About a week after Ingmar Bergman’s death, the filmmaker’s Swedish state-run archive announced that they needed an additional $600,000 over their yearly budget to digitize Bergman’s early papers. At the time, the archive’s rep argued that the Swedish government’s refusal to pony up the funds (roughly three times what it costs to run the archive for an entire year) rendered the state derelict in their duty to preserve the nation’s art history. The next day, the Archive accepted a $10,000 donation from the people who put on the Golden Globes, and we haven’t heard from them since.

Meanwhile, in Northern Italy, a museum housing the personal archives of Michelangelo Antonioni has been closed for renovations for a year, and unless they get an influx of cash and soon, it look like they’re not going to be able to reopen. The mayor of the town of Ferrara says they might be able to save the archive by expanding the museum to include tributes to other filmmakers, but Antonioni’s niece insists her uncle donated his materials under the promise that the museum would be dedicated solely to him. Until the city and the family reach a compromise, Antonioni’s short films, drawings, on-set photographs, and other memorabilia will be stuck in storage.

Say what you will about Hollywood, but the U.S. film industry is extremely good at preserving its own history. What state-funded institutions such as LACMA can’t cover, enthusiastic millionaire movie buffs like Hugh Hefner step in to provide. The sad state of the Bergman and Antonioni archives may owe less to government apathy than to to the current fragmentary nature of the European film industry.