ATLANTA (AP) — Chris Ratledge used to make as much as $9,500 a week working on film sets around Atlanta. Now, he’s on food stamps.
The 48-year-old digital imaging technician moved from Indiana to Georgia in 2017 as studios — lured by generous tax credits — turned Atlanta into the “Hollywood of the South,”
the backdrop for hundreds of productions like “The Hunger Games,” “Stranger Things” and more than a dozen Marvel blockbusters.Ratledge said the work
was grueling — 70-hour weeks were normal — but the $72-an-hour pay was transformative. “I paid off three years of back taxes in one year, just from the money I made,” says Ratledge, who worked on the Netflix movie “Red Notice,” as well as shows like TBS’ “Miracle Workers” and Starz’s “P-Valley.”
Those times are long gone: Ratledge has worked just four days on set since May 2024.
Instead, he's been working part-time at the front desk of a local tennis center and stringing rackets on the side, trying somehow to support his family of four on $15 an hour without health insurance. His wife, a cancer survivor, has started cleaning houses a few days a week, and they've downsized their rental home. But their $2,000-a-month income hardly even covers their rent, a shortfall that has left Ratledge in debt and deeply depressed.
“All I want for Christmas is for my film career back,” Ratledge wrote on Instagram in December.
After hitting a peak of $4.4 billion in 2022, spending on film and TV production in Georgia has tumbled, reaching just $2.3 billion in the last fiscal year, as total productions dropped from 412 in 2022 to 245 last year. The decline accelerated after the 2023 writers and actors strikes halted productions for months, dealing a blow to an industry still recovering from COVID-19 shutdowns.
“We saw a lot of productions start looking overseas, knowing that they wouldn’t have another work stoppage,” said Lee Thomas, the deputy commissioner of the Georgia Film Office. “We knew that it would be like a reset to the industry ... but it certainly was a bigger, harder fall than we anticipated — and longer.”
Marvel has left Georgia’s market — its last movie filmed there was 2025's “Thunderbolts” — and shifted its massive productions to the United Kingdom, where labor and production costs are cheaper. Streamers like Netflix are also increasingly filming abroad, while producing fewer shows in general. Other states, including California and Texas, have upped incentives to compete with Georgia’s tax credits, which can cover up to 30% of production costs.
Local industry Facebook groups are filled with complaints about a lack of work, with some people griping about well-established veterans taking up the few jobs available, said Monique Younger, an Atlanta costume supervisor. Younger says her work is less than half what it once was, making her “feel a little bit useless.”
Jen Farris, an Atlanta native and longtime location scout, said she used to reject offers because she had too much work. Now, she’s navigating two- or three-month gaps in between projects, forcing her to “watch her pennies.”
“You just pray that you have nested away enough to float a little bit,” she said.
Despite the bleak landscape, Shadowbox Studios, one of metro Atlanta’s largest soundstage operators, is betting on the area's future and has urged local filmmakers and industry leaders to rethink what’s possible.
Shadowbox has been pitching its mammoth spaces to everyone from indie filmmakers to content creators and esports organizers. But it also wants to make sure the city's crew base remains robust.
Atlanta has for years served as the country’s “antidote” to Hollywood blockbusters moving overseas, said Shadowbox COO Mike Mosallam, pointing to the city’s experienced crews, comparatively lower production costs, extensive soundstage space and diverse landscapes. Keeping that talent pipeline strong is key to keeping more productions from leaving, he said.
In November, Shadowbox hosted about 25 Black college students for Backlot Academy, a program launched in 2022 to diversify the ranks of professions where personal connections often determine who gets hired.
Veteran crew members taught the participants how to decipher call sheets, use walkie-talkie lingo and survive 12-hour days on their feet. Participants could enroll for free in a multiweek digital course on the ins and outs of production and get mentorship as they try to book their first gig.
Trainee Julian Williams grew up in Atlanta and watched his city become a playground for Hollywood. One of the “Alvin and the Chipmunks” movies was even filmed on his street. Now a 24-year-old digital media student at Georgia Piedmont Technical College, Williams is determined to break into the industry as a production assistant, with the hope of one day becoming an assistant director.
He's prepared to follow his film dreams wherever they lead, but for now, he’s betting on Atlanta and its collaborative film community.
“People are genuinely helpful and willing to share what they know,” Williams said.
Among those helping Williams and the other trainees was Joseph Jones, a Backlot alumnus who credits Shadowbox with helping him embark on a rewarding career as a production assistant. “It changed my life,” said Jones, 53, who spent years working in hotels but always knew he wanted to work on films.
But Shadowbox officials aren't downplaying reality: The industry is down, especially in Atlanta. On the day of the training, just one of Shadowbox's nine soundstages was booked for a production, said Jeremiah Cullen, director of sales.
Cullen said Shadowbox has been forced to adapt, cutting deals to meet filmmakers' budgets while frequently calling former clients to see how they can fit their needs.
“Hey, we miss you on the lot,” he tells them. “You got anything cooking?”
Ratledge grew up loving movies, too, especially when, as a 9-year-old, he saw his rural Indiana town of Milan immortalized in 1986's “Hoosiers.” He has continued to reach out to his network, but he's ready to move on.
Ratledge said he isn’t looking for a miracle — just one steady TV job that would give him breathing room to stabilize his finances and figure out his next move. A five- or six-month series, he said, would allow him to restore his health insurance, file for bankruptcy and “hit the reset button.”
“I don’t think I’m any different than the people who worked in Detroit when the auto industry collapsed in the '70s and everything went overseas,” he said.
It's a concern even President Donald Trump has weighed in on, calling last year for tariffs aimed at keeping film production in the U.S. — a plan that experts have called vague and impractical.
Thomas, of the Georgia Film Office, said that business is up significantly from the last fiscal year. She partially credits the rebound to a new state law that allows Georgia's tax incentives to apply to more types of productions, including short-form vertical videos and free ad-supported streaming channels like Tubi.
Some Atlanta veterans still see a path forward, including Farris, the location scout. She said too many talented, creative people are in Atlanta for it all to simply fade away.
“People moved their families here. They’re raising children here. This wasn’t just about film,” she said. “It changed our landscape — it brought in brilliant new minds. Artists. Creators. And I really believe Georgia will find a way to foster an entirely new wave of artistic possibility.”
