Bring the movies home: one fan’s plea for tax incentives

On Sunday, May 25, at just about 9:30 p.m., as the distant bursts of Memorial Day fireworks fused with the hum of laughter, a sudden cheer echoed across Hollywood Forever.

While perhaps unusual at most cemeteries, the Santa Monica Boulevard landmark serves up spontaneous applause annually with its summer screening series Cinespia. It is the ultimate L.A. experience, as patrons sit sprawled on a lawn – just a stone’s throw from Judy Garland, David Lynch and Rudolph Valentino – and take in a cinematic classic.

On this particular evening, the movie was “Clueless,” and the cheer occurred just as the Circus Liquor sign hit the screen. It was the perfect moment for the most Los Angeles of all audiences – an unassuming but long-standing business nestled at the corner of Vineland and Burbank got the biggest ovation of the night.

Since the wildfires in January, I, like so many of my Angeleno brethren, have felt a renewed kinsmanship with the familiar locations that the screen has made famous. As the fight for increased film and television production has revved up, these places – which literally encompass just about every street from the Pacific to Pasadena – are the most beloved parts of our home.

“Clueless” is, of course, one of the best L.A. movies, and like any good Angeleno, I’ll be quick to point out that while numerous authentic Beverly Hills locations are used, parts of Encino and the Occidental College campus supplement the nation’s most elite zip code. That iconic moment with Alicia Silverstone’s revelation in front of the fountain, however, is in the very real Beverly Gardens Park.

That word – iconic – is tough not to throw around when discussing Los Angeles filming locations. My church – Hollywood United Methodist? Look for it in “Back to the Future,” “Sister Act” and “Imitation of Life.” My favorite street – Fountain Avenue? Yeah, it’s where Humphrey Bogart lives in “In a Lonely Place.”

West Hollywood has a true embarrassment of cinematic riches. Who can forget The Formosa’s use in “L.A. Confidential?” Did you know “West Side Story” was filmed in stages on The Lot right next door? Micky’s is in the Jane Fonda thriller “The Morning After.”

Don’t even get me started on Paramount Studios – the most famous gates in the city, cemented in movie-lovers’ minds when Gloria Swanson sailed through them in “Sunset Boulevard.” Of course, if we actually took a trip up to Sunset, we’d have to stop by the Chateau Marmont, where Lady Gaga prepped for the Grammys in “A Star is Born.” We could rollerblade at Venice Beach, where Barbie entered the human world, or check out neighborhoods inhabited by E.T., Michael Myers and that one “Father of the Bride.”

No matter one’s career, the proliferation of L.A.’s proudest and loudest industry has invaded your life, willingly or otherwise. You, too, have been trapped upon the 105-110 interchange as “Another Day of Sun” peeked over that “La La Land” horizon. You’ve felt that ominous need to call one of the “Ghostbusters” at the Millennium Biltmore Hotel. You’ve returned via the same airport as seen in “Airplane!” and “Heat.” You’ve walked across the movies’ most popular names on Hollywood Boulevard, matched your feet against Jimmy Stewart’s and sought out Walt Disney’s booth at the Tam O’Shanter.

It’s all so … iconic.

So often people complain about Los Angeles’ hodge podge identity – the scattershot collection of architectural styles, the irreverence toward history, the lack of urban planning. But amidst all that alleged chaos we have been the backdrop for America, 1920-ish to present. And up until the last decade or so, no matter where our movies trotted off to for location shoots, they always landed back in L.A. Our lots, our sound stages, our houses, our businesses.

When I first moved to the city, close to 15 years ago, I remember learning what the discreet, randomly-placed, little yellow production signs were all about. They always have a curious code word and an arrow, serving as direction for cast and crew heading to filming locations. In 2025, those signs provoke more joy than ever – largely because of their scarcity. The Apple TV+ series “The Studio” sends up the movie business, no-holds-barred, but it also plays as a fantasy – a TV show set in a world where films are always, always shooting in Los Angeles, something far more akin to 1935 or 1995 than to 2025.

The California Legislature will soon be deciding whether or not to raise film and television tax credits to $750 million, an overdue move that is far behind similar incentives passed by Georgia and New York. Without its passage, L.A. may never again be competitive in the business for which it is known. It’s time. Call your state reps. Follow “Stay in LA” on social.

And look around you. Watch movies. Remember these places that have been so intrinsic to establishing the cultural identity of the city, the nation, and the way that the world views itself.

Over a century ago, visionaries – many immigrants – centered an entertainment artform around the vast, diverse backdrops of Southern California in a city where, within an hour’s drive, just about any imaginable landscape was in sight, and where the perennial sunshine and warmth made year-round production possible.

The movies belong to us.

Let’s welcome them back home.

Because, as some girl once said on a soundstage in Culver City, there’s no place like home.