The ancient, sun-drenched city of Cuenca, Spain, played host this week to the ninth edition of Conecta Fiction & Entertainment.
This gathering was ostensibly dedicated to the vibrant trends shaping the global TV and streaming landscape.
Executives from industry titans like Warner Bros. Discovery, Disney, Gaumont Television, and Banijay converged, touting their latest programming and dissecting the industry’s future.
Yet, beneath the veneer of deal-making and content showcases, a distinct, uninvited guest cast a long and unmistakable shadow.
This was the specter of a potential second Donald Trump presidency and its far-reaching implications for international creative industries.
It was a curious undercurrent, a palpable unease that rippled through sessions.
Speakers meticulously avoided uttering the former, and potentially future, U.S. President’s name.
The subtle dance around the elephant in the room was a testament to the profound uncertainty his proposed policies inject into an already volatile global market.
One of the first sessions, provocatively titled “Focus Canada: D.E.I. Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion,” immediately set the tone.
Marina Mathieu, executive director of Coalition M.E.D.I.A., a champion of DEI initiatives, began by clarifying that the panel was not assembled “to annoy a certain president.”
The pointed, if unnamed, reference was unmistakable.
It spoke volumes about the chill that can descend upon progressive policies when a powerful nation’s leadership actively seeks to dismantle them.
For an industry that increasingly prides itself on reflecting global diversity, the potential rollback of DEI mandates in the U.S. sends ripples of concern across borders.
This threatens to undermine a burgeoning global consensus on inclusive storytelling.
It’s a reminder that even domestic political shifts in a major market can have a chilling effect on cultural narratives worldwide.
Later that same day, the conversation shifted from cultural values to economic sovereignty, yet the unnamed influence remained.
Isabelle Degeorges, president and producer at Gaumont Television, spoke passionately about France’s stringent regulations.
These compel U.S. and global streamers to reinvest a minimum of 20 percent of their net French revenue into European works.
Her words resonated with a fierce protectiveness of cultural identity.
“If we don’t own the IP, we lose our identity,” Degeorges declared, a stark warning that cultural output is not merely commerce but a reflection of a nation’s soul.
She went further, articulating a fear that, without such protections, “everything belongs to the U.S., and at the end, it is their identity.”
Her subsequent caution, that the French industry couldn’t afford to be complacent, was delivered with a pointed edge.
“Especially with this new administration in the U.S., because they don’t care.”
The implication was clear: the current U.S. administration, perceived as indifferent or even hostile to international cultural exchange, poses a direct threat.
This threat is aimed at the meticulously crafted frameworks designed to safeguard European creative autonomy.
“We know that our decrees, our French decrees, are not acceptable for them,” she concluded, highlighting a brewing ideological clash over cultural trade.
The economic anxieties deepened during a session on production incentives.
The specter of threatened U.S. tariffs on foreign-made films – a perceived measure to boost domestic American production – hung heavy in the air.
Asked about the potential impact, Ana Marqués, executive director of the Portugal Film Commission, admitted to the prevailing uncertainty.
“We really don’t know what the president of the U.S. is going to implement,” she confessed.
This was a testament to the lack of concrete policy details despite the loud rhetoric.
Portugal’s response, she explained, was to double down on its existing strategy.
This strategy prioritized “diversity, hopefully, cultural exchange, and co-production.”
It’s a pragmatic approach, focusing on building resilient, collaborative networks rather than succumbing to fear.
Victor Lamadrid, general secretary of the Spain Film Commission, echoed this sentiment of cautious vigilance and strategic adaptation.
His commission, he noted, remains in close contact with American production companies, trying to gauge the shifting sands.
Intriguingly, Lamadrid suggested that some of the proposed protectionist measures might, ironically, prove “worse for production companies from the United States.”
This perspective highlights a crucial point: globalized industries are deeply interconnected.
Protectionist walls often end up harming those they are intended to shield.
Spain, too, is actively exploring “new markets, new territories,” a proactive diversification strategy against potential isolationist pressures.
While acknowledging the initial alarm, Lamadrid offered a sliver of hope.
He concluded, “But we don’t think it will be as bad as everything seemed to be when he announced it.
We have nothing real at the moment.”
This blend of cautious optimism and strategic agility defines the European response – preparing for the worst, but not paralyzed by it.
Even in one of the final sessions, the subtle references continued.
Sergio Mendoza, VP of scripted development at NBCUniversal Telemundo Enterprises, spoke of the current political situation and division in the U.S. without delving into specifics.
His observation, however, offered a creative counterpoint to the prevailing anxieties.
“That opens up opportunities to tell certain kinds of stories.”
In a fragmented world, the very divisions that cause economic and cultural friction can also ignite new narratives.
This provides fertile ground for artists to explore the human condition.
Conecta Fiction & Entertainment, then, was more than just a business convention.
It was a fascinating microcosm of the global creative industry’s resilience and adaptability in the face of profound political uncertainty.
Even without a name being uttered, the long shadow of a potential U.S. administration, perceived as isolationist and culturally indifferent, loomed large.
Yet, rather than succumbing to paralysis, the industry’s international players showcased a clear determination.
They aimed to protect their cultural identities, diversify their markets, and continue to foster the cross-border collaborations that are the lifeblood of modern storytelling.
The message from Cuenca was clear: come what may, the show, in all its diverse and global forms, must go on.
