You can believe it. Living in close proximity to a famous mountain gives you delusions of grandeur and fries your brain. Cape Town’s city fathers really are serious about charging professional photographers for taking pictures in their fair city.
Anybody who takes the trouble to post a 36-page list of film and photographic rules on their website is obviously being shitty with serious intent. Not since Harley-Davidson spent six years and millions of dollars trying to copyright the sound of its motorcycles has the world seen such a breathtaking display of sheer bloody arrogance.
I call the Cape Town Film Office and launch into my spiel. As a motoring journalist, I tell them, I need to photograph a test car against a suitable background to illustrate my road report. Is it true that I need a permit to do this in and around Cape Town? “Oh yes,” says the flunky on the other end of the line. “You’ll have to apply for a permit. We need to know exactly where you’ll be, and when.” My hackles rise.
Why, I ask, do I need to wade through a ton of bureaucratic bullshit just to photograph a legally parked car against a nice, scenic background? “Because it’s for commercial purposes. That’ll cost you R250 per day or part thereof for three or less vehicles and up to eight people. Four to six cars and nine to 15 people will cost you R580.”
What happens, I ask, if I simply park the car like a tourist, take a quick picture from across the road and drive off without telling anyone? Is that a problem?
“Most definitely. There are rules and regulations! If you take a picture for commercial purposes anywhere in our jurisdiction you have to first apply for a permit to use that specific location.” Then he decides to get helpful. “Most people who want to use Table Mountain as a backdrop go to Muizenberg. But you’d have to phone the office there for a permit because it’s their area.”
The Cape Town Film Office came into being as a result of the dozens of overseas film crews running around the peninsula making movies. Some control was needed over the car chase and helicopter crash scenes if they took place in public areas, so what better excuse to cash in on the industry? And so the bureaucratic monster lurched into self-important action.
The 10 300-word “film policy” document on www.capetown.gov.za/ covers, among other things, the use of smoke machines on set, involvement of the SPCA when animals are used, rates to be paid for the hire of fire engines and municipal equipment, and the necessity of not pissing off people who live and work in the affected area.
It also helpfully points out that “this policy seeks to make the task of filming a lot more straightforward and easier for all concerned”. Wow. I’d never have guessed.
According to the introduction, the policy applies to all commercial film and photographic shoots taking place within the municipal boundaries of Cape Town including, but not restricted to, all roads, streets, pavements, parks, municipal buildings, bodies of water and nature reserves.
I phone the Cape Film Commission, which appears to be darkly involved in the whole shooting match. There I get hold of one of those people who knows what’s good for you and sees it as their duty to make sure you get it. I explain my predicament — I need to hop out of a car, take a pic and hop back in, all without getting in anybody’s way.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to get a permit if you’re going to publish the shot,” I’m told. “There may be considerations where we can allow for a discount but you need the permit, otherwise somebody could stop you.” The penalty? A big fine and confiscation of the offending camera gear.
I still don’t see the need to enter the minefield of officialdom just to photograph a car standing on the side of the road. The Cape Film Commission does, however — it thinks that these things need to be controlled: “We have journalists walking around taking pictures from across the road, and it’s very difficult for us to stop that. But if we see that photo in an advert somewhere we’re going to realise where it came from and we’ll think twice about dealing with people like that again!”
Anyway, they need to know when and where I’ll take my picture because they have to clear my actions with the traffic department before a permit can be issued. This I can understand when Hollywood comes to town, but for a single photographer?
I decide to employ Ali G’s tactics and hit her with some what-if questions. What about a wedding photographer taking pictures of the wedding group on the pavement outside the church? An estate agent who takes a picture of a house from across the street? An architect who snaps his latest creation for a catalogue?
All I get in response is what the policy document says — if these people want to stay within the law they must apply for a permit and then wait a few days for the permit office to consult with the traffic department and other authorities. The permit office will enter into negotiations with the ward councillor if the shoot is meant to take place in a residential area, while the client knocks on doors within a “250m2 radius” to make sure nobody objects.
“We just want to control things! Otherwise people could take pictures of things in our area to build up a picture stock and sell photographs to make money!”
Cape Town’s heavy-handed approach to the whole matter stinks. And it all leaves one question: what’s the penalty for killing the goose that lays the golden eggs?