Film in Vancouver still has a Vancouver problem
Vancouver’s got a strange relationship with Vancouver on screen. If you’ve spent any time working in this city, you’ve probably noticed this near decade-long issue, but is it ever changing?
The thesis: Film in Vancouver is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. We shoot downtown streets, Gastown brick alleys, the hastings race track, Cypress Mountain, yet you’ll rarely see “Vancouver” on screen. Instead, it’s New York, Chicago, Seattle, even futuristic dystopias- but with Tron most notably wrapping late of last year in 2024, Vancouver finally played a version of itself.
“Vancouver is a production town, not an ideas town.” It’s undenable that the perception of Vancouver is that it’s become a stage, and not a subject. The city excels at delivering infrastructure, experienced crews, and tax-incentivized shoot locations that make large-scale productions operate. However, it rarely originates bold, original storytelling. You can turn a downtown street into New York, Seattle, or a futuristic metropolis in a single day, but that logistical prowess doesn’t always translate into narrative innovation. The city is built to execute other people’s visions efficiently, which means that while Vancouver can make a story look spectacular, it rarely drives the creative spark behind that story itself. Then there’s the perception problem. Vancouver is seen as too polished, too scenic, too recognizable in its “Canadian-ness.” Production designers spend a lot of time hiding mountains, removing local signage, and dressing sets so that no one can accidentally realize they’re in Canada.
I remember one shoot where we were filming a coffee shop scene in a very “Vancouver” part of Kitsilano. The set decorator went through great pains to replace every locally branded coffee cup, move Vancouver-centric flyers off the walls, and even change the skyline visible through the windows. By the time we were done, the coffee shop had lost all sense of place- beautifully designed, but completely unrecognizable as Vancouver. Another time, we shot a chase scene along False Creek. We had to hide the iconic Science World geodesic dome in every shot, even though it was literally part of the natural geography. The director kept joking: “If you see the dome, we’re done. The audience can’t know!”
The ironic part is that Vancouver has such a distinct personality of rainy streets, mountains in the background, unique architecture, but we often spend half the shoot erasing it. Meanwhile, filmmakers in Toronto or Montreal often embrace their city’s quirks on screen. Vancouver’s identity is constantly masked, and that makes it hard for local filmmakers to tell stories that feel distinctly Canadian.
How do we Vancouver exist on screen without breaking production norms? Can we shoot a film that’s unmistakably Vancouver without turning it into a tourism ad? Can we embrace its quirks rather than hide them? I’ve found that audiences respond to authenticity, even when they don’t consciously recognize the city, so letting Vancouver play itself can actually serve your story in subtle, powerful ways.
Vancouver may not want to play itself on screen, but as filmmakers, we can choose to fight, or at least bend, the rules. Next time you’re on set, take a moment to notice the little touches that scream “this is Vancouver” and see how you can weave them into your story. Because sometimes, letting the city speak for itself is the most honest and creatively rewarding choice you can make.
