The shows must go on: inside Netflix’s race to restart filming
Having won legions of subscribers in lockdown, the streaming giant is working out how to give them something to watch
Spectacles resting on her face mask, art assistant Marta Navarro looks up at the imposing Franco-era statue and fixes a missing blade to its sword hilt, which the hooded angel clasps to its chest like a cross. Nearby on the set of a reimagined Bank of Spain, prop master Miguel Fuster is touching up the matte gold paint of the foyer’s geometric floor, ready to be prowled by the red‑jumpsuited robbers of Netflix’s La casa de papel (Money Heist). It is a June morning in Madrid at the company’s 237,000 sq ft production hub, and the fifth season of Netflix’s most-watched non-English-language series is taking shape.
The show needs a couple more months of pre‑production work before filming starts. But, with a variety of Covid precautions in place, others are already shooting. The superhero caper El Vecino (The Neighbor) started rolling again in Madrid almost two weeks ago, having quarantined its international cast for a fortnight with nothing to eat but Netflix-arranged deliveries. Over in Barcelona, filming on the drug-trafficking drama Hache has resumed, minus two Italian actors who were written out of their remaining scenes to avoid dragging them back to Spain.
And on the Swedish set of Lisa Langseth’s romantic comedy Love & Anarchy, the directors last month even pulled off what would be near impossible in most of Covid-wracked Europe: a screen kiss (albeit with all the spontaneity of two weeks in actor quarantine). Touching lips are a true screen miracle these days. “There were so many brains around the world turning on this,” laughs Kelly Luegenbiehl, who oversees Netflix’s international productions.
Set by set, shot by shot, the global entertainment factory that is Netflix is reawakening from its pandemic slumber. Few big broadcasters or studios shut down faster than the streaming company after the risks of coronavirus became clear. Now, as the industry figures out how to operate in this strange new era, few can match its deep pockets and continent-spanning footprint to restart at scale. By the end of September, Netflix hopes to be back to near normal, with more than 20 dramas filming across Europe and the Middle East alone, including The Witcher, Sex Education and Sky Rojo (Red Sky) from Álex Pina, creator of La casa de papel. Most are supposed to be streaming on screens everywhere next year — that is, if all goes to plan.
For Netflix and the whole production industry — from big-budget Hollywood movies such as Mission: Impossible 7 to broadcasters churning out soap episodes — the pandemic has meant a root-and-branch rethink of how filming is done, actors dress and interact, and all those extra costs can be funded.
James Burstall, chief executive of Argonon, a London-based group of seven independent production companies, describes the lockdown as requiring “the most horrific open heart surgery on ourselves”. The resumption, meanwhile, poses its own peculiar challenges: once-routine crowd scenes and moments of intimacy, let alone complex stunts or fight scenes, all look like a daunting new frontier of risk. The creative integrity of projects conceived in less trying times is on the line.
This sector should, perhaps, be well placed to take the restrictions in its stride. Directors make their names by defying the constraints of physics and everyday life to turn out spectacular, otherworldly visions on screen. Even before the pandemic, Luegenbiehl described production as “a crazy wild beast” that never comes to heel but somehow produces magic.
Netflix’s special privilege is facing this production crunch with what appears to be a humming business model. The tech group epitomises the streaming revolution and has emerged as one of the winners of the lockdown economy. While rivals such as Disney bleed from cinema shutdowns and television broadcasters nurse wounds from the advertising slump, Netflix’s share price is up by a quarter since January. It doubled its subscriber growth targets in the first quarter and, before the year is out, it is expected to pass the 200 million subscriber mark.
Housebound customers have lapped up shows such as Tiger King, a docuseries that drew 64 million viewers and turned a gay, gun-wielding, mulleted zookeeper in Oklahoma into a celebrity on five continents. Shows such as La casa de papel have also been on a tear, seemingly regardless of language. Some 65 million households watched the fourth series when it launched in April, and the iconic red jumpsuits began to appear as far afield as Puerto Rican rap videos and Greek football terraces. “All of a sudden, borders [of culture] were erased, but then also this decades-long Hollywood dominance in English‑language content,” says Diego Ávalos, the Netflix executive overseeing Iberia. “They were no longer the only player in town.”