The Big Screen Pipeline

Across the UK, filmmakers with distinct voices are forging their path from shorts to features, expanding what British cinema can look and feel like. Akinola Davies Jr.’s My Father’s Shadow, Amrou Al-Kadhi’s Layla and Thea Gajić’s Surviving Earth show how short-form or artist-film practice can grow into long-form storytelling that feels both domestic and international. These films prove there is no shortage of talent or ideas, only a need for consistent frameworks to sustain them.

A short film grant or mentoring opportunity can give a filmmaker the space to test ideas, build confidence and connect with peers. The BFI’s intentions in building that national structure were, and remain, good. The NETWORK team across the country continues to work incredibly hard, often with limited resources, to champion filmmakers who might otherwise go unseen. But NETWORK was never designed as a guarantee. Many talented filmmakers were not funded because demand far outstripped capacity, and several have gone on to forge their own routes. The real constant is persistence, community and the stamina to keep going long after the emails stop coming.

The system around emerging filmmakers, though, feels increasingly fragile. Despite the screen sector’s clear contribution to the economy, government policy still tends to see it through the narrow lens of feature co-production and tax relief. These mechanisms bring in inward investment but arguably do little to strengthen regional ecosystems or new independent producers developing British stories from the ground up. The small to mid-scale sector, where most filmmakers begin, remains unstable, with few routes to turn early promise into lasting careers.

And while devolution might sound like progress on paper, it often comes without the industry expertise or long-term vision needed to make creative strategies work. Many local councils are being handed responsibility for “creative industries” without the staffing or sector knowledge to support them. That said, there are pockets of progress spread across the country. The West Midlands Combined Authority has made real strides in growing its screen industries, Liverpool Film Office continues to expand its reach and reputation for catalysing production, and the North East is showing genuine momentum with developments like Northern Studios and Crown Works Studios. But these bright spots are the exception, not the rule. Without a coherent national plan that values the screen sector as both a cultural and economic priority, regional progress will remain uneven and precarious.

One of the biggest gaps in this pipeline lies with producers. Good producers are worth their weight in gold or even saffron. They bridge the gap between creative ambition and practical delivery, ensuring that stories find both the resources and the right collaborators to reach audiences. Yet opportunities for producer development beyond NETWORK, especially outside London are limited, and many find themselves stretched across multiple low-budget projects simply to stay afloat. Writers, too, deserve more attention. Not every filmmaker directs, and we risk losing important voices by tying funding and development too tightly to writer-director models. A sustainable pipeline must recognise the interdependence of directors, writers, producers and creative producers, the people who make the work possible, which should in theory mean tripling the talent development budget.

Part of the problem is how short-term the conversation has become. As Screen International highlighted at this year’s Screen Summit, many UK studios were running at around 60 percent capacity. The broader industry slowdown since the writers’ strike has shown how fragile the system really is. You can’t build a resilient national industry on reports that don't incorporate the intersectional realities of the workforce, regional inequality and the latest intentions of the streamers and distributors.

Commercial success must also be part of the picture. Filmmakers deserve to reach audiences, build sustainable livelihoods and see their work travel internationally. The UK benefits when distinctive voices cross borders, not just as cultural exports but as contributors to global conversations. Yet commercial ambition should not mean conformity. What matters is giving filmmakers the space and security to take creative risks and still pay their rent. That balance, between creative freedom and economic realism, is where meaningful policy should sit.

For filmmakers moving toward features, success is not about clinging to purity or surrendering to market forces. It is about staying recognisable to yourself while navigating a system that does not always reward difference. A balanced ecosystem that sees culture as both a public good and a viable business is perhaps the only way to ensure the UK’s screen pipeline remains not just in traction, but sustainably so.

Until government recognises that equitable creative growth across the UK is an investment, not a luxury, we will keep relying on individual tenacity rather than structural support. And while tenacity has always been a British strength, it should not be the industrial strategy.