Almost exactly one year ago, Film Works New Orleans was so busy they didn’t have time to paint the walls of their new digs. On March 31, after less than 2 years in business, the studio closed its doors — another casualty of the recent film tax credit caps.
People are nervous, and rightly so. But it’s easy to forget that the film industry’s scope here reaches into corners you wouldn’t think of, and those corners are suffering as well.
One example is Ricca’s Architectural Sales, a business that’s been operating in New Orleans since its founding by Peter A. Ricca in 1956. For six decades this family-owned company has been selling antique and reproduction architectural salvage. Ricca’s currently operates out of an over 50,000-square-foot space in Mid-City, making it one of the largest businesses of its kind in the South.
The business, however, is hurting.
“When we came back after Katrina it was the film industry that saved us,” says Julie Ricca, store manager and granddaughter of the store’s founder. “In the last 10 years, the industry actually made up, I’d say, about 40 percent of our clientele.”
Ricca says that films turn to her family’s business for decorative hardware, doors, windows and props — all to fit a certain period.
“Our stuff was used on films like ‘Django [Unchained],’ ‘12 Years a Slave,’ and ‘Double Jeopardy,’ along with lots of commercials and recent productions like ‘American Horror Story,’ ‘NCIS: New Orleans’ and ‘Scream Queens,’ she says. “We actually were even on a Ragu commercial recently.”
Ricca says the company is one of only two or three in the area that deal with antique and reproduction hardware, which, though small details, can be important.
“With Tarantino, he’s one that’s really passionate about his sets being period appropriate. We help make that happen.”
Ricca says up until eight to 10 months ago, the shop was typically visited by about six or seven production assistants and art directors every week. “Now we’re lucky if we see one a month,” she says. “The ones we do see are talking about how there’s just not enough positions to go around, and a lot are moving to Atlanta. When they do buy, they’re spending less than they used to. Basically, the incentive to spend here is gone.”
Like everyone else in the industry, the Riccas are in a “wait and see” mode, but as business continues to dwindle, it’s hard to stay patient.
“I don’t understand it,” she says. “I just keep thinking, is it really worth risking a $1 billion industry to try and hold onto $1 million worth of taxes? I’m not a poli-sci major and I’m not in the industry, but I do run a business that’s hurting from all of this, and I think it’s easy to see that something’s wrong here.”
I agree. It is a problem that is easy to see, and incredibly hard to measure. How many businesses did the industry save post-Katrina like Ricca’s? How much has the influx of film professionals raised the prices, and thus property values, of homes in this area? How much has our tourism increased from those looking to see where their favorite show or movie was filmed?
For now, Ricca says she’s starting to feel resigned to the new reality.
“It was great while it lasted,” she says. “Now we just have to go back to how it used to be, which was minimal.
Kimberley Singletary is the managing editor of Biz New Orleans magazine. A 20-year Southern California veteran, she has been surrounded by the film industry for most of her life.
