The film industry has long been a realm of glitz, glamour, and, let’s be honest, a fair bit of nepotism. But just how deep does this favoritism run? A recent presentation by film industry data analyst Stephen Follows at the Locarno Pro industry program has shed some jaw-dropping light on this. Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating is how it challenges our assumptions about meritocracy in an industry often seen as a dream factory.
Follows revealed that a staggering 70% of this century’s top 100 films involved a ‘nepo baby creative’—someone with family ties in the industry. In my opinion, this isn’t just about nepotism in the traditional sense; it’s about access. What many people don’t realize is that growing up in a creative household doesn’t just open doors—it accelerates careers. Follows pointed out that these individuals direct their first feature at 33, compared to 35 for outsiders, and climb the ladder faster. But here’s the kicker: their films aren’t necessarily better or more profitable. If you take a step back and think about it, this raises a deeper question: does talent truly thrive, or is it just about who you know?
What this really suggests is that the industry is rigged in favor of those already inside. Family ties don’t just get you in—they keep you in. This isn’t to say that nepo babies lack talent, but it’s hard to ignore the systemic advantages they enjoy. From my perspective, this data underscores a broader cultural issue: the film industry, for all its talk of diversity and inclusion, remains a closed loop for many.
Another detail that I find especially interesting is Follows’ insight into the role of producers. He found that an experienced producer can make or break a first-time director’s career. Three out of four directors don’t make a second feature, but those who do often credit a seasoned producer. This highlights the unsung power of behind-the-scenes players in shaping careers. It’s a reminder that success in film isn’t just about the director’s vision—it’s about the team they assemble.
Follows also touched on the impact of film school, which he described as an ‘accelerator ramp.’ Graduates outgross non-graduates, though quality remains the same. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it contrasts with the indie film landscape, where only 3.4% of films turn a profit. If you take a step back and think about it, this disparity reveals the brutal economics of the industry. As Follows put it, ‘a small number gets really all of the riches.’
One thing that immediately stands out is his emphasis on the illusion of control in the film business. Stars, test screenings, franchises—these are all tools to mitigate risk, but they don’t fundamentally change the industry’s unpredictability. Personally, I think this is a wake-up call for anyone chasing Hollywood dreams. The business of film is unpredictable, unknowable, and unfair.
What many people don’t realize is that this unpredictability is baked into the system. Follows likened it to selling window bars in a house prone to earthquakes and Godzilla attacks—it’s not addressing the real risks. His advice? Focus on what you can control: build relationships, create original work, and cultivate a unique perspective. In my opinion, this is sage advice not just for filmmakers, but for anyone navigating a competitive field.
If you take a step back and think about it, Follows’ presentation isn’t just about data—it’s about the human stories behind the numbers. It’s about the aspiring filmmakers who never get their break, the indie producers who pour their hearts into projects that never turn a profit, and the nepo babies who face scrutiny for their family ties. What this really suggests is that the film industry, for all its magic, is a deeply flawed system.
In conclusion, Follows’ findings are a stark reminder of the barriers to entry in the film world. But they also offer a glimmer of hope. By recognizing the systemic challenges, we can work to create a more equitable industry. Personally, I think the real takeaway here is this: talent deserves a chance, regardless of who your parents are. And if the industry wants to thrive, it needs to start opening doors for everyone—not just the privileged few.
