Each time union camera assistant Kelly Simpson hears that successful Hollywood actors and writers have made another big cash donation to their guilds’ emergency strike funds, she feels conflicted.
“That has been so beautiful to watch in the news,” says Simpson. “I believe that everybody deserves to have the light of generosity shine on them right now.”
And yet, she says she hasn’t seen that same level of generosity shining onto film crew members such as grips, gaffers, lamp operators, and script supervisors.
“Where do we go?” asks Simpson.
With the work stoppage well into its fourth month, it’s not just writers and actors losing their homes, trying to pick up side hustles, and struggling with their mental health. It’s also below-the-line workers who are not on strike but can feel like the collateral damage of failed negotiations between billion-dollar studios and writers and actors.
Even Motion Picture & Television Fund (MPTF) President Bob Beitcher raised the alarm with an open letter to the industry on August 17 that reads in part: “As a community we are not doing enough to support the tens of thousands of crew members and others who live paycheck to paycheck and depend on this industry for their livelihood.” Meanwhile, Beitcher points out, WGA and SAG-AFTRA members have donated generously to their own emergency funds, which total around $20 million and $15 million respectively.
Crew unions, International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees (IATSE) and Teamsters, made available $4 million in emergency funds in June for distribution by MPTF, and in July, the fund saw its first surge of crew asking for financial help. Now, says MPTF, the phones ring between 500 and 1,000 times a day, 90% of callers are in critical financial need, and 80% of those calls are from crews.
Crew members have had help from other unions as well. The Entertainment Community Fund, which offers assistance to anyone in the industry, has raised $6.3 million, including donations from WGA members J.J. Abrams and Shonda Rhimes and $1 million from actor Seth McFarlane.
Simpson, whose recent credits include “King Richard” and “Abbott Elementary,” says her union, IATSE, has helped her keep her health insurance at least until November.
Union coverage is tied to the number of hours that union crew members worked in the previous six months, and with the studios pre-emptively slowing down productions, she would otherwise have run out of coverage. If that happens, Simpson says she could elect for COBRA to extend it herself, but it would cost $880 a month – a financial strain.
Simpson has a side business selling camera bags she designed, but sales went dry with the strike. Like most union crew members, she is collecting unemployment: the weekly maximum of $450, not enough to pay rent on her Santa Monica apartment. After working 25 years in the industry, she’s considering all kinds of jobs she would have never taken before: housekeeper, dog walker or personal assistant to a wealthy family.
Simpson says she’s fully supportive of the striking workers, but worries the public doesn’t understand just how devastating the work stoppage has been for crews. “We are supposed to be behind the scenes," says Simpson. “I just don't want to be forgotten.”
These are the kinds of stories that motivated make-up artist Farah Bunch to start a petition in July demanding California increase its maximum weekly unemployment payments. She says it’s not an unreasonable request, given that the state increased payments during the pandemic. The petition has 22,000 signatures, which she shared with Mayor Karen Bass and Governor Gavin Newsom.
“Give us some kind of emergency funding for the strike and some kind of intervention,” says Bunch. “Pay attention. We need help.”
The uncertainty is driving other below-the-line workers to action. Alicia Haverland, a third-generation union member and prop master, hosted a fundraising event for crews in the Burbank parking lot of IATSE Local 80, the union for grips. She formed a nonprofit organization called Drive 4 Solidarity in May, after seeing how quickly some of her friends in the industry were struggling. With the profits from the event, Haverland was able to give small relief cash to 42 people for things like car payments and COBRA health benefits.
Haverland wants the organization to become a permanent resource for the next generation of crews, like her younger sister, who just joined the union. “We are who makes a film,” says Haverland. “We are working blue-collar (union) members.”
Christina Phensy, a union art director, is one of the fortunate few who recently picked up a few days of commercial work after her last job on a scripted show for HBO ended in February. Studios pre-emptively slowed productions down amid strike rumors earlier this year.
Phensy started doing the math, and realized even if a deal is reached tomorrow between striking Hollywood writers and actors and the studios, it could be early 2024 before crews are hired for productions. With dwindling savings, she’s planning to give up her Atwater Village apartment in October to move in with her brother who also lives in LA. “It is a hard time,” says Phensy. “I think this is taking a toll on me and a lot of people.”