At first glance, Barcelona’s documentary-making scene may seem tangled, opaque and characterised by paradoxes. It’s Spain’s largest filmmaking hub but dwarfed by French and German equivalents; vulnerable to slumps in public funding, but swollen (at least in volume) by the economic crisis; typified by both modest, regionally-focused films and international co-productions.

It is also in flux. At the moment, over half of all Spanish documentaries are made in Barcelona, and the city’s documentary ecosystem—its film festivals, production companies, freelancers, TV programmes, funding bodies and other institutions—outweighs Madrid’s. But the country’s recent financial crisis pushed many involved in filmmaking to breaking point. For individuals this means precarity, working other jobs and the growing attraction of other cities. At the collective level it erodes Barcelona’s competitiveness and production quality.

Cosima Dannoritzer is a German director and co-founder of the Barcelona Documentary Club (its monthly meetings are a key meeting place for the community). She says that unlike France or England, Spain lacks a class of nine-to-five factual filmmakers. Wages are so low and funding so scarce that it’s nearly impossible to make a living here from documentaries alone, and the people who persist anyway do it because they believe in it, not because it pays the bills. Most of these people support themselves with work in other fields and genres. And the scene’s healthy internationalism owes more to Barcelona’s quality of life than its accessibility. Spanish is essential and Catalan, if rarely a strict requisite, is an advantage. Not surprisingly, few of the international filmmakers Metropolitan spoke to began their careers here. Like other expats, they tend to have arrived with experience and contacts already in place, and many have profited from the connections they have outside Spain. They cite compensations for local challenges, such as the good weather, the sea and the low cost of living. Producer Marieke van der Bersselaar, who arrived here from Holland 12 years ago, also mentions a new found freedom to plan on the spur of the moment. The local culture may have challenges but it carries benefits too.

× Expand An e-waste dumpsite in Ghana, shown in Cosima Dannoritzer’s documentary The Lightbulb Conspiracy (2010)

There are two basic economic models for producing documentaries in Barcelona, each accounting for about half the 40 or so films made annually. The first category consists of small, regionally-focused films, whose budgets usually start around €60K and rarely exceed €120K. In the second are comparatively large co-productions, with budgets ranging from €250K to €600K, which take longer to complete. “The imperative to seek money abroad,” explained producer Bettina Walter, “is rooted in the shrinking pool of local funds, and reinforced by the European Union’s MEDIA programme, which incentivises projects with multinational stakeholders.” One of Walter’s recent films, Google and the World Brain, was made with the help of TV channels in eight countries. Although this funding environment produces good films—Google and the World Brain premiered at Sundance—it also means comparatively few ambitious projects get the green light, and the need for transnational appeal can sap their specificity and diversity. At the other end of the scale are films whose budgets place real constraints on creative freedom. The middle ground, as in fiction, is being excised.

If, as Claveria predicts, funding remains at its present level, Barcelona may "stop being a point of reference for the documentary film industry".

Part of the problem is that there’s only one prime-time television slot for documentaries in Spain: Sense Ficciò, which runs on TV3. This makes the channel “the great motor of the local documentary industry,” in the words of Mariona Claveria, who represents documentary-makers’ interests through an association called PRO-DOCS. Sense Ficciò’s founder and director, Joan Salvat, argues that the programme has changed the way documentaries are perceived in Catalunya. Averaging around 250,000 viewers—more during primetime—it refutes the common perception of documentaries as a minority interest. But the umbrella budget for TV3 and Catalunya Ràdio together was cut drastically from €466 million in 2009 to below €300 million in 2014, and has yet to recover. As Claveria points out, “TV3 is now in a difficult situation both economically and in terms of content.” She calls for its funding to be restored and for greater support for documentaries as a distinctive art form. Many echo her claims. “If I were 20 today,” said Bettina Walter, “I wouldn’t go to Spain to produce documentaries. We’re heading for desertification.”

There is a consensus among people in the local documentary-making industry that there should be more prime-time TV slots for the genre. Documentaries exist in a complex, evolving ecosystem determined in part by consumer habits, and on this front at least there’s reason for optimism. Juan Gonzàlez, director of DocsBarcelona film festival, believes we’re living a “golden moment” in terms of interest in documentaries. DocsBarcelona has grown steadily since its inception 20 years ago; its offshoots include sister festivals in Colombia and Chile as well as the DocsBarcelona del Mes initiative, which screens documentaries at 79 theatres worldwide. Across its platforms DocsBarcelona reached 50,000 viewers in Spain in the first half of 2016.

Sense Ficciò also regularly leads viewership—the recent Xavier Cugat documentary secured 17 percent of the audience and 460,000 viewers. Gonzàlez also points to the variety of sensibilities catered to by production companies and universities in Barcelona—the Universitat Pompeu Fabra’s master in creative documentary is particularly well-regarded—as signs of rude health. But growing audience engagement hasn’t yet changed the unprofitability of documentaries. If, as Claveria predicts, funding remains at its present level, Barcelona may “stop being a point of reference for the documentary film industry”.

Attitudes towards documentaries are, ultimately, attitudes about the kind of society we want to live in. Bettina Walter underlines their importance in a climate of growing right wing populism. Salvat speaks of the duty of public broadcasters to work for the common interest, and others talk about the civic or democratic use of documentaries. The conclusion that they deserve public support is too simple without qualification, but it’s also surprising that a region so invested in culture and the arts should neglect this key instrument for society’s reflection on itself.

For the moment, of course, embattled as they might feel, Barcelona’s documentary-makers get to follow their passion and believe in the intrinsic worth of what they do. And, in that regard at least, they’re part of a lucky few.

DOCUMENTARY FILM FESTIAVLS IN BARCELONA