Erin Cummings is a Los Angeles actress who worked on the television show "Detroit 1-8-7," a short-lived series that was shot in Michigan and received money from taxpayers as part of the state’s film subsidy program.

The legislature has scaled back the Michigan film tax credits, which previously awarded up to a 42 percent subsidy to select filmmakers. Most of this money went to Hollywood studios and productions.

Though she is back in LA and a native of Texas, Cummings has a place in her heart for Michigan from her time working here and is an advocate for the subsidy. In an interview with MLive, Cummings had the following exchange:

What was your experience like filming the show in Michigan and seeing what kind of impact the state's film credits made during a down economy? 

"It was fantastic. (Critics of film credits) keep saying they want to give the money (otherwise used for film incentives) back to the state, but the state is the people. People kept saying (the state) was giving the (incentive) money away to Hollywood, but there were a very limited number of people from Hollywood who came to Michigan to work on the show. A majority of the people — the catering people, the seamstresses, the extras, a lot of the day players (the smaller roles) — those were people living in Detroit. 

What she sees as a defense is actually a case study in why the film initiative was such a massive economic failure. It may sound good to "give the money back to the people," but in practice this means taking money from taxpayers in the first place to give to state bureaucrats to hand to select film projects.

My colleague Michael LaFaive refers to this as “feeding sparrows through a horse”:

Imagine that a central planner wanted to help sparrows grow and prosper. The central planner can dump feed on the ground evenly and let sparrows partake of it directly, or he can run the feed through a horse first, and let the sparrows pick through the pile that the horse leaves behind. The horse in our example represents the government bureaucracy created to maintain economic development programs. The bottom line is that it costs money to pay bureaucrats to take your money and redistribute it to someone else. Spending millions to support these programs just deprives entrepreneurs of the resources they could be using to create more jobs on their own accord.  

One of the Mackinac Center's "Seven Principles of Sound Public Policy" is that nobody spends somebody else's money as carefully as he spends his own. Michigan residents can surely spend their money — on movies and in other ways — much better than politicians.

Nathan Duszynski and his parents never imagined the firestorm his story would create. 

Their concerns right now deal with more basic matters, such as where they will stay the night or whether Nathan will break even from his next hot dog gig. This was not the way they thought it would turn out. Their hope was that Nathan could get a jump-start on his hot dog business during the idle summer months before school.

That was, until the city of Holland shut down his hot dog cart 10 minutes after he opened for business. The cart was on the edge of the city’s C-3 Commercial District, where food carts not connected to brick-and-mortar restaurants are prohibited. Nathan had a deal to operate the cart in the private parking lot of a downtown sporting goods retailer.

It was a perfect deal for both:  The retailer thought the hot dogs could bring in more customer traffic, and he agreed to give Nathan a commission on bikes that he rented due to the draw of the hot dog cart. Nathan and his parents also had a permanent place to store and set up his cart, no small matter given that it weighs 800 pounds. 

Nathan and his family reached deep into their pockets to make the initial investment. The cart, the food and the permits topped $3,000. When the city told Nathan he could not operate his cart, he had no choice but to sell it. The sale became the first of several breaks Nathan would get from a sympathetic public. A local company, Shoreline Container, bought the cart and said Nathan could use it for future catering jobs. Nathan has had two jobs since then, but he barely broke even because the events require a $200 permit from the county health department, which is only good for 14 days.

Part of Nathan’s problem has been his family’s desperate situation. Nathan’s mother, Lynette Johnson, has epilepsy and is prone to seizures. His stepfather, Doug Johnson, has multiple sclerosis. They are homeless and living on modest disability payments. Doug is a paralegal and was working with the Michigan Rehabilitation Services, but lost his job after funding for the program was cut.

Running out of options on where to stay, the family decided last week to seek living accommodations in a shelter. The arrangement has been far from perfect. Doug is unable to stay in the facility because of the prescription pain narcotics he takes for his MS. The family manages to meet up during the day, usually at the library or coffee shops where there is free Internet. 

Life in the shelter has taken some adjustment. Lynette and Nathan are required to participate in structured programs, and they must leave the facility at certain times. They have little privacy. Neither of them wants to be there. Doug and Lynette want to be off disability, and Nathan says he just wants the freedom to run his business so he can help the family in whatever way he can.

Nathan and his parents are taking it one day at a time, but have a hard time believing their circumstances.

“All he wanted to do was sell hot dogs,” Lynette said. 

(Editor's note: Since the posting of this video, Doug Johnson, stepfather of Nathan Duszynski, has been arrested.)