Nick Ritacco started acting in New York and appeared on “Law & Order: SVU” and “Homeland.” Since moving to L.A., his career has taken off — in an unexpected way.
In the last two years, he has starred in 40 microdramas, including “Fated to My Forbidden Vampire” (he’s the vampire) and “The CEO Trap” (he’s the CEO). In a dark time for the industry, these addictive vertical shorts are booming.
“There’s so much production, which I think is a beautiful thing,” Ritacco says. “It’s employing so many people who have been suffering through the pandemic and the strikes. It’s really saving a lot of people’s bacon.”
Microdramas exploded in Asia a few years ago but only recently have taken hold in Hollywood. They are shot quickly for tiny budgets — $150,000 to $200,000 for a feature-length film, which is then distributed in segments of two minutes or less. A series of cliffhangers leads to a paywall, prompting the viewer to sign up for an app — DramaBox, ReelShort, FlareFlow and so on — to watch the full story.
The plots tend to be melodramatic — a female lead is swept off her feet by a dashing vampire (or CEO).
“It’s capturing an audience I don’t think felt seen or heard,” Ritacco says.
These productions are unusual in Hollywood because they are entirely nonunion. Writers and actors who belong to the major guilds are forbidden from working on them. But some union members are doing so anyway, risking discipline.
“I know a lot of actors who are SAG who are doing vertical soaps on the down-low, because they need to pay their bills,” says Adriana Vecchioli, star of such titles as “Farewell to My Three Time Failing Ex.” “The union work has really dried up recently.”
In September, the Writers Guild of America warned its members not to work on verticals, noting that any writing for a non-signatory company is a violation of union rules. But some are finding creative ways around that.
“There are union workers who will work under pseudonyms,” says Adrion Trujillo, formerly an in-house writer at DramaBox. “I went from submitting to contests to working next to ‘Game of Thrones’ writers. There were a number of writers on our team. The majority were not using their real names.”
Writers are expected to churn out one script a month and may make around $80,000 a year — well below WGA rates. Lead actors can make $500 or more a day — and can work constantly.
Some actors have resigned from SAG-AFTRA — going Financial Core —to work nonunion.
“There’s a lot of Fi-Core people in this space without a doubt,” Ritacco says.
An executive at one of the major platforms agreed. “There are people who are leaving unions,” the person said. “Some are not willing to let go of SAG status and are working undercover. Some are using different names.”
Last month, SAG-AFTRA took a stab at addressing the issue, creating a contract that would allow microdrama producers to shoot with union actors.
“We have a lot of members who are interested in working on these projects,” says Duncan Crabtree-Ireland, the union’s executive director. “We don’t want to be an obstacle to our members getting the opportunity to do so.”
The deal includes a rock-bottom minimum rate — $250 a day for lead performers, $164 for everyone else — plus provisions for overtime, pension and health contributions, and standard protections for stunts and sex scenes.
Since issuing the deal, union leaders have held meetings with microdrama companies. While many have welcomed the opportunity to give feedback, they have been cool on the arrangement.
“The union is being very collaborative and is actively working with us to find an agreement that makes sense for both sides,” says Alex Amsellem, head of casting at GoodShort. But “as of right now, for most vertical companies, it is not usable.”
Several companies have said they don’t object to paying pension and health contributions for SAG-AFTRA cast members. But they don’t see why they should pay contributions for nonunion actors.
“It has to make sense within our budgets,” says Amy Sullivan, development head at FlareFlow. “That’s the only way we have an ROI on these things.”
Some also raised concerns about a five-minute limit on promotional footage — saying that fundamentally misunderstands the business model. But the biggest issue, for most of them, was a fear of getting bogged down in union paperwork.
“In verticals we have zero time,” Amsellem says. “We can’t wait. We are in the business of producing a lot of content. We cannot use the agreement unless any process is fast.”
For the producers, the upside of working with SAG-AFTRA talent would have to outweigh the extra costs and delays in order to make it worthwhile.
“Many of these companies have never dealt with unions before,” says Paul Ruddy, head of casting at FlareFlow. “It’s going to be a tough sell for them unless there’s a structure that makes sense for everyone involved.”
For the actors, union protections would provide better pay and benefits, along with safety standards. The fast pace of production can make things feel a little risky, Ritacco says.
“There’s been some vertical sets where working conditions are pretty abusive and exploitative,” Vecchioli says, noting one with especially long hours. “At the end of the day, 80% of the cast made less than minimum wage.”
Unionization would also confer greater legitimacy. “The fact that SAG is looking at them goes to show these aren’t going anywhere,” says Ashley Ahlquist, who plays the villain in projects like “The Billionaire’s Virgin Surrogate.” “This is the new format. They’re popular and working. It gives them more credibility.”
Some actors are building up a fan base in verticals while still auditioning for TV and film jobs. But Ritacco can’t work another union gig without joining SAG-AFTRA, which would cut him off from verticals, where he is gaining traction.
“I was in Barcelona, and someone at the hotel recognized me,” he says.
