Did This New Law Just Revolutionze Filmmaking on Public Lands?
Congress is the new sheriff in town with a brand new set of rules for filmmakers and creators in national parks and beyond
We often get asked what it’s like navigating the landscape of film permits in national parks for our work. Over the years, we’ve had to thread the needle on this topic quite diplomatically—after all, our ability to acquire these permits is crucial to what we do. Privately, I’ve shared with many of you the wild rigmarole this process entails. Well, after this latest move from Congress, I’m finally ready to set free this post I’ve had in the works for years. Buckle up and grab the popcorn.
A long time ago, in a national park not so far away… [queue an epic John Williams score]
National parks and public lands have long been America’s greatest stages, offering the perfect settings for breathtaking films, unforgettable photographs, and personal adventures. My mind immediately goes to Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade with young Indy going for the cross of Coronado in Arches National Park. But behind the scenes, capturing these places hasn’t always been straightforward. Over the years, I’ve seen firsthand how frustrating the National Park Service’s permitting system can be—plenty of hurdles and only occasional successes. Some people have even ended up with fines or in court for filming something as simple as a family video. With the passage of the EXPLORE Act, though, all of that is finally changing.
From Hollywood's Playground to Bureaucratic Maze
In the early days, public lands were an open playground for filmmakers. Monument Valley became the iconic backdrop for Westerns like Stagecoach (1939), and no one gave a second thought to permits, fees, or the environmental toll of horses and wagons tearing across the desert. The visuals captivated audiences, but the unchecked access often left behind trampled ecosystems and a growing awareness that something needed to change.
By the 1970s, environmental protection became a priority. The National Park Service General Authorities Act of 1970 gave the NPS the authority to regulate activities in parks, including filmmaking, to protect their natural and cultural resources. Suddenly, filmmakers were required to apply for permits and pay fees based on crew size, equipment, and potential impact on the land. But while the rules aimed to strike a balance, enforcement was anything but consistent.
Big studios had the resources to navigate the process without breaking a sweat, but for smaller creators, it was a different story. Bureaucratic hurdles could stretch timelines, inflate budgets, or outright derail projects. Independent filmmakers often spent more time wading through paperwork than behind the camera, left wondering why such a supposedly simple process had to feel so opaque and frustrating.
The Downright Absurdity of the Rules
The pre-EXPLORE Act regulations on filming were riddled with contradictions that, at times, felt downright absurd. Take this scenario: you head out to Yosemite with your iPhone, capture a stunning sunset, and post the video to a monetized YouTube channel or a paid newsletter. Suddenly, that simple act transforms into “commercial filming,” complete with permitting fees, potential fines, and even legal trouble. Meanwhile, photographers using the same equipment could sell prints of their images without issue. Identical impact on the land, but wildly different rules.
Adding to the inconsistency, major newscasts were exempt from these regulations, despite operating with large crews and extensive equipment. On the other hand, an independent filmmaker armed with just a tripod and a small camera often found themselves mired in bureaucratic red tape. These outdated rules simply didn’t account for the rise of platforms like YouTube and Instagram, where the line between personal and commercial content has become increasingly blurred.
A Legal Battle for Fairness
The tipping point came in 2019 with the case of Price v. Barr. Independent filmmaker Gordon Price was fined for filming parts of his horror movie Crawford Road in Colonial National Historical Park without a permit. What began as a simple disagreement over permits escalated into a landmark First Amendment case. Price argued that requiring permits and fees for small-scale filming violated free speech protections, especially for creators with minimal environmental impact.
In 2021, U.S. District Judge Colleen Kollar-Kotelly (say that three times fast) ruled in Price’s favor, declaring the regulations outdated. In her opinion, she wrote, "Mr. Price’s filmmaking at these parks constitutes a form of expressive speech protected by the First Amendment.” She added, “The government may not impose a charge for the enjoyment of a right granted by the federal constitution, including the First Amendment right to free expression.”
But the victory was short-lived. In 2022, the U.S. Court of Appeals reversed the ruling. Writing for the majority, Judge Douglas Ginsburg argued that filmmaking itself was not inherently a communicative activity protected under the First Amendment. According to Ginsburg, “a filmmaker does not seek to communicate with others at the location in which he or she films, the filmmaker does not use the location as a ‘forum.’” The court further held that filmmaking “is not itself a communicative activity; it is merely a step in the creation of speech that will be communicated at some other time, usually in some other location.”
This decision highlighted just how uneven the judicial landscape was when addressing these issues. As the parks themselves struggled with inconsistent permitting rules, the courts mirrored this inconsistency in their rulings. In a dissenting opinion, Judge David Tatel gave all of us scratching our heads a little morsel of consolation:
“By disaggregating speech creation and dissemination, my colleagues degrade First Amendment protection for filming, photography, and other activities essential to free expression in today’s world … My colleagues reimagine the public forum to protect the stumping politician but not the silent photographer, to shield the shouting protester but not the note-taking reporter. These distinctions find no basis in First Amendment jurisprudence. It makes no more sense to exclude certain types of speech from public forums than it does to police which squirrels may enter a conservation easement.”
Navigating Uncertainty
In the wake of the court’s reversal, filmmakers and public land users were left adrift in a sea of uncertainty. The National Park Service tried to patch things up with interim guidance, exempting “low-impact” filmmakers from permit requirements. But what exactly counted as “low impact”? That was anyone’s guess—and the answer seemed to vary wildly depending on the park. Some embraced the new rules, others clung to stricter interpretations, and confusion reigned supreme.
For independent creators, the ambiguity was especially brutal. At More Than Just Parks, we saw this mess play out firsthand. Around this time we did an interview with Outside Magazine that ran it as a piece titled Should Filmmakers Pay to Shoot on Public Lands? where we laid out just how broken the system was:
“More than Just Parks was born literally as an effort to share national parks with as many folks as possible, with the goal of protecting them,” I said at the time “This sort of permitting creates a culture of fear and exclusion, especially if you’re the guy with a camera who’s just trying to get by.
We’re of the strong belief that greater awareness leads to more protection. The reason we named it More than Just Parks is that they really are more than just parks, they’re something different to everybody, and they should be a place for inclusion—these places were set aside for everyone.”
I argued then that having a system with unjust and unevenly applied rules invites a sort of vigilanteism among the public. If you’re not sure of the rules then you’re not sure if you’ll follow them. Bad rules invite bad behavior.
Now before you mistake me for someone who loathes these agencies I don’t. Quite the contrary. I’ve worked with many land agencies and had plenty of wonderful experiences even through the permitting process. But our activities almost never were ones that should have required extra time and money on our part or the governments. One notable exception to this was filming the fourth of July fireworks from the roof of the Lincoln Memorial at the behest of NPS.
Our Experience as Public Lands Filmmakers
For filmmakers like us at More Than Just Parks, these ambiguities weren’t just policy debates—they were the everyday hurdles that dictated how, when, if, and where we could work. The challenges weren’t theoretical; they were frustratingly real, and a few instances still stand out.
I distinctly recall an unexpected peremptory email we received from the film permit coordinator at Yellowstone National Park informing us “We recently came across your project idea/ website and I wanted to reach out to see if you were planning to film in Yellowstone” despite us having no plans at the time to do so. When we inquired into what that would look like in the case we ever did want to film there we were told there’d be a $300 application fee and that a monitor might be required (who’s salary we’d have to cover).
Then there was a lovely email from a ranger at Great Smoky Mountains who reached out after we released our GSMNP film informing us that she had no record of a commercial filming permit on file and that we had violated the Code of Federal Regulations 36 CFR 5.5 despite our project not being commercial.
And how could I forget the ranger at Wind Cave National Park who stopped us from entering the cave because our non-flash camera looked “too fancy”? Apparently, this fancy-looking camera required a special permit. How subjective.
Fast forward to 2021 we were working for the NPS and the Department of the Interior on a deferred maintenance film to help get the Great American Outdoors Act through congress and were unable to get several of our permits approved despite the fact that the project was being conducted by the Secretary of Interior’s office (who only answers to the president & the public in theory) .
Enter the EXPLORE Act
When Jim and I first heard of the EXPLORE Act nearly a year ago The EXPLORE Act, signed into law in 2025, brings much-needed clarity and balance to filming on public lands. Here’s the key text provisions below:
No Permits for Small Crews:
Filming or photography involving fewer than six individuals does not require a permit if the activity:
Does not impede or intrude on the experience of other visitors.
Does not disturb or negatively impact natural or cultural resources, environmental values, or scenic values.
Does not require the exclusive use of a site or area.
Avoids high-visitation areas or requires no staging equipment beyond handheld devices like tripods.
De Minimis Authorizations:
For groups between 6 and 8 individuals, a streamlined "de minimis" authorization process is available without permit requirements.
These applications can be completed online or at field offices and are processed immediately.
Permits for Larger Productions:
Groups larger than eight individuals or productions exceeding the low-impact criteria must obtain permits, with fees assessed based on:
Number of days and crew size.
Type and amount of equipment.
Administrative costs incurred by the agency.
Content Creation:
Any activity, regardless of distribution platform, intended for commercial or non-commercial content creation is classified under filming or photography rules
Additional Fees and Restrictions:
Activities causing resource damage, disrupting public enjoyment, or posing health/safety risks are restricted without proper authorization.
A Broader Impact on Public Lands
This act is a huge win for us at More Than Just Parks making our lives much easier by removing the odious previous system. But the EXPLORE Act isn’t just a win for us filmmakers—it’s a win for everyone. By simplifying access, it reinforces the idea that public lands belong to all of us. At the same time, it ensures that large productions, like The Revenant (2015), which required extensive on-location shoots, remain accountable for their environmental impact.
Now when you go to the national mall and take an iphone video you don’t have to worry about the potential ramifications of uploading the video to your social media. You no longer have to look over your shoulder if you’re carrying a fancy looking camera around for fear of a ranger stopping you and asking for your papers.
As technology continues to evolve and platforms for content creation expand, the challenge moving forward will be ensuring this accessibility does not come at the expense of the lands themselves. Striking this balance will require ongoing collaboration between lawmakers, creators, and conservationists to protect these irreplaceable landscapes while celebrating their stories for generations to come.
In case you missed it
What do you think?
I’d love to hear your thoughts on the EXPLORE Act and how it might impact the way you engage with public lands. Do you think the new rules strike the right balance between accessibility and preservation? Have you had experiences with the old permitting system, or do you have a story about creating on public lands? Join the conversation in the comments below—we’re always excited to connect with others who share our passion for these incredible spaces.
Best,
Will
I’m curious if this is applicable to photo workshops of fewer than 6 people. I would hope it is but I suspect it is considered a “guide” activity.
This is a huge step in a positive direction! My biggest concern with it is that it is very vague about "high-visitation areas." I was at Mt LeConte in the Smokies in October and it was very crowded at that time. Is that a high-visitation area? Does it matter that I was filming with a GoPro, probably the least intrusive device on the market?