Texas Throws Millions at Hollywood Dreams While Schools Suffer From Neglect

Lancaster, Texas, just earned a shiny badge as a Film Friendly Texas Certified Community, a designation trumpeted by Governor Greg Abbott as a ticket to economic prosperity. The announcement, draped in promises of jobs and local business growth, paints a rosy picture of Hollywood rolling into town, cameras flashing, and cash registers ringing. But beneath the cinematic allure lies a troubling reality: this program, and the broader push for film incentives, often serves as a glossy distraction from more pressing needs. The celebration in Lancaster feels less like a triumph and more like a gamble with public resources, one that prioritizes fleeting glamour over sustainable progress.

The Texas Film Commission’s initiative, which now boasts over 175 certified communities, markets itself as a catalyst for economic vitality. Leaders like Mayor Clyde C. Hairston frame it as a chance to showcase Lancaster’s 'vibrant culture' and 'cinematic' landscapes, positioning the city as a backdrop for blockbuster dreams. Yet the excitement glosses over a critical question: at what cost does this pursuit of Tinseltown come? For every dollar funneled into luring productions, there’s a dollar not spent on schools, hospitals, or infrastructure, priorities that deliver tangible, lasting benefits to Texans.

Advocates for the program, including state officials, lean heavily on the narrative of job creation and local spending. They conjure images of caterers, carpenters, and hotel clerks bustling to serve film crews. But the evidence tells a different story, one of temporary gigs and overstated returns. The promise of economic transformation through film incentives is a siren song, seductive but deceptive, pulling resources away from investments that could truly uplift communities like Lancaster.

This isn’t about dismissing the arts or the value of storytelling. Creative industries can inspire and unite. But when public funds are at stake, the math has to add up, and the benefits must reach the people who need them most. Texas’ film-friendly fervor, while well-intentioned, risks becoming a misallocation of hope and money, chasing Hollywood’s fleeting spotlight instead of building a brighter future for its residents.

The Texas Film Commission claims its Film Friendly program fuels local economies by connecting communities with media producers. Certified towns like Lancaster gain access to training and a network designed to streamline filming and boost local hires. On paper, it sounds like a win: productions spend on hotels, food, and labor, and communities bask in the glow of cultural recognition. But independent research paints a less dazzling picture. Studies consistently show that film incentives, across Texas and beyond, deliver far less than promised, with returns often as low as 27 cents per dollar spent.

The jobs created by film productions are a sticking point. While state leaders tout employment opportunities, most roles are short-term, lasting only as long as a shoot. Many go to out-of-state professionals, not local workers, leaving communities with little lasting gain. In states like North Carolina and Arizona, audits revealed that film incentives cost more than they generated, prompting rollbacks or outright repeal. Texas, however, doubles down, expanding its network of film-friendly towns without addressing these red flags.

Supporters argue that indirect benefits, like tourism or small business growth, justify the investment. Georgia, for instance, claims a $6.30 return for every dollar in tax credits, citing billions in economic activity. But these figures often come from state-commissioned studies, which critics argue inflate impacts by counting every ripple effect, no matter how tenuous. Independent analyses, free from political pressure, find that benefits skew toward large studios and non-resident workers, leaving local economies with crumbs.

The opportunity cost is staggering. Every dollar spent on film incentives is a dollar not invested in education, where Texas ranks near the bottom nationally in per-pupil funding. It’s a dollar not bolstering healthcare, where millions lack adequate access. These aren’t abstract trade-offs; they’re felt in underfunded classrooms and overcrowded clinics, particularly in communities like Lancaster, where economic hardship is real. The film-friendly push feels like a bait-and-switch, offering temporary glitz while neglecting systemic needs.

Some defend the program by pointing to its cultural value, arguing that film productions amplify local stories and pride. Representative Aicha Davis, for instance, praised Lancaster’s certification as a step toward 'high-quality jobs' and growth. But cultural benefits, while meaningful, don’t justify siphoning public funds into programs with such shaky returns. If the goal is to celebrate Texas’ stories, why not invest directly in local artists, schools, or cultural institutions that nurture creativity year-round, not just when cameras roll?

A more equitable approach would prioritize industries with proven, sustainable impact. Creative sectors, when supported thoughtfully, can drive regional growth. San Diego’s creative industries, for example, contributed $10.8 billion to its economy in 2022, supporting nearly 170,000 jobs. But these gains came from long-term investments in infrastructure, education, and workforce development, not short-term tax breaks for transient productions. Texas could take a similar path, fostering a creative ecosystem that benefits residents consistently, not sporadically.

The Film Friendly program isn’t inherently malicious; it’s simply misguided. Its focus on luring external productions ignores the potential of homegrown talent and businesses. By redirecting resources toward education, job training, and small business support, Texas could build a resilient economy that doesn’t rely on Hollywood’s whims. Communities like Lancaster deserve investments that empower their people, not ones that chase fleeting fame.

Lancaster’s new status as a Film Friendly Texas Community is being sold as a victory, a chance to shine on the global stage. But the real victory would be a Texas that prioritizes its people over photo ops. The state’s obsession with film incentives reflects a broader pattern of chasing flashy wins at the expense of foundational progress. It’s time to rethink this approach, to demand investments that deliver measurable, lasting impact for all Texans, not just a select few.

The path forward lies in policies that uplift communities from the ground up. Fund schools adequately. Expand healthcare access. Support local entrepreneurs and artists who call Texas home. These are the investments that build a state where every resident has a shot at prosperity, not just a cameo in Hollywood’s next blockbuster. Lancaster, and all of Texas, deserves better than a film-friendly facade, it deserves a future that’s truly transformative.