SILVERSCREEN REPORTER

When I scan the entertainment business press, I see the phrase “the great contraction” everywhere. I see the economic pressures mounting: the aftermath of COVID shutdowns, the drain of labor strikes, the wind-down of zero-interest-rate policies, the end of "Peak TV," the rapidly changing competitive streaming landscape, and the unpredictable rise of TikTok. All these factors have conspired to make the ever-perilous path toward a career in feature film and television even more

It is certainly an understatement to say that the creative landscape has never shifted this fast. Currently, intense competition in the arena of AI generative video has brought us the stunning and jaw dropping Google Veo 3 and Open AI's Sora 2, all within the span of six months. The hype is focused on the uncanny cinematic quality of the output: the perfect lighting, the impossible camera moves, and the hyper-realistic look. This technical wizardry has led to headlines screa

The obsession with resolution, bit depth, and sensor size as the defining metrics of professional filmmaking is officially over. A profound, decade-long technological revolution has quietly eroded the distinctions between amateur and professional equipment, shifting the very definition of what constitutes a "cinema camera." Consequently, the quality discussion is now largely a distraction—a relic of a bygone era that no longer holds practical relevance. The future of great vi

I’ll be honest. I’d all but written film off, except for the few rolls that live in my Pen-F and my Mamiya RB67. In the days of the original RED, the Viper and VariCam, sure, video was a compromise. Those Kodak ads made sense. But now shooting a movie or a commercial on an ALEXA Mini shooting in ARRIRAW — I don’t feel that way anymore. The images are great. Better than great — they’re hard to break, and they grade well. And as film has faded from the independent-moviemaking s

At the Cinegear Expo in Los Angeles this year, one thing was glaringly apparent: The professional cinema lighting market had been undergoing a seismic, structural shift and now, it is complete. For decades, the industry was dominated by a handful of legacy European and American brands, whose names were synonymous with quality, reliability, and the very structure of a film set. Today, however, these giants are struggling to maintain relevance against a rapid, disruptive ascent

There has been an unmistakable, almost gravitational shift in human attention. Step into any subway, walk through any park, or glance across any restaurant, and you will see a scattered congregation of individuals gazing downward into the private, glowing world of their phones. Being present is optional. Distraction is the new norm. The pocket-sized screen is now the world’s constant companion, and the data clearly illuminates where the audience is looking. The average Americ

Hollywood has a sequel problem, and it's far more than just a creative rut; it's an existential crisis that threatens to redefine, and perhaps diminish, the very essence of cinematic storytelling. What was once a celebratory continuation of a beloved story has morphed into an industry-wide addiction, a seemingly safe bet that, ironically, is making the entire enterprise riskier. The relentless churn of prequels, sequels, reboots, and expanded universes reflects a profound lac