Jul 21

Jul 21 On the Vanguard

Demonstrations, Protest, Public Declarations

“Come gather ‘round, children, it’s high time, ye learned!
’Bout a hero, named Homer, and a devil, named Burns

’Cause we’ll march day and night, by the big cooling towers
They have the plant, but we have, the power!”

— They Have the Plant, But We Have the Power, The Simpsons, Season 4, Episode 17

On July 14, 2023, members of the SAG-AFTRA (Screen Actors Guild--American Federation of Television and Radio Actors), joined members of the WGA (Writers Guild of America) in a strike against the Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP). That’s a lot of acronyms to unscramble, but the consequences are nevertheless clear: If the dispute continues much longer, most of us will be rewatching Ted Lasso and The Wire, as well as lots of BBC and South Korean TV shows.

Normally, when I think of labor disputes, the Teamsters, the United Autoworkers, the Service Employee International Union, and the Major League Baseball Players Association come to mind, as does the Chicago Teachers Union, which now dominates Chicago politics and finances.

For the most part, I don’t associate white collar workers with the word “strike.” When did law firm associates or junior accountants last walk off the job?

The current strike against AMPTP began as a writer’s strike, with the actors first entering the fray on July 14. Given that writers rely solely on their intellect to earn their keep, they are about as white collar as any group could be. Given what is at stake, the actors and writers may be at a new vanguard in American labor history, with legal associates, junior accountants, architectural draftsmen, and other private sector office inhabitants eventually following the lead, although these days, they may take to the streets from their home offices.

I reviewed several articles outlining writer and actor demands. On one level, their demands are no different than the ones made by their blue collar counterparts: wages and benefits that rise commensurately with the cost of living, better working conditions, and more job security.

On first impression, those demands may seem a bit odd. Matt Damon, Tom Cruise, and Meryl Streep have lots of job security and wealth. But when next attending a movie, stay for the credits. After the seven or eight familiar names scroll by, there will be hundreds of other names that only family members recognize. The vast majority of those listed often rely on side hustles to cover day-to-day living expenses between often sporadic assignments.

In addition to the typical demands, both the writers and actors are motivated by two larger, society-wide concerns. First, like many others, the current work stoppage highlights the perceived income inequality that Progressives rail against.

Studio heads and megastars are cleaning up, laying claim to an arguably disproportionate share of the revenue generated from streaming subscriptions and movie tickets. Even media mogul Barry Diller, who once headed Paramount Pictures and 20th Century Fox, acknowledges that income inequality is pervasive in Hollywood, suggesting that the upper echelon take a 25% pay cut, which would mean more crumbs will fall to journeymen writers and actors. Not necessarily a half a loaf, but maybe a couple of slices, albeit thin ones.

Second, the actors and writers worry about the impact that artificial intelligence (A.I.) will have on their futures. Will Hollywood use A.I. to insert computer-generated characters into scenes? The better known actors are concerned that their likenesses may appear in new movies and shows without their sentient selves receiving even a nickel. Don’t forget the stunt men and women, as well as the body doubles. No need for them once A.I. inserts an actor’s “twin” into a scene that requires the physical dexterity of an Olympic gymnast, or one that poses significant danger.

As for the writers, they are concerned that chat bots will generate plots, stories, and dialogue. One person need only ask the bot to fill in the details, eliminating a room filled with writers. Who needs Dick Van Dyke, Sally Rogers, or Buddy Sorrell? Certainly not Mel Cooley or Alan Brady.

I am a bit skeptical, having used ChatGPT. Its style is clinical, but no doubt with time, it will become more human-like. Yet, will it ever be able to write with soul or by interjecting a unique style and cadence? Can a bot replace Paddy Chayefsky, Colin Jost, Spike Lee, or Harold Pinter?

I can certainly imagine the bots replacing other white collar workers, such as commercial photographers who produce images for packaging and advertising; accountants who write financial reports; and lawyers who summarize depositions, emails and other written evidence. As those on the frontline of those professions face replacement, I have little doubt that they will follow in the writers’ footsteps, particularly as the few who remain employed see their wages decline because they are competing against cheap computing power.

With the foregoing in mind, I spent four mornings this week observing and photographing the picket lines in New York City. The actors and writers have taken to the streets at four site: Rockefeller Center where NBC is headquartered; Time Square, home to Paramount; Hudson Yards, where Spectrum, the large communication company has office space; and 19th and Broadway, home to streaming kingpin, Netflix.

The effort is extremely well-organized. At one point, I asked one official wearing a lime green phosphorus vest whether the bullhorn toting leaders were professionals. The rhymes blaring from the bullhorns were clever and each world was clearly enunciated. But should I have been surprised? I was told these weren’t professional strikers, just people who make a living writing and acting, sometimes as voice actors.

With the exception of Hudson Yards, the picket lines were generally well populated. Hudson Yards may have been a problem for the organizers because, of the four sites, it is the least accessible by public transportation—-although I did see several vans bearing the SAG-AFTRA label.

The signage was professionally printed, giving it a uniform look. Some writers, however, could not resist doing some editing, adding additional verbiage with Sharpies. For example, one sign read, “Writing Squid Game Should Not Feel Like Playing Squid Game.”

I did wonder why each day the strike ended at noon. I was told the organizers were concerned about the heat—dehydration and heat stroke. That same person told me that many people on the picket line needed to pick up children from day care and elementary school, providing further evidence that not every actor and writer can afford au pairs, cooks, and other household help.

When I suggested that some might be headed to temporary positions as bartenders, waiters, and waitresses, the strike captain told me that for many on the line, acting and writing assignments were often short-lived, which means many still needed side jobs, which is further evidence of the income inequality that the unions claim is so pervasive in the entertainment industry.

I did encounter a few familiar faces. I could put a name to some faces, but with others, I kept thinking, “I know that face, but I can’t place it.” Even the better known people on the line required at least a moment of thought. I am not used to seeing F. Murray Abraham in what must be a beloved New Orleans Jazz and Heritage tank top; hair rustled, and head covered by a baseball cap.

Tony Soprano must have survived the mysterious last episode. Two of his “goons” were walking the picket line at Times Square—Michael Imperioli (Christopher Moltisanti) and Steve Schirripa (aka Bobby Baccalieri).

I offered one of the captains a suggestion on Day 2. He responded rather sardonically, “You have a suggestion for the union, like everyone else? Let’s hear it!.” My response, “People on the lines should wear tee-shirts or other garb that reveals what notable works they help create. It would further humanize them, reminding all of us of efforts that we have enjoyed.” He quickly acknowledged that my idea was a good one. And it was: I spoke with a striker wearing a backpack labeled “Samantha Bee, Full Frontal.” According to that writer, Full Frontal was a show with great swag. The logo made him very relatable, which is why I interacted with him.

During my time covering the strike, I was hassled twice by Rockefeller Center security guards, both telling me I could not stand on the sidewalk, but had to keep moving. My response, “You’re not a member of the NYPD. This is a public sidewalk over which you have no jurisdiction. I have a First Amendment right to photograph this demonstration.” I mention this because there had been reports of Paramount trimming the trees that had provided shade to the Hollywood picketers. I wondered whether this was another attempt by management to impede the strikers’ efforts—reduce media coverage, which was a fool’s effort given the number of photographers on the street. Getty Images is always looking for celebrity pics.

I will be headed back to New York City several times over the next couple of months. Given the state of the negotiations, I most likely will find myself photographing the strikers again. I seriously doubt the studio and streaming heads will consider Barry Diller’s proposal.

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