are at such extreme poles. And I think the media plays a massive role in that. It’s about coming back together.
I can totally relate to the 5 to 9. That’s how I started in film myself. I was still studying at the university and I already worked for CPH:DOX for a while – watching submissions, writing catalogue entries. Can a life in film be a healthy one? I mean one thing is, can you believe in that? Do you see it as an oxymoron? That’s a question I would like to raise with Sane Cinema, and with the events and setups I do.
There’s not one answer to this – we need to find our own ways. Probably I’m the worst example myself. My work has been my life for many years – up until a certain point when I stopped and started reflecting on my path. I realized that I had never questioned that way of working because I was so happy to work in film, in the field that I studied and which used to be a hobby since my early teens. I think it’s so competitive to get to work in the film industry and we are so happy to be finally doing it. Maybe that is one of the reasons we feel we cannot complain about anything. We are finally there and privileged to be there. I think it’s huge part of the problem.
I had seven freelance jobs at the same time at a certain point. Things happened in my private life and I had to stop and quit at least a few of them because I really had work-related stress at that time. I don’t mind saying that out loud, it might even be useful for someone out there reading this.
I saw the surveys from the UK with extremely alarming results from the British film and TV industry. That became like a mirror in a way. I realized that I’m absolutely not alone with whatever I’m going through. It’s like being overwhelmed with work and not being able to define what is work and life. Not having free time, basically. I started having that conversation with people and realized it was extremely common.
It was also after the lockdown. I started talking to my friends in the film industry and realizing we all need to have this discussion and figure out if we’re doing the right thing for ourselves. Especially after COVID. The Lockdown was kind of an eye-opener on a global scale. The whole topic of work-life balance got another meaning after everyone had the experience of being stuck at home.
I think we should become better at looking at what matters to us. What’s my values? What’s my needs? Maybe I’ve been driven by passion for a long time. And then all of a sudden I run out of passion. What do I do then? Can I work in film anymore? I believe you can. You just need to reevaluate your motivations sometimes. We all change. I think that’s life. It’s healthy to change and grow and learn. And not the least question your relationship with work.
I think to a certain degree – the flexibility, home officing. But there are downsides. There was an aftermath to COVID-19 in the industry, the fact that everything stood still, especially for freelancers. Because no one has your back as a freelancer, you are on your own. If you don’t have the project or you don’t see the next one coming, how are you going to pay your bills? And now the next big challenge for the industry has been the strikes in the US and how they affected all the productions that were usually coming in great amounts to Europe for service production. They still are, but it slowed down. And it has taken much longer to reestablish itself. You really see how interconnected the film world is when a crisis hit.
Awareness, knowledge, and training. Starting to notice each other more. I think there is a limit to how fast people can run and for how long. There is a limit to how much you can squeeze and crunch people and how long their days can be. One thing is to shoot an indie, another thing is to shoot a TV series and run for months, sometimes years. It has an effect on creativity and in the numbers from the UK you also see that people are considering quitting the film industry, in fact more than 60%, because work has such a negative impact on their mental health.
I think it is important that the independent filmmakers are vocal about the issues that they can see in their close environment and communicate it to the stakeholders, the funders. We need to be able to budget with some kind of support in a way that is accepted and normalized. That is one thing. Another step is education and training on the field. Dealing as a manager or a leader with issues like mental health problems on a shoot is a skill set that people don’t necessarily have or feel comfortable with. I think it is important that anyone who has a powerful position in cinema should stand up and talk about this topic, and normalize conversation about the mental aspect of health and safety. When you do production work you know there is something called health and safety measures. We should get to a point where we can add “mental health” to our safety measures, so that it is a normalized part of the package. We are working with creative people and if people are exhausted, haven’t slept enough, or are feeling bullied or harassed, they are not giving their best performance. I think it will show on the films. It should be in our interest to have people who are thriving, working on our productions.
I come out of a unionized context in Denmark. It doesn’t mean we don’t have mental health challenges in the Danish film industry, but unions provide basic standards for people to lean on – they to a certain extent has your back. If you are sick, and cannot shoot for a day, that day is covered for you. I am not here to tell you what will work for you, but I’d like to be part of a conversation about finding some common standards for mental health in the industry. It’s important to have that conversation locally. To try to define together among the industry players what the exact challenges are, in order to target a proper response. This conversation has been missing for years, and so what Sane Cinema has been doing for the past few years is to create safe settings for raising the topic. Here people can share their lived experiences as peers, but also share their best practices. ‘Cause there are film professionals out there who are already setting great examples.
It’s still very new, such communities, but there are some peer support networks out there that are public. In the UK they offer hotlines and online toolkits including mental health risk assessment for your productions free of charge. If you’re a parent you can take a look at Cinemamas, a peer-to-peer platform that organizes events, interview parents about how it’s like to have kids while working in the industry. There is another initiative called DocuMentality; they also do peer-to-peer support groups, run focus groups and they made a report called The Price of Passion. But above all I think it’s important to find your own peers either locally or internationally. If the informal network doesn’t exist, how about starting one – together with someone you feel can relate to your lived experiences.
For productions, there are already best practices in introducing more health and safety skills for the crew and for heads of departments. If we’re running a production, we can start by asking ourselves – are we offering a safe space? Are we offering mechanisms for people to speak out in case something is wrong? Can they go to someone other than the boss? It’s beneficial to have that conversation up front with your team, before going into a production. Maybe this specific production is working around challenging content and could be directly triggering for some. Maybe you are working with children or non-professional actors, or with vulnerable contributors – are you and your team prepared for that? It is important to point out to everyone involved who is the go-to person in case of challenges. Is it in fact the boss or the head of the department, is it the production manager or line producer, is it a trustee appointed among the crew? Who is responsible and is that person prepared for that role? This is all part of risk assessing and creating a conversation in prep where people can become more prepared and confident. Research shows that what matters the most to people and people’s performance is that they feel psychologically safe. It’s a key value to any gathering of people at any workplace, that people can safely express themselves. I think that’s one of the keys to a healthier production too.
Proofreading: Zuzana Hrivňáková
source: NINJA FILM, author: Šimon Lupták