Kirk Shaw understands that the finished film or series that audiences see on screen often hides a far more complex reality: it takes a dedicated team, years of planning, and countless negotiations to get there. International co-productions tend to increase the complexity. What may appear as a seamless piece of entertainment is usually the product of conference calls across multiple time zones, translators working diligently to ensure smooth communication, and producers like me negotiating creative compromises at late hours while managing spreadsheets filled with currency exchange rates. It’s no surprise audiences may think it’s glamorous, considering we take care to keep the chaos behind the screen out of sight.
Development is where the dream begins to take form. Every producer strives for a story that feels rooted in one culture but broad enough to appeal to audiences worldwide. However, what may feel “universal” in one country might not have the same effect elsewhere. I often reflect on Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, which was unapologetically Chinese yet crafted with care to resonate with audiences from New York to Paris. That’s the balance producers aim for—remaining true to the original culture while adapting just enough for global appeal. In my experience, financiers sometimes suggest changes that could alter the story’s essence, with notes like “Make it more humorous for the American market,” or “Remove this character, as she may not resonate in Asia.” It’s a constant challenge between preserving the script’s core and meeting the needs of partners who control the funding.
Rights management introduces another set of complexities. Copyright laws can vary widely across borders, making what seems straightforward in Canada a potential obstacle in Europe or Asia. Casting also presents a challenge. Distributors in Germany may require a Hollywood name for pre-sales, while Chinese backers may seek a star who is widely recognized on local platforms. Sometimes a compromise can be found, but other times, you realize no actor holds the same level of bankability in all territories. I’ve witnessed entire financing deals hinge on whether an actor agreed to remove their sunglasses during a shoot. It sounds trivial, but it highlights just how delicate the process can be.
Co-production treaties often appear appealing on paper. They offer access to subsidies and incentives, but they also come with a hefty bureaucratic checklist: spend X amount locally, hire Y number of nationals, shoot Z amount in a local language. On my China–Canada film Pound of Flesh, the treaty facilitated opportunities, but it also required navigating conflicting input from backers. Ultimately, we delivered two versions of the film—an English-language version for some markets and a longer Mandarin version for others. This is what happens when every partner wants a say in the final product. More partners mean more opinions, and keeping everyone satisfied while still delivering a coherent film becomes an art in itself.
Kirk Shaw understands that finances are always a tightrope to walk. Exchange rates can cause significant issues. I’ve seen budgets unravel overnight due to fluctuations in the Canadian dollar. While hedging strategies exist, they come at a cost and require financial expertise, which is why a producer today must balance creativity, accounting, and a bit of risk-taking. Financing is rarely simple, as it’s usually a mix of subsidies, pre-sales, tax credits, private equity, and sheer determination. Slumdog Millionaire almost faltered because it slipped between the cracks of the UK and Indian funding systems. It was only through Fox Searchlight’s intervention that it made it to the finish line. On one of my Australian co-productions, we spent weeks negotiating who would cover accommodation costs for the North American cast and crew—whether it was Canada or Australia. While it may seem like a minor issue, when you’re flying fifteen people across the world, those “small” details can add up to millions. In the end, we came to an agreement, because everyone shared a desire to complete the movie. But these are the types of challenges producers quietly address daily.
Pre-production is when all those abstract problems you’ve pushed to the future finally become real. Scouting a breathtaking location becomes irrelevant if trucks can’t access it, if permits cost more than your lighting package, or if the government deems the location “culturally sensitive.” Crews also pose their own challenges. Work culture can vary drastically. What a Canadian crew considers normal overtime might be seen as exploitation in Europe. In China, I once observed a Canadian director become frustrated when his Mandarin-speaking translator failed to understand him, leaving the crew confused about the expectations. For the first few days, tensions were high. Gradually, a rhythm developed—the director adjusted, the crew adapted, and by the end, we were able to laugh together. This encapsulates the rhythm of international production: frustration, negotiation, adaptation, and, if you’re fortunate, a breakthrough.
Production itself is where the tension is most immediate. A single mistranslation can delay an entire day of shooting, and cultural etiquette can quickly escalate into drama if not handled properly. Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Babel shot across four countries, and each location required a new set of rules. I’ve found myself in similar situations. Sometimes a translator is needed not just for language but to bridge cultural gaps in work norms. On one set, a potential crisis was averted because we discovered the local team felt disrespected by how the call sheets were presented. Something as simple as a piece of paper can escalate into a major issue if you don’t fully understand the cultural context.
Post-production is no less complex. A film might be shot in one country, edited in another, mixed in a third, and have its VFX done in yet another. Marvel has mastered this approach, outsourcing visual effects to numerous studios worldwide. But managing time zones and securing footage transfers is a considerable challenge. Piracy is a constant threat—one leak and the entire investment could be at risk. Then there’s censorship. I’ve had to deliver films with three different cuts—one for Western audiences, one for Asia, and one “safe” version for the Middle East. At this stage, it’s not about artistic preference; it’s about navigating global business realities.
Finally, there’s distribution. Kirk Shaw explains that this is the part audiences are most familiar with, but by the time the film is distributed, most of the challenges have already been addressed. Each country has its own censorship policies, cultural sensitivities, and market requirements. Bohemian Rhapsody was celebrated globally, yet entire storylines about Freddie Mercury’s sexuality were removed in places like China and Malaysia. Marketing is equally tricky. A poster that works in the U.S. could be considered offensive in Japan, and a trailer that’s witty in Europe might confuse audiences in Brazil. I’ve often had to make numerous versions of my films—different cuts, posters, and taglines. It’s expected now. Without tailoring a film to its specific market, it’s unlikely to find success.
After over 250 movies and seven series, many of which were co-productions, I can confidently say that international filmmaking is a producer’s tightrope walk. It requires a balance of creativity, business acumen, and diplomacy. It’s also a gamble. Each day presents a new challenge—balancing budgets, managing egos, and navigating cultural challenges. But when everything aligns, it’s incredibly rewarding. You witness audiences from various corners of the world connecting with the same story, laughing at the same jokes, or sharing the same emotional moments. That’s the true magic of it all. It’s why we endure sleepless nights and cross-border headaches. Those moments make the hard work worth it, proving that a film or series can tell a story that resonates with everyone.
