How the Video Production in North Carolina was destroyed

There was a time—not too long ago—when video production in North Carolina was one of the leading players on America’s cinematic stage. From the foggy streets of Wilmington to the rolling Blue Ridge Mountains, the Tar Heel State served as the backdrop for major motion pictures, hit television shows, and the kind of small-town charm that couldn’t be replicated on a soundstage.

The evidence is baked into pop culture history. The Hunger Games, Iron Man 3, Dirty Dancing, Bull Durham, Dawson’s Creek, One Tree Hill, The Conjuring, and Sleeping with the Enemy—all shot here. At its peak in 2012, North Carolina’s film industry brought in over $376 million in direct spending and supported more than 4,000 full-time jobs, according to the North Carolina Department of Commerce.

Wilmington even earned the nickname “Hollywood East.” Soundstages buzzed with energy. Local carpenters were building castle sets by day and catching beach sunsets by night. Extras were being pulled off sidewalks, handed period costumes, and told to look “generically startled” as vampires or FBI agents dashed past.

For a while, it worked. Really well, actually. The state’s 25% refundable tax credit made the video production NC industry extremely attractive to production companies who had their pick of shooting locations across the country. Between natural beauty, seasoned crews, and financial incentives, we were the full package.

North Carolina decided to end the Video Production Industry

A Misguided Rewrite

That year, the state legislature—fueled by a mix of political ideology, budget concerns, and what can only be described as a profound misunderstanding of how film economics work—allowed the film incentive program to expire.

It was replaced with a smaller, nonrefundable grant program capped at $10 million (and later raised to $31 million). The original credit was performance-based: spend money here, and get a percentage of that back. The new system was more like tossing a handful of change into a wishing well and hoping for a Hollywood miracle.

Predictably, the result was immediate and devastating. Film production dried up. Long-running series like Sleepy Hollow moved to Georgia. Crews dispersed. Studios sat empty. According to The Hollywood Reporter, North Carolina went from over 40 active productions in 2013 to just a handful the following year. Jobs were lost. Local economies in places like Wilmington, Charlotte, and Asheville felt the ripple effects.

By the time state leaders realized the depth of the mistake, Georgia had already run off with the prize.

Meanwhile, Just Down I-85…

Georgia, with all the subtlety of a Marvel fight scene, saw the opportunity and went all in. The state offered up to a 30% tax credit—far more aggressive than what North Carolina had ever dreamed of. And they made it permanent. In a business where long-term planning is everything, that kind of reliability is gold.

Hollywood noticed. By 2021, Georgia hosted over 399 film and television productions in a single year, pumping $4 billion in direct spending into the state’s economy, according to the Georgia Department of Economic Development.

It wasn’t just Hallmark movies or indie thrillers, either. Georgia became home to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Black Panther, Avengers: Endgame, Spider-Man: Homecoming—all shot in and around Atlanta. Tyler Perry built an entire studio empire there, complete with a full White House replica. Even The Walking Dead has been wandering around Georgia so long that it’s basically a tourism mascot.

Meanwhile, North Carolina—once the toast of the Eastern seaboard—was left to tell tourists that, yes, The Green Mile was filmed here… back in 1999.

Economic Reality vs. Political Perception

The irony in all of this is that film incentives, when structured well, are not giveaways—they’re economic multipliers. Productions bring crews, equipment, and money into the community. They stay in hotels. They rent cars. They hire caterers. They employ electricians, carpenters, drivers, stylists, animal wranglers, and more. And for every dollar the state returns via a tax credit, it often receives several more in revenue and economic activity.

But in North Carolina, film incentives became a political football. Opponents called them corporate handouts. Others claimed the film industry didn’t provide “real jobs,” despite thousands of North Carolinians building careers in it for decades.

Unfortunately, when you shut the door on film, it’s not just Tom Hanks or Robert Downey Jr. who stay away—it’s the entire ecosystem.

The Culture We Lost

There was something electric about seeing a boom mic dangling over your local coffee shop, or catching your neighbor playing “Man at Bus Stop” on a national network drama. Students in film programs at UNCSA, UNC Wilmington, and other universities could stay in-state and launch careers. High schoolers found inspiration. Local businesses cashed in.

And there was something powerful in knowing that the world was watching stories unfold right here in North Carolina. We didn’t just host Hollywood—we became a part of it.

Could the Video Production NC Spotlight Return?

Possibly. The infrastructure is still here—though much of it is underused. The crews haven’t all disappeared, though many have had to relocate to Georgia or Louisiana to keep working. The state has begun slowly re-investing in its grant program, but it’s still nowhere near competitive with major players.

If North Carolina wants back into the game, it has to play by the rules. That means not only offering incentives that attract productions but showing long-term commitment and understanding that filmmaking is not just art—it’s economic development.

Until then, the streets of Atlanta will keep doubling for New York, the Avengers will keep assembling down south, and North Carolina will remain in the credits only of old DVDs and bittersweet industry articles like this one.

Final Thought

We had the boom. We had the stars. We had the business. And then we gave it away.

North Carolina didn’t just lose the video production industry—it gave it away, gift-wrapped and tax-free, to Georgia. Just like that, the video production NC Industry was gone.

Sources:

• North Carolina Department of Commerce, Film & Entertainment Grant Program Data

• The Hollywood Reporter, “How North Carolina Lost Its Film Industry” (2015)

• Georgia Department of Economic Development, Annual Film Statistics (2021)

• Variety, “Georgia’s Film Industry Keeps Booming While Others Struggle” (2021)

• UNC Wilmington Film Studies Department

• IMDb Production Locations Database