Gross Behaviour - by Leonard Klady

Freedom's Just Another Word
for Nuthin' Left to Lose

It was Churchill who spoke at length about the cumbersome nature of democracy and concluded with something like "many forms of government have been tried and will be tired in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all wise. Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of government, except all those others that have been tried from time to time."

Democracy in action, according to George Bernard Shaw is "the substitution of election by the incompetent many for appointment by the corrupt few."

The problem with democracy is that it appears to fly in the face of human nature. There is a tendency to embrace the czar despite his terrible, often crushing edicts. He is the enemy we know and not the great dark unknown. Democracy, on the other hand, is a relatively new form of governance by theoretically true peers rather than a reliance on a leader who attained sovereignty through birthright or brute force.

It's also fair to say that in practice it works best in the absence of threat or catastrophe or the appearance of anything untoward encroaching on our society. Democracy has an emergency pressure valve called executive action. It allows for our elected leaders to strip away basic liberties in the name of security, stability or myriad other reasons that threaten the bedrock of the way a democratic society functions in the absence of trouble from within or outside its realm. So, historically we've yet to see a true democracy in action because in times of crisis, the foundations of the theory have been replaced by expedient, autocratic measures.

The film industry, in an ideal democratic environment, should function as a meritocracy. However, it does so fitfully. There is no balanced election into the fold nor is there a standard review process that gauges work on the basis of its artistic or commercial attributes. The late screenwriter Peter Stone relayed to me some 20 years ago words of advice from his father - a screenwriter with credits dating back to the 1920s. The elder Stone proffered that a hit allows for two flops, two hits will see you through five flops and so on, exponentially. It's a kind of meritocracy based solely on a financial bottom line and, in truth, hardly a quantifiable truth or a legally enforceable contract.

Hollywood, in the wider sense of American society, adapts to the zeitgeist of the moment. When the nation began to tire of the free-wheeling Roaring 20s, stars ranging from Chaplin to Fatty Arbuckle were literally put on trial for supposed moral lapses. Chaplin, an asset at the time, was spared and Arbuckle was given up as a sacrifice - despite being legally exonerated by a jury. Chaplin was not so lucky when the House Un-American Activities Committee conducted its Hollywood inquisition in the 1950s. His star had faded and he vacated for a life of exile in Switzerland.

As America was gripped by fear in the early days of the Cold War era, Washington in the form of HUAC decided to grab a few headlines by calling upon movie stars to reaffirm their allegiance to freedom and free-thinking. One's word was not enough. People were told they had to sign loyalty oaths and/or go before the committee and receive its stamp of approval.

Lillian Hellman dubbed the period Scoundrel Time and blacklisted writer Dalton Trumbo observed of the moment and the conduct of people that "it will do no good to search for villains or heroes or saints or devils because there were none; there were only victims." The memory of that time is vivid for those who went through the process and, as evidenced by the recent obituaries for Elia Kazan, buckling to the demands of the studio, committee and national hysteria, haunted him to his grave.

The film industry for all its historic support of liberal causes is decidedly conservative in operation. In times of normalcy, it functions with relatively little rancor because the ethos of democracy and true liberal and conservative ideals is compromise. Unreasoned fear rather than the issue at hand vets extremism in either direction, as in political life. The prospect that radical measures must be applied in order to prevent a worst case scenario fits snuggly into the mentality at the terminus of the political spectrum.

Hollywood is in the grip of a political situation in which the voices of reason and the extremists have intertwined to a degree where it's often impossible to ferret out one from the other. It's further complicated by the fact that positions are not consistent; an emissary for one faction will follow de facto action by extending an olive branch and promoting discussion.

What makes the situation all the more disturbing is that it does not center on issues of health, safety, employment or basic human necessities. The issue is whether members of Hollywood's craft and artistic guilds, executives and prominent film critics will receive screening cassettes as part of their process in determining the best film work of 2003. It had been a standard practice for 15 years but in late September the Motion Picture Association of America - representing Hollywood's major producers and distributors - announced a screener ban. The sole reason for the ban, according to MPAA president Jack Valenti, was to curb the problem of film piracy.

To bolster the hard line, the MPAA trotted out several facts. It stated that it had anecdotal knowledge of screener piracy in 2002 that involved roughly 50% of the titles sent out for awards consideration by member companies. The organization also pegged annual losses of $3 billion (roughly 6% of current revenues) to illegal activities, primarily pirated tapes. It said that the decision was firm and irrevocable.

It was a bold and dramatic gesture. Some observers felt it was a necessary step to demonstrate to government leaders that the industry could clean its own house. There are several controversial bills relating to the policing of intellectual property that the MPAA is promoting including standardized security measures in computer hardware and software programs.

What the organization hadn't anticipated was the intensity of negative response to the pulling of promotional videos. Studio specialty divisions sought to reverse or alter the policy, the Independent Feature Project assembled a coalition of high profile names and accused the MPAA of discriminating against low budget, quality movies and several critics groups said the action jeopardized their awards process.

In hindsight it was a tactical blunder on a number of levels all relating to leadership. The acuity of the decision, while likely necessary, did not preclude the need for discussion with those who would be affected by the ban. That did not occur or, on the eve of the announcement, key people were told it was a fait accompli. The MPAA also ran smack into detractors that questioned its focus on a target where instances of piracy were rare rather than more glaring areas of leakage within studio walls and film labs. The industry was not buying the rationale and eventually Valenti had to agree to meet with aggrieved organizations.

As the opposition voices grew louder, the prospect of compromise - a democratic foundation - appeared to be feasible. The wild card was that Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences president Frank Pierson hammered out a proposal that would allow its members to receive screeners. He and Valenti agreed to an arrangement in which VHS copies with embedded markings would go out to members who signed a binding agreement making them responsible should their copy subsequently turn up in a pirated form.

Historically, AMPAS has tried to stay out of the fray of promotional videos. Its official position has been that members should view films on the big screen. It does not provide studios, independents or film producers with membership lists and has advised those sending screeners that they will be penalized if certain packaging standards and promotional extras are part of the mailing. The MPAA were hopeful this compromise would douse the flames. Instead, it rekindled the debate with ever greater ferocity.

Academy members, some all too familiar with the blacklist era, balked at signing a contract. Others felt the agreement cast a shadow on their character. They also objected to the long standing distance between the organization and the studios being purged. The studios also demanded that the list be restricted to voting members in good standing and the Academy agreed to exempt its approximately 600 associate members from the deal.

Meanwhile, the other affected groups marched in and said they, too, were ready to comply on a similar basis to the one carved out with the Academy. In all good conscience Valenti, a committed democrat, could not close the door on discussion. However, the companies he represents included some inflexible members. Privately, Valenti told several reps that logistics and time constraints precluded further compromises. The official statement was: "to extend the screeners beyond the Academy would demand many, many thousands more screeners, which would greatly increase the risk of piracy, and that's a risk the studios cannot afford to take."

There is a simple reason why the screener issue does not go away and that is the failure of the MPAA to address it head on and with unbridled honesty. Decisions to date have been arbitrary or convenient and reflect a policy immune to need, reason or veiled threat. The industry leadership has emerged as a cartel plotting behind closed doors to fix the marketplace and Valenti appears to be a tiger declawed, sent out to placate the masses but failing miserably at the task.

The entire screener affair underlines the broadening chasm that's developed between those who makes movies and the people running the companies that own the majors. Today, as in the 1930s, czars sit on the studio thrones. However, the bygone tribal leaders had faces and those brave enough to enter their chambers and argue their rights might be granted a concession. They might also lose their head. But in a perverse way the system had rules that, if not fair, acknowledged the existence of democratic precepts. For innumerable reasons the film industry can ill afford to see any further erosion of that glimmer of humanity.

Freedom's Just Another Word for Nuthin' Left to Lose

Freedom's Just Another Word
for Nuthin' Left to Lose