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"To me, the great hope is that now these little 8mm video recorders and stuff will come out and some people who normally wouldn't make movies will be making them and suddenly one day, some little fat girl in Ohio is going to be the new Mozart and make a beautiful film with her father's little camera-corder, and for once the so-called professionalism about movies will be destroyed forever and it will become an art form." — Franics Ford Coppola in the 1980s We've been waiting for the tide to turn for many years now. From almost the beginning of cinema, it's been a business for most. For a century, this amazing art form has been owned and operated by corporations focused on the bottom line. This inevitably means that films look the same, sound the same, are the same. Creative experimentation is discouraged. Beauty is an afterthought. Story is a reproducible financial equation. And it's not just that cinema has been too expensive, too difficult, too time-consuming for the young artist. It's that the medium operates almost exclusively out of one region, one city. If you want to make movies, you have to go to Hollywood—or so it's always been. So what's to become of the common artist, drawn to the great potential of the cinematic art form, but squelched or rejected by an industry that sees no profit in his endeavors? This artist has never had a chance. Never had the opportunity. Until now. We've been waiting for the tide to turn for many years now. In the seventies, we saw the studios shaken by a changing culture that began to deem them as irrelvant. Hollywood turned to young talent, the so-called "film school generation" to save them. These young artists—like George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, Francis Ford Coppola, and Brian de Palma—the rare few, plucked out of obscurity by Hollywood, were given an awesome chance and succeeded at revolutionizing cinema—while also restoring the studios to power. It was counter to everything filmmakers like Lucas and Coppola wanted, but there was no alternative. Hollywood needed fresh, artistic talent, but that talent needed the resources of Hollywood even more—production equipment, facilities, and of course distribution. By the eighties though, times had changed again. The studios were once again at their height, but the introduction of the video camera would open new doors for aspiring filmmakers. Now, the ability to make motion pictures no longer required expensive film. While video could not compare in quality, it did the important thing—it could tell stories in a visual, moving medium. That was useless though, unless you could do something with the footage you shot. Hollywood was still a necessity. And then the nineties came along. Home computers, digital video, editing software—everything you needed to produce a film, and it was all becoming so affordable and accessible that any high school kid could make their own motion picture extravaganza. Hollywood needn't fear though, because even as the technology improved and got closer and closer to film, there was one piece that Hollywood still had the monopoly on: distribution. And without that, those kids could make whatever they wanted, but they had no hope of showing it to anyone outside of their small circle of friends and family. We've been waiting for the tide to turn for many years now. And in this last decade, we've seen the last straw and the weight it's placed on the great camel's back. The internet is the final piece of the puzzle. Every cinematic artist that's been yearning for the chance to make movies and have their work seen now has everything they need. The artists are out there, they have the tools to shoot their movies, the tools to complete them, and now they have a place to present them. This is unlike any other time in the history of the medium—and it should change everything. Right now, all of Hollywood is shut down because the writers are on strike. Does this mean the end of film? Can an organized labor strike really stop the creative process? We're at a turning point and right now every artist out there has the chance of a lifetime. Hollywood, for a moment, is powerless. You have everything you need to do what they have always done before. Now is the time. So, why aren't you out there making the greatest film that's ever been made? Get to it, before everything changes again. |


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Comments
Very insightful. I was having a discussion with some publishing executives this week, and the same thing is happening with books. There is resistance, of course, because the gatekeepers of publishing, movies, music, etc. are reluctant to relinquish their control over the intellectual property. But Pandora is out of the box. We will never go back to the old system again.
What is your take on the WGA strike and its implications in this "last straw" scenario? It has more to do with distribution that creation, but the issues are closely related.
I'll have to address the strike in another post at some point, but I think in short it's very much a no-win scenario. In the long term, the studios need to cut costs if they want to be profitable in the new medium. They need to cut costs not just with the writers though, but across the board--especially up top, with the over-priced executives and actors. Since that seems like trying to put Pandora back in the box, it'll be interesting to see what happens. I don't think the writers are objectively underpaid, but they are underpaid in comparison to other roles in the production. Equity should be their primary goal and right now that means asking for more money. Puts the studios in a real pickle.
Also, organized labor in the creative arts just makes no sense to me.
I'm not a big fan of the idea of unions, but my husband works in film production (and occasionally TV), so I've gotten the opportunity to see first-hand how manhandled the lower-level employees - everyone from production assistants to assistant directors to the art people and yes, the writers - can be. Especially when you're focusing on the bottom line, and especially on low-budget productions, you can end up working eighteen-to-twenty hour days for less than minimum wage. And it's such a hierarchical kind of industry that you really have to start at the bottom and work your way up and live with barely enough money to pay your rent in one of two very expensive cities, forgoing a social life because you are working nights and weekends and eighteen hour days.
I think that's the crazy thing about film: it IS definitely a creative art, but it's also just a huge industry, run by corporations, like any other industry.
I will say, though, that his last film was a big-budget Dreamworks production, and they treated them well. Even though his contract was for 14 hours a day, he could count on not working past 14 hours (and only did once during the whole eight weeks), he got paid on time and for the correct amount, he was fed well, and he had weekends off. It was amazing.
One thing that I find interesting about the egalitarian approach to making art is that there will always be a natural pruning out of the untalented, yes? Not every kid with a camera will make a masterpiece, but at least those who do might get an audience. We might think the competition is too fierce when the professional "gatekeepers" are in charge, but I think sometimes the competition is just as stiff (maybe even more?) when everyone gets am equal shot. Only the best will rise to the top--at least in the ideal sense. (Now that I think of it, some really lousy art has become outrageously popular because of very strange timing).
Anyway, just musing here . . .