arly boom years was s
imple. The New Mexi
co Fil m Commission's highly successful techniqu
es were being copi
ed by nearly every state in the Union. Most of them spent more--often five to six times more--on promotion. One of the standout Westerns made in New Mexico in the 1980s was The Ballad Of Gregorio Cortez, directed by Robert M. Young and starring Edward James Olmos and James Gammon. A few others that mad
e noise were Silverado, Young
Guns and parts of the classic Lonesome Dove miniseries. According to filmographer Casey St. Charnez, from 1980 through 1997 there were 121 films shot in I New Mexico. The Hi Lo Country, executive produced by Martin Scorsese and directed by Stephen Frears, was one of the last Westerns of the century in
New Mexico cinema. It is a grea
t irony that Hi Lo's genesis was way back in 1960 when I received the call from Sam Peckinpah. When line producer Rudd Simmons first arrived here to look at locations in March of 1996, a terrible drought gripped the real Hi Lo coun
try. The two of us drove m
ore than 2,000 miles on dirt, corrugated roads looking and getting the feel. The Brits came, director Frears, Working Title Films head Tim Bevans (Dead Man Walking, Fargo and many others), Barbara Da Fina, representing producer Scorsese, and screenwriter Walon Green. Helped by chairperson Linda Hutchison's
associates,
Kelly Cosandaey and J.B. Smith, members of New Mexico Film Office, Rudd and I took them on a gut-chugging ride over about a fourth of the miles of our first trip. We had been in contract negotiations for more than a year. For just a moment I f
elt like a
number one, first-class dunce. I was running around here without a signed contract or a single cent in payment. As usual in my brilliance, everyone else but me was being paid. Everyone. That shows both stupidity and blind faith. It worked. They made the picture - a New Mexico book, made in New Mexico, employing hundreds of New Mexicans in the cast, crew and extras. Again careers were started, others advanced. After 38 years of trying, it felt pretty damn good. THE WRA
P WITHOUT BOW KNOTS In
a recent interview I had with ex-Gov. Cargo, he said that a few years back, with the help of others from the film office, they had figured that the state had
benefit Print and film. From simple photo scanning to large 11" x 17" scans, we scan it, retouch it and burn it to CD or DVD.
ed by more than one-and-a-half billion dollars from America's first State Film Commission started 30 years ago. He said he had just read in the New York Times where Mayor Giuliani was throwing enormous resources into luring even more films to New York City. He wonders at the hesitation of those in power spending fortunes on advertising and courting big business to the state when proportionately the film in
dustry tops them all by far. I might add that all told, movies are cleaner, leaving hardly a trace behind after the wrap. They leave only the money and ca
reer advancements here and give enormous free advertising around the world. They also give excitement and fun for decades, some probably as long as there is an operating world. They do not take up huge parts of our precious, rapidly disappearing landscape nor use up and pollute our aquifers. We were first. We were right. The proof is in the rest of America copying our methods of luring filmmakers. New Mexico is a filmmaker's
dream place. With just a little reasoning, our statewide landscape as majestical
ly varied as our people will keep the
