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Is film tourism now becoming a problem?

Movie fans are flocking to locations ill-equipped to handle them. 

Film and TV locations have drawn people from around the world for years. From the misty mountains of New Zealand’s ‘Middle Earth’ to Croatia’s mediaeval Old Towns featured in Game of Thrones.

But the global pilgrimage of fans has started to feel less like harmless fun and more like a relentless invasion of spaces that were never designed to handle the weight of mass tourism.

Chalcot Crescent in London’s Primrose Hill is the latest famous location to spark a frosty debate between locals and tourists.

The street is known for its pastel coloured houses, and featured as the home of the Brown family in the new ‘Paddington’ films. Visitors have flocked to the Regency terraces since 2014, but a recent offering by Airbnb has had residents up in arms.

The travel app has announced plans to renovate a house on Chalcot Crescent, transforming it into a replica of the set for a series of film-themed stays. This will involve painting the facade of the house, blocking five parking spaces on the street, and bringing noise disruption to the area during the week.

Unsurprisingly some residents are furious, not just over the immediate inconvenience but what it represents: the creeping commodification of their community and the blurring line between private spaces and public playgrounds.

It might seem like harmless movie magic to outside visitors, but when a community is subjected to a constant influx of tourists the results can be disruptive and damaging. Overcrowding, traffic issues, increased litter, and a sense of invasion are all par for the course.

Chalcot Crescent isn’t the first location to face the burden of film tourism. The tiny Scottish town of Glenfinnan – with a population of just 150 – has seen coach-loads of visitors arrive to photograph the nearby Glenfinnan viaduct, which was featured in the ‘Harry Potter’ films.

According to National Trust Scotland, nearly half a million tourists visited the viaduct in the first 10 months of 2023, causing ‘complete gridlock’ on local roads and instances of public urination due to a lack of sufficient public toilets.

Similarly, the village of Bampton in Oxfordshire has become a hotspot for ‘Downton Abbey’ devotees. Residents of this sleepy village now face hordes of tourists who arrive by the busload, bringing with them litter, noise, and little contribution to the local economy.

The crux of the problem with film tourism is that it reimagines real places as fantasy worlds. But these real places have real people in them. And the more they’re treated as a tourist destination, the more this distinction fades, leaving locals to bear the brunt of poorly managed tourism while reaping little reward.

This isn’t to say that film tourism is entirely without benefit. In areas with the infrastructure to support it, film tourism can inject significant economic value. New Zealand’s economy, for instance, was famously bolstered by ‘The Lord of the Rings’ franchise, with entire towns seeing new growth thanks to the tourists eager to experience ‘Middle Earth’ firsthand.

When managed responsibly, the influx of visitors can bring life and financial support to areas otherwise overlooked. But in neighbourhoods like Chalcot Crescent, a residential street in a major city, the charm and tranquillity that make it attractive for film sets are the very things at risk of being destroyed by unmanaged tourism.

There’s no easy solution, but there are middle grounds that could help communities better navigate this complex relationship. Stricter limits on tourist numbers and implementing tourist ‘etiquette’ policies could help to mitigate the negative impact on local residents.

Iceland is an interesting example in the case of film tourism. After seeing a spike in visitors thanks to films like ‘The Secret Life of Walter Mitty’, the country implemented a tourist ‘pledge’ that asks visitors to commit to a set of respectful behaviours toward the community and landscape.

More importantly, however, platforms like Airbnb need to rethink the way they interact with residential areas. A competition to attract tourists may seem like harmless marketing, but for communities that already feel besieged by visitors, these campaigns come across slightly tone-deaf.

Airbnb has responded to protests from locals, promising to invest a significant amount of money back into the Primrose Hill area. But instead of a short-lived competition, Airbnb could partner with local councils, helping to fund security, litter control, and other resources needed to maintain the area.

As long as films are made, people will flock to see the places their favourite characters spent time. But the lines between public enjoyment and private life need to be drawn carefully, with real respect for the communities that call these places home.

Chalcot Crescent may have to learn to live with its fame, but it shouldn’t have to sacrifice its character – or its residents’ quality of life – to do so.

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