As a movie with most scenes set in Iraq, Matthew would never consider taking the crew to film there. Iraq was practically synonymous with chaos, with reports of new extremist terror organizations operating there. Encountering roadside bombs or car bombs would be hardly surprising.
Besides, they were an American crew, and an American crew filming in a country destabilized by the USA would likely attract hostile attention.
There were plenty of alternative locations that could recreate the look of Iraq. For example, Kathryn Bigelow's crew for The Hurt Locker had filmed in Amman, Jordan. Filming in a relatively stable Middle Eastern country was an option, but Matthew dismissed this early on. He preferred to keep the crew in North America, ideally in California.
This plan served two purposes. First, it allowed him to stay on top of other projects since he wasn't just an actor. Second, Clint Eastwood was 81 years old, and Matthew wanted to minimize travel strain on him.
They ultimately chose a site in Southern California. The desert scenes in Jarhead, which portrayed the "Desert Storm" operation, had been shot there in 2005. Universal Studios had previously built a set resembling an Iraqi town in a vast desert valley in Southern California, later used for films like In the Valley of Elah.
However, in recent years, this site had fallen into disrepair, partially because similar films had shifted to on-location shoots in the Middle East.
After surveying the site with Clint Eastwood, they decided to make it the main location for exterior shots. The town set, built primarily from wood and sand, consisted of a few dozen small, mud-colored buildings connected by four or five short, uneven streets littered with debris blown in from who-knows-where. Roughly 20% of the buildings had collapsed or lost their roofs.
"It needs some repairs," Clint Eastwood said from a nearby platform. "But don't make it look too good; the rundown appearance adds to the post-war look we need."
Matthew took off his sunglasses, squinting into the bright sunlight. "I'll talk to Universal about it."
This wouldn't be a big deal. Minor repairs would help extend the life of this set. Without their rental agreement with Universal, the place might fall into complete ruin within a few years.
Clint Eastwood nodded and said, "Let's head back."
Matthew helped him down. Clint seemed energetic, but his 80-year-old body couldn't escape the effects of age.
Rumor had it that Clint Eastwood was going through a divorce with his second wife, Dina Eastwood, and the reason was, predictably, a new romantic interest.
Although hardly unusual in Hollywood, Clint's situation differed because Dina had allegedly caught him red-handed.
But Clint Eastwood wasn't about to remarry. Word had it he wasn't interested in anything serious with his new partner. Given his age, any long-term investments might only lead to problems.
Due to Clint Eastwood's age, Matthew was extra cautious. Overseas filming carried too many risks; if something happened to Clint, switching directors would bring untold complications.
Another key reason for choosing Southern California was the tax incentives and special subsidies they had applied for through the California state government.
Hollywood, while based in California, had long since become a global entertainment industry. In recent years, favorable tax incentives from other states and countries—such as Canada, Australia, the UK, and Morocco—had drawn numerous productions away from California.
By the early 2000s, it had become rare for top-tier productions to shoot in California, causing the large studio lots to fall into disuse, serving mainly as tourist attractions.
Around 2004, California introduced a series of incentives, including a tax credit policy with a cap of $100 million per year. Some special projects also qualified for direct subsidies from the state's budget.
The goal was to retain more film crews in California to create jobs. However, the policy had limitations. For a film to qualify, over 70% of its production, from pre-production to post-production, had to be completed in California, and the annual cap limited the support to just 23 film or television projects per year.
Compared to the sheer volume of Hollywood productions, this was a drop in the bucket.
Moreover, the $100 million cap was modest. New York City alone provided $450 million annually in tax credits to attract Hollywood productions.
American Sniper had a strong chance of becoming one of the 23 projects to receive California's incentives for the following year due to its subject matter.
As the administrative CEO of Thirteen Studios, Bella Anderson visited the Hollywood Affairs Office in Burbank, established by the California state government.
"Ms. Anderson, you're a bit late," a middle-aged man with glasses said, looking at her from across the conference room table. "There are already 20 slots filled out of 23 for next year. The last three slots have over 25 projects competing."
Securing a tax credit was not easy.
Bella had been here multiple times and had gathered information on all her competitors.
She noticed four people in the room she hadn't seen before.
She and the man with glasses had nearly closed the deal when she was suddenly informed yesterday to provide further clarification.
A quick glance told her that the four newcomers likely had influence over the final decision.
Having worked closely with Matthew for years, Bella was no longer the assistant she had once been. She handled the studio's daily operations and had a certain level of decision-making power.
She knew exactly what was needed in this situation.
The man with glasses asked, "Ms. Anderson, why should we grant one of these spots to American Sniper?"
Bella detected the implied prompt in his question. In these cases, what was needed wasn't anything underhanded but a solid, justifiable reason—a reason these people could openly use to justify their decision to the public.
"Gentlemen, aside from American Sniper, what other films are on the list?" Bella said earnestly. "I mean no disrespect to those films, but let's remember that the highest-budgeted project on that list only has a $25 million budget, and it's a small-cast romance."
One of the newcomers, a balding man, said, "A film's worth isn't determined by its budget, is it?"
Bella didn't answer directly, instead calmly stating, "But the tax revenue and jobs a project generates are directly related to its budget."
The man fell silent. California's tax policies weren't designed to help Hollywood produce 'quality' films; they aimed to create jobs and increase revenue.
"Gentlemen, let me make something clear," Bella said confidently. "American Sniper has a production budget of $100 million, with a staff of over 2,000. We estimate conservatively that it will create at least 1,800 jobs for California residents over the next two years."
She added, "And let's not forget, this is a Matthew Horner film. We're projecting $300 million at the North American box office and $600 million globally, which will bring significant tax revenue back to California."
The four people began discussing among themselves in low voices.
Once they finished, Bella continued, "Look at the other projects on the list—Grinder, Crazy Woman, Weak Life, and so on. None of them will employ more than 100 people."
Large-scale productions create far more jobs than small independent projects.
A single war scene alone requires ten or twenty times the crew of those entire smaller projects.
The man with glasses then asked, "Can these job numbers be specified in a written agreement?"
"Absolutely," Bella replied without hesitation.
Since they planned to shoot in Southern California, they would naturally prioritize hiring locals.
With that, Bella looked confidently at the four unfamiliar faces.