As independent filmmakers, we’ve all been there—scraping together every last dollar from crowdfunding campaigns, maxed-out credit cards, and favors from friends and family just to get a short film off the ground. Meanwhile, streaming giants like Netflix are tossing around budgets that could fund entire careers.
The recent conviction of director Carl Erik Rinsch in the “White Horse” scandal isn’t just a tale of one man’s fraud; it’s a glaring indictment of Netflix’s reckless spending and utter lack of oversight. How could a company with billions in revenue hand over $60 million to an unproven project without ensuring it was properly managed? It’s time we hold the executives and production teams accountable—because that wasted cash could have ignited 60 passionate indie projects instead.
Let’s recap the disaster. In 2018, Netflix struck a deal with Rinsch, the director behind the box-office bomb 47 Ronin, to produce a sci-fi series originally titled White Horse (later Conquest). The premise sounded intriguing: a near-future battle between humans and superintelligent clones. Netflix committed an initial $55 million, granting Rinsch unprecedented creative control, including final cut privileges. But production, which started in Brazil in 2019, quickly devolved into chaos with delays, budget overruns, and no tangible progress. By 2020, Rinsch allegedly convinced Netflix to advance an additional $11 million under the pretense of completing post-production. Instead, he diverted the funds to personal extravagances: cryptocurrency trades that briefly netted profits, five Rolls-Royces, a Ferrari, and even $1 million in luxury mattresses and linens he claimed were “props.”
Fast forward to , December , 2025: A Manhattan jury has convicted Rinsch on all counts of wire fraud, money laundering, and illegal transactions. He faces years in prison, and Netflix has already secured an $11.8 million civil arbitration award against him. Yet, the series remains unfinished—no episodes delivered, footage gathering dust in Netflix’s vaults, and zero chance of release.
This isn’t just a $60 million write-off; it’s a monumental failure of corporate governance.
Where was the oversight? Netflix, in its rush to dominate the streaming wars, outbid rivals like Amazon without rigorous checks and balances. Granting a director with a spotty track record full autonomy over such a massive sum screams negligence. The production team—producers, line managers, and on-set overseers—should have flagged the red flags: escalating costs, stalled shoots, and Rinsch’s erratic behavior (his defense even cited a “state of psychosis”).
And the executives who greenlit this? They bear the ultimate responsibility. In any other industry, heads would roll for squandering shareholder money like this. But in Hollywood’s streaming bubble, accountability seems optional.
Now, contrast this with the indie world we know all too well. Filmmakers on Stage32 are hustling to raise $1 million—or even $100,000—for projects born from genuine passion and grit. These aren’t vanity ventures; they’re stories that challenge norms, amplify underrepresented voices, and push cinematic boundaries. Netflix could have allocated that $60 million to fund 60 indie films at $1 million each. Imagine the diversity: 60 fresh visions from emerging directors, supporting crews, actors, and post-production talent. Instead, it’s all gone—poof—into luxury cars and bad bets.
This scandal should be a wake-up call. Netflix, and streamers like it, need to implement stricter protocols: mandatory progress audits, milestone-based funding, and clawback clauses for fraud. Executives involved should face internal reviews, and perhaps even public scrutiny from shareholders. As for us indies? We must keep amplifying these stories to pressure the industry for change. Platforms like Stage32 are perfect for rallying—share your funding struggles in the comments, and let’s demand that big money supports real creators, not reckless gambles.
The “White Horse” fiasco isn’t just about one fraudulent director; it’s about a system that prioritizes spectacle over substance. Let’s hold Netflix accountable and fight for a fairer playing field where indie passion wins out over corporate carelessness. What do you think, fellow filmmakers? Have you faced similar frustrations?
