Showing posts with label Home video. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Home video. Show all posts

June 18, 2023

Hollywood Writers' Stance on AI is Short Sighted, Reveals Disingenuousness and Fear of Technology

When considering the Hollywood writer’s strike and what the WGA is asking for in its negotiations with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP), one issue resonates above all others -- the writers’ motivations and questionable stance regarding artificial intelligence and the role it could come to play in TV and film writing. Artificial intelligence (AI) and language models have arguably been the single hottest topic in the world of technology since ChatGPT was introduced by research laboratory OpenAI last November. This new iteration of ChatGPT is far more advanced, sophisticated and human-like than any AI or chatbot ever deployed to this point. Wired magazine, for its part, can’t seem to cover this topic enough and for the past 2-3 months it's seemed like every other article the tech pub spits out is about ChatGPT. But as far as the Hollywood writers go, it seems they're showing concern that AI is becoming so sophisticated and powerful that it could theoretically replace and do part (or perhaps one day soon, all) of the job of a guild writer. The WGA is thus calling for studios to “regulate” or otherwise severely limit the use of AI in the writing process, as well as abstain from asking writers to edit or rewrite material written by AI.

Part of the rationale behind the writers' hard stance is their belief that AI-generated work could never approach the prowess and richness that a human writer brings. Currently, this seems largely true. As of this writing, artificial intelligence can compose everything from haikus, to term papers, to sketches, and even more -- but the general belief is that the results lack “spark”, “humanity” and “flair” and, though serviceable, are not remarkable enough to move forward without considerable rewriting... At least that’s as of now.

One of the most valuable traits of AI and ChatGPT in particular, is that it’s constantly learning and improving, as it culls from innumerable sources to hone it’s responses and better fulfill the conversational, research, authorship or other task it's been assigned. ChatGPT is also great at mimicking. So, for instance, you can ask it to write song lyrics in a distinctive style — say, that of Prince… or The Ramones… or Morrissey —- and it could do so. Similarly, when it comes to TV and film writing, ChatGPT could potentially be asked to imitate an Aaron Sorkin or a young Woody Allen. The quality of the result, as of now, may be questionable but as soon as six months, a year, two years from now, imagine how much better they'll be. Indeed, ChatGPT has already been estimated to have a verbal IQ of 155 and has passed both medical boards and the bar exam, so just think what it could be accomplishing in the near future.

This is where the WGA has shown the most concern. Similar to how it negotiated during the 2007-08 writer’s strike to install guardrails protecting against diminished perceived value of the writer as a result of industry changes brought about by the internet and streaming, so too are the writers now looking to negotiate to keep their value strong as AI makes its way into the writing industry. However, on this specific issue, despite its stated intentions, there’s a good deal of false nobility and short-sightedness  operating within the WGA.

The guild justifies the strike in general (and the demand for negotiation regarding AI specifically) by claiming that it's seeking to secure fair consideration and compensation for current industry writers, while also ensuring opportunity for the next generation… It’s a half truth. In reality, what the writers are really worried about is their own jobs. The entirety of the pushback against AI is not for the benefit of the next generation of writers, but for the financial security of the current one. They’re worried about a day when a production exec fires up their laptop, starts a conversation with ChatGPT, throws out a premise, a few character descriptions and plot points and then lets AI go to work cranking out a complete pilot. In the WGA's eyes that’s a worst-case scenario. There’s also one where AI does all the heavy lifting (e.g., developing the plot, the characters, and perhaps an initial treatment) and then a human writer is brought in to work with the result by developing, punching up, and polishing it into something more usable. Revisions like this earn fees much lower than commissioned first drafts or even spec scripts. The writers are worried that if AI proves up to it, we could be looking at a world where (for instance) an entire season of an hour long drama could be outlined in an afternoon — and at a cost of zero dollars. That possibility scares the pants off every single writer in the WGA, as evidenced by the words of C. Robert Cargill (writer of Dr. Strange, Sinister, and The Black Phone) who weeks ago tweeted, "The immediate fear of AI isn’t that us writers will have our work replaced by artificially generated content. It’s that we will be underpaid to rewrite that trash into something we could have done better from the start."

There are two things wrong with this way of thinking. First, it pre-supposes that anything AI produces is in fact vastly inferior (i.e., "trash".) How does Cargill (or anyone else) know that AI won't soon be entirely capable of cranking out a perfectly acceptable first draft?... It's emblematic of the type of arrogance that exists among paid, high-level Hollywood writers. Is it crazy to think that any intelligence capable of scoring 710/800 on SAT verbal, has enough mastery of the English language to handle a creative writing assignment?... The rub would be how much imagination, creativity, and personal style would be applied. But this is true of work created by humans as well. After all, it's already been posited that when it comes to storytelling, there are only 4 types of conflict and 7 basic plots -- everything else is just variations on a formula. Cargill makes it sound like he and his guild brethren alone are capable of gold standard work. On the contrary, the WGA is full of mediocre and pedestrian writers and the creative output of these and every other writer is, and always will be, judged with a good deal of subjectivity. For example, one decision-maker may deem a script a funny, imaginative take on a standard theme, while the next might dismiss it as too derivative and only mildly amusing. So it's the same with AI as it is with human writers. Whether it's a line of dialogue, premise, story arc, full screenplay, etc., the final result is always subject to criticism and being dismissed as "trash".

Also consider that not every Hollywood writer is working on  Succession, Breaking BadEverything Everywhere All at Once, or other top-notch entertainmentLess ambitious productions -- children's shows like Paw Patrol and Blues Clues have writersSo does Syfy channel schlock like the Sharktopus movies and dopey theatrical features like Cocaine Bear. Game and quiz shows like Jeopardy and The Wall employ writers to create the contestant questions, and tons of entertainment and other segmented shows have writers penning "wraparounds" and RPG video game makers need storylines for the campaigns of their games. Is the WGA so haughty it thinks AI can't handle writing things of this far less demanding ilk?... 

Also at the root of the WGA's objection to AI is a fear of competition. When the guild loudly protests against AI and declares it's protecting the futures of up and coming writers, it’s just posturing and PR. The WGA is in fact a select (fewer than 13,000 members) elitist group that has always sought to keep its numbers small — if for no other reason than to ensure more opportunity (i.e., writing gigs) for their own. Think about it, if the WGA is so concerned about paving the way and ensuring opportunity for new writers, why does it direct its members never to accept or read unsolicited material from aspiring writers who might be seeking advice or mentorship? (Hint: it's not solely to guard against potential claims of stolen IP...) Why does it restrict membership only to writers who have been paid or sold something?… Why doesn't it offer meaningful mentorship or internship programs to unknowns?… It's because the WGA is designed to keep wannabes out, not help them break in. They don’t want expansion of their club; they want it exclusive, with power consolidated and jobs and paychecks reserved for them, the few. Though the political leanings of their individual members may lean left, when it comes to the nuts and bolts of how the guild operates, it’s decidedly under the worst type of conservative principles — protect what you’ve worked for; no assistance for outsiders. Knowing their reluctance to include, aid or even compete with other human writers makes it even easier to see why the guild is so threatened by machine intelligence. This type of defensive, resistant stance arises every time a disrupting technology comes along. The WGA are candlemakers cursing Edison's invention. Streetcar makers railing against Henry Ford's Model T. 

Other technologies feared as job/business-killers when they were first introduced include radio, computers, robotics and television, which many claimed would ruin the movie industry. The VCR was accused of being a copyright-infringing invention and Sony (developers of Betamax video tape recording) was sued by the movie industry, resulting in the landmark Sony Corp. of America v. Universal City Studios, Inc. decision that ultimately allowed home video recording to proceed and proliferate. Ironically, the movie industry benefited because by the very next year, home video sales were about the same as box office revenue -- and by 1995 more than half of Hollywood's American revenue came from home video, compared to less than a quarter from movie theaters. 

In nearly every instance, "offending" technologies simply cannot be held back and doom-predictors are forced to watch as the world simply adapts. For example, during the 1980's robotics (as many feared) did replace a large volume of factory workers. But this was offset to some degree by new jobs that were created for people to build, program and maintain robotic systems and equipment. But the larger point is that technological advancement always moves forward. Today, every major factory and manufacturing facility in the world uses robotics simply because it's a faster, more efficient, and more affordable way to do things

Here's perhaps the best example of fear of technology and the futility of it. When the MP3 was introduced back in 1990’s (and soon after peer-to-peer file sharing via the internet) what was the response of the music industry?… Panic, resistance, and litigation. Music companies took both purveyors of peer-to-peer technology to court. At the same time, they bullied (via injunctions, subpoenas and other court orders) ISPs into turning over the names of people who had downloaded copyrighted music, cherry picked handfuls and sued them. In some instances, it was unknowing parents of offending teenagers who were slapped with lawsuits. Meanwhile, heavy metal group Metallica also sued and then loudly raged against its own fans, labeling them criminals for "stealing music." Facing months, if not years, of costly litigation, Napster, which at the time stood at the forefront of peer-to-peer file sharing technology, was forced to shutter its operations. 


But once again attempts to suppress technology through lawsuits and other means failed. When Napster shut down, dozens of similar peer-to peer-companies and apps sprung up to take its place, including Grokster, Bearshare, LimeWire and Kazaa. At the same time, Demonoid, Pirate Bay and other torrent sites saw heavy user increase. Most of these companies were similarly targeted, sued and shut down — but not before ducking and dodging the music companies’ cease and desist orders long enough to contribute to the massive proliferation of music sharing worldwide. Looking back, a whirlwind of wrath, acrimony and confusion was born of the simple fact that music companies believed a new technology lessened their power and threatened their livelihood. And yes, it was true; thanks to peer-to-peer, music lovers suddenly had the power to listen before they bought -- or circumvent buying altogether and download a song (or an entire an album) in just a few seconds. Instead of sharing an album by burning CDs for their friends, they could (in seconds) instantly send a copy of that same album to literally anyone in the world. It was the power the new technology provided. It now existed -- and there was no going back.


Now what the Hollywood writers need to understand is that the impasse between the music industry and peer-to-peer tech didn't begin to get resolved until music companies focused less on protesting, resisting and hiring lawyers, and instead got down to the hard work of establishing new business models that figured out ways to exist alongside peer-to-peer and provide alternatives that gave consumers some of the same benefits the technology provided -- while still protecting artists, their copyrights and intellectual property. In other words, things were resolved only when the establishment, instead of working to limit the use of technology, acknowledged and built new strategies to remain relevant, necessary and preferable in the face of it. The result was iTunes, which gave music companies a distribution service that consumers could use to legally purchase music so artists and labels could be properly compensated. Did this solve the issue entirely?…  Of course not. “Pirating” music remains a problem even to this day -- but iTunes (which evolved into Apple Music) and the rapid development of music streaming services like Spotify and Pandora only cane about with the acceptance, support and investment of the music industry. 



The same thing needs to happen with AI and the WGA. Instead of asking for promises that have zero chance of being kept -- like AI-produced work never being used as source material (how could anyone ever be sure if something was written by AI or not?) -- the guild should accept AI and look to leverage it in ways that enhance but in no way replace the human writer. Is anyone at this point entirely sure what those ways are?... No. AI applied to writing and the creative world is still much too new. But once fear is put aside things tend to get figured out. 


The Hollywood writers have to understand that AI is a lot like Cliff Notes. When it comes to literature, Cliff Notes are in no way the equal of reading the book itself but, as millions of high school and college students can attest, they are still extremely helpful as a guide or aid. Similarly, AI is not the equal of a human writer -- but it can research, brainstorm, spark ideas, and augment. In this way, AI can today perform many of tasks of a "writer's assistant." A good example is a way I myself used AI recently. I have a screenplay that includes a character named Marcus Washington who longs to be a hip-hop artist. He's a supporting character and his musical aspirations are really only relevant in one scene. Still, I needed a stage name for him. Instead of wracking my brain and slowing down my process of creating the plot points, action and dialogue that actually drives the story forward, I had ChatGPT spitball some rap names. The results ("MC Dubz", "Wash Money", etc.) were perfectly usable placeholders. So even though at the time I chose to press forward onto more important things, whenever I do come back and decide on Marcus's stage name, the AI suggestions have helped by getting my brain going. 

AI though has far more writing capability than simply tossing out prospective character names. It can create storylines, inciting incidents, dialogue, parentheticals, and more -- all within the parameters set forth by a detailed, well thought out, well articulated prompt. And this may be where the Hollywood writers' biggest fears lie. Not that AI will be used to perform research or (as with my example above) to brainstorm things of minimal consequence. Rather, that in the very near future, it will be executing at such a level that its work will be indistinguishable from that of human writer. But just as teachers and professors can't stop students from taking short cuts by using Cliff Notes, there's essentially nothing that can be done to ensure the elimination of AI in the writing process. Like with Cliff Notes and peer-to-peer, the light bulb, Model T, and practically every other technological innovation, there's simply too much convenience and time and cost savings to be had. Putting limits on the use of AI would be like asking someone to research a paper without using the internet.. catch a bus instead of driving... or stitch by hand instead of using a sewing machine.

Yet these kinds of limitations are exactly what the WGA is insisting upon. Their worry about artificial intelligence in their profession is so great in fact, that they are making demands that their work never to be used to train AI. In other words, if the WGA gets their way, Open AI, as well as all other AI developers, would not be able to use the writers' screenplays, teleplays, transcripts and the like for AI to subsume in order to improve its performance. 

The idea of the WGA asking for this is laughable on so many levels. First, because there's no actual way to prevent it from happening. Let's face it, the writers' work is out there and (though it remains copyrighted) available for public consumption to such a large degree that it cannot be realistically withheld from AI -- or any other person, machine, webcrawler, etc. The final shooting script (or at the very least a transcription) of practically every popular film from the last several decades is available and relatively easy to find online. Many other screenplays have been officially published in book form. (Bugsy and Pulp Fiction are just two that are sitting on my bookshelf right now.) Plus, as of today no one outside of Open AI is even sure of how exactly ChatGPT is trained anyway, nor all of the sources it draws from for learning, which essentially eliminates any possibility of removing WGA-created content from the training mix.

But the other reason withholding WGA work from AI is ludicrous is because it simply defies the nature of human creativity, learning and improvement. It would be like Maya Angelou insisting that other poets not be allowed to read or study her work. Or Paul McCartney attempting to prevent other musicians from studying the chord progressions of his Beatles' songs. Or Rembrandt prohibiting other artists from viewing his paintings up close for fear of them replicating his brushstrokes. It simply sounds dumb right of the gate. With little effort, anyone at all can find (and study) all of the examples cited above (Maya Angelou's words, Lennon/McCartney's chord progressions, Rembrandt's paintings) via hundreds of websites, YouTube videos, the public library, and countless other sources. More importantly, creative artists would never attempt to exclude a human being from accessing, analyzing and studying what they've published/produced -- so clearly the WGA's objection to their output being used to train AI stems from the possibility that Chat GPT's ever-growing intelligence could emulate and rival the writers' work to the point where it becomes preferable to studios and production execs.

Fears abound of where AI is headed and how quickly it will advance. We've all seen The Matrix and Terminator movies that imagine dystopian futures where machines or computer systems grow so intelligent they become sentient and ultimately replace, enslave or eradicate their human creators. It could be that it's not just science fiction. Experts in the field, including Open AI CEO Sam Altman, are already warning that AI could pose an existential threat to humanity. Leading AI expert and ethicist Professor Simon Goldstein even went so far as to say that "AI researchers don't understand the machines they've created very well, so there is a chance we will not be able to completely control their goals. If their goals conflict with our own and they are more intelligent than us, then it is possible that over time they will ultimately replace us as the dominant form of life on this planet.

The risk of this type of future (one straight out of science fiction) may be unavoidable. But human history repeatedly shows us that technology always moves forward and progress can’t be stopped. The much more likely scenario is that the sky is NOT falling and AI technology will have far less of a disastrous impact on both human existence and the entertainment writing industry than many may think. In the future, if we all embrace and learn the right ways to leverage it, ultimately AI will simply do what technology does -- fulfill its fundamental purpose of making humans and our society more efficient and more productive... The sooner the WGA realizes all this, the better.

May 14, 2023

In Redefining the Erotic Thriller Basic Instinct Also Changed the Face of Home Video


Basic Instinct, which hit theaters in March of 1992, was one of the most noteworthy and influential film releases of the decade. For starters the screenplay, written by Joe Eszterhas, touched off a Hollywood bidding war before finally being sold for an eye-popping $3 million. The early 90's was a unique time in the filmmaking industry when writers like Shane Black (The Last Boy Scout, The Long Kiss Goodnight), Tom Schulman (Medicine Man), and  Eszterhas (Jade) were inexplicably paid exorbitant amounts of money by studios for scripts that were far more run-of-the-mill than they were novel, unique or high concept. Nevertheless, the Basic Instinct sale broke records and the film's success sparked yet another career resurgence for star Michael Douglas. Topping that, co-lead Sharon Stone owes her entire career to Basic Instinct. The actress had been languishing around Hollywood for close to a decade, unable to make a mark beyond starring in feeble offerings like King Solomon's Mines, Police Academy 4 and Blood and Sand. But Stone found a champion in Basic Instinct director Paul Verhoeven, who had previously worked with her in the 1990 big budget sci-fi effort Total Recall. As femme fatale Lori, wife of Arnold Schwarzenegger's character, Stone crushed in what was her first meaty Hollywood role. Additionally, Total Recall and Basic Instinct had the same production company (Carolco) and distributor (Tri-Star Pictures) so those relationships and Stone's previous work with Verhoeven almost certainly helped her land the part of Catherine Tramell in Basic Instinct. Afterwards, Stone's career took off. Her next two roles were another erotic thriller, Sliver (for which she received top billing and a hefty paycheck) and the Sly Stallone vehicle The Specialist, where she appears in steamy (no pun intended) shower and love scenes. By mid-decade Stone was wearing the crown as the sexiest actress in Hollywood and had earned a Golden Globe Award and Oscar nomination for Casino -- all resulting from the springboard Basic Instinct provided.

But of course what Basic Instinct is best known for is its highly sexualized plot and subject matter. Catherine Tramell, we discover, is bisexual and though the film took criticism at the time from the gay community for portraying her as a heartless killer, Basic Instinct deserves praise for having the guts to include a powerful and unashamedly LGB antagonist. 

Beyond Tramell's sexual preferences, Basic Instinct's focus on sexuality, violence and general sordidness went to levels reminiscent of film noir -- a particular style of American filmmaking (generally considered to have originated in the 1940's) that features a cinematic focus on cynicism, crime, moral corruption and other "dark", unseemly sides of society.  Basic Instinct's story is rife with drug use, stalking, deceit, manipulation, murder and psychological torture, And of course no punches are pulled when it comes to sexual content. In addition to sex scenes as graphic as anything found to that point in an A-list Hollywood feature, there's bondage, sexual assault, and of course Stone's infamous leg-crossing, vagina-revealing interrogation scene.

Moviegoers loved every bit of it and Basic Instinct became a rare spring hit and the fourth highest grossing film of the year. Producers, writers and studio execs noted the film's success and (in the typical fashion of what we know is a copycat industry) began cranking out Basic Instinct clones. In no time at all, Hollywood had fully embraced this new iteration of the movie sub-genre known as "erotic thrillers." Body of Evidence, Consenting Adults, Whispers in the Dark, Sliver and Malice were all released within the year and a half following Basic Instinct but these films certainly can't be considered the first in the genre. Tattoo, Dressed to Kill, Body Heat, Sea of Love, Body Double and Jagged Edge (also written by Eszterhas) from the 1980's, as well as Love Crimes, Under Suspicion and Final Analysis (all released just prior to Basic Instinct) all certainly qualify as erotic thrillers. But what Basic Instinct achieved was to take the core elements of the genre -- danger, suspense, morally ambiguous or outright sociopathic characters, storylines full of plot twists, shadowy cinematography -- and inject it with ultra-heightened levels of sensuality and sexual content. In this way, Basic Instinct raised the bar for the erotic thriller and filmmakers working in the genre began engaging in battles of "can you top this?" as they scripted and shot their films. S&M, group sex, voyeurism and other areas of sexual exploration where Hollywood films had previously only treaded lightly, were now on full display in major productions. From Body of Evidence's infamous Madonna/Willem Dafoe candle wax scene, to Bound, with its focus on the lesbian relationship between the two protagonists, the envelope of explicit sexual content found in erotic thrillers was being pushed further and further.

But of course there's only so far theatrical releases can go in terms of graphic nudity, sex scenes and the like, and only so much A-list talent will agree to. Studios and distributors still had MPAA ratings to consider (Basic Instinct, in fact, had barely dodged the dreaded NC-17.) These factors and the ever-increasing prurient appeal of erotic thrillers led to an explosion of titles made by smaller production companies and then released by independent distributors (or subdivisions of major ones) directly into the home video markets. VHS rentals, cable channels in need of content and (later) the brand new DVD format (first introduced in 1996) gave film distributors viable alternatives for any erotic thrillers that pushed the envelope too far or otherwise weren't suitable for theaters. What's more, erotic thrillers quickly proved to be among the most-watched and most-rented titles. For example, Color of Night (with Bruce Willis and Jane March) flopped upon its release in 1995 but was one of the most rented movies of the year thanks to word of mouth about its explicit sex scenes. Soon a new paradigm was established: script and produce an erotic thriller on the cheap using B- and C-list talent; make it as sexually explicit as you can; combine a titillating adjective (“Indecent”, “Animal”, “Carnal”) with a provocative noun (“Sins”, “Desire”, “Instinct”) for the film's title, then skip theaters entirely and find distribution on late night cable and/or go straight to DVD.

Indeed, this strategy worked so well that for the entirety of the 1990's, home video and cable were glutted with racy films like Sins of Desire, Animal Instincts, Scorned, Night Eyes, Illicit Dreams and Indecent Behavior. These and dozens of other low budget erotic thrillers heavy on sexual intrigue and nudity would soon become go-to after-10PM programming on Showtime, Cinemax (or “Skin-e-max”, as it came to be known) and other cable channels. Truth be told, features like these kept a lot of folks in the movie industry employed for close to a decade and what's more, many of the actresses who starred in these films gained measures of fame for their sexy portrayals and softcore sex scenes. Even today, close to thirty years later, Shannon Tweed, Tane McClure, Maria Ford, Joan Severance and others are recognized and celebrated for their contributions to the erotic thriller sub-genre.

Early 2000's releases like Original Sin, In the Cut and the well-reviewed Mulholland Drive and Unfaithful were some of Hollywood's final entries as the golden age of the erotic thriller wound down. Nevertheless, today you can still find scores of erotic thrillers on the various streaming platforms. Most still adhere to the rules of old paradigm (low budget, B-list talent, no theatrical release, etc.) and only occasionally do you see movies' biggest names revisiting the genre. Still, it's important to remember that in the 1990's many of the decade's most successful actors, actresses and directors (Demi Moore, Kim Basinger, Bruce Willis, Richard Gere, Julianne Moore, Gwyneth Paltrow, Wolfgang Peterson, Phillip Noyce, Barry Levinson and many more) all took swings at the plate with erotic thrillers – and all were looking to duplicate the grand slam home run that was Basic Instinct.

Related Posts:
The Greatest Softcore Actresses of the Home Video Era

August 15, 2022

Return of the Streaming Wars!


Here is the 4th entry in my ongoing series of audio blogs tracking the streaming industry. I cover all the important news, financials, business deals (and content) for all the major players -- Netflix, Amazon Prime, HBO Max, Paramount + and more! In this episode I discuss:

  • Whether theater moviegoing is back and how this might affect the streaming industry

  • The controversial redefining of what exactly constitutes a "stream"

  • How Nielsen is failing in its efforts to accurately track and report viewership

  • Why Apple TV+ badly needs more content

  • Netflix's crackdown on account sharing

  • Disney+'s $887 million operating loss in Q1

Return of the Streaming Wars (Episode 4)



September 1, 2021

What Happened in the Physical Writer's Room?


Just to be clear, this is not a review. I don't do reviews of TV shows, movies, music or anything else creative. It's because I have far too much respect for artists and know firsthand that practically anyone can write an article, speak on a podcast, etc., about what someone else has created. It takes far more talent, discipline and courage to create something from nothing and then (if you're one of the lucky ones) put it out there for consumption and inevitable critique. So yeah, this is not a review; this is just someone wondering what happened with Physical's Annie Weisman and the other show creators/writers that would result in the series taking such drastic turns (beginning with episode 5) that it makes you wonder if the series was threatened with cancellation unless big changes took place. A quick recap:

Physical traces Sheila Rubin (Rose Byrne) a middle-aged housewife in 1980s San Diego who discovers aerobics as a source of empowerment and escape from her eating disorder, troubled marriage to a failed college professor turned politician, and everything else wrong in her life. I very much wanted to like this show having lived in San Diego, followed Rose Byrne since her American breakout role in Troy, and have deep affection for almost all things 80s -- so this premise piqued my interest and I was able to  breeze through Physical's first season in a matter of days.

But for what is billed as a "comedy/drama", Physical plays like a depressing, oftentimes enraging show that breaks one of the golden rules of storytelling -- your protagonist must elicit empathy. In other words, we have to care about, share (or at the very least, understand) the feelings of the main character. Sheila Rubin should be someone that you root for and instead, you more or less despise everything she does, everything she says, and (through an ongoing narrative device the show uses) everything she thinks as well. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is because Sheila Rubin is one of the worst people in the world -- self-serving, jealous, manipulative, negligent, two-faced, deceitful, and a bad wife and mother to boot.

Now by no means am I saying that every TV protagonist needs to be likable. There are far-worse flawed, even despicable characters that we've rooted for, despite the fact that they were drug kingpins (Breaking Bad's Walter White), crime bosses (Tony Soprano), serial killers (Dexter's Dexter Morgan) or just all around ruthless criminals (Animal Kingdom's Cody family.) But the difference is that all of these antiheroes have something redeemable about their actions and agendas. Walter White dives headlong into drug trafficking to provide for his wife, son and unborn child; Dexter's killings can be argued justifiable because he's (mostly) just offing the guilty; and Tony Soprano and the Cody's -- for all their reckless violence, murder and mayhem -- exhibit a family first trust and loyalty that's at least somewhat admirable.

In contrast, Sheila's only agenda is herself. At one point, she declares "aerobics saved me." But with every selfish, immoral decision she makes, it seems much more like the opposite is true -- aerobics didn't save Sheila; she's sold her soul for it. She's that character you love to hate -- like the WWE's Iron Sheik or J.R. Ewing from Dallas -- except unlike those two characters, it's not by design.

On the contrary, after a few episodes, shouldn't I be in Sheila's corner, earnestly hoping she actually makes something of her budding career? Shouldn't I be against all the people and circumstances standing in her way?... Instead, I'm at the point where I prefer that Sheila fail, as it becomes more and more clear what a horrible person she already is and is further becoming by the episode. What has Sheila done to deserve such contempt? Well so far she's:
  • Blackmailed her business partner Bunny...
  • Repeatedly abandoned her husband Danny and their efforts for him to win election to state legislature...
  • Cooked the books and embezzled money from the aforementioned political campaign...
  • Rationalized stealing from both her friend Greta and from an old ballet teacher...
  • Extorted money from her parents...
  • Drained the family bank account to pay for hotel rooms so she can better hide her eating disorder... 
  • Ignored her young daughter who is obviously autistic

And on top of all that, she's now about to cheat on her husband with John Breem, one of Danny's political opponents.

It begs the question, who exactly is the villain on Physical? With the exception of Breem (with his ultra-weird Mitt Romney meets Marshall Applewhite persona) you like every single other character on this show more than you like Sheila. And with every non-sequitur plot twist and character change, this becomes truer and truer.

Which brings us back to my topic sentence... What the hell happened in the writers room on this show? Because it seems like halfway through season 1, the executive producers or other highly influential persons connected to the show threw a grenade in that room and ran. It's one explanation for why (beginning with episode 5) Physical began a slew of inexplicable and extreme plot twists, awkward character expansions and gratuitous backstory reveals that would have the writers of Melrose Place cringing. Some examples:

  • The subplot of Greta's husband's fetish for shaving women's heads (and Greta -- who up to this point had been established as a conservative, mousey housewife -- surprisingly choosing to indulge her husband's freaky sexual desire.)
  • Deep diving into John Breem's ultra-stoic, hyper-religious personality and his weird personal life, including his Stepford Wives-ish spouse and family.
  • Tyler's (Bunny's surfer boyfriend) health crisis.
  • Bunny's seemingly added at the last minute backstory of having immigrated from war-torn Lebanon and being estranged from her family.
  • Sheila's revelation of being sexually abused as a child by one of her father's friends (which, I'm sorry, but at this point, is as trite a plot twist as there is.)
It's not just that all of these new elements were jammed into the show's final episodes, it's that they were introduced so clumsily, with almost no build-up or foreshadowing. Bunny has a friction-filled get together with her sister in episode 5 that comes out of nowhere. Til then, Bunny comes off as a typical soCal bottle blond who exists simply to both challenge and assist Sheila's aerobics aspirations. There's no hint at all that she's Lebanese. Not that TV characters can't be developed or have new dimensions added as a series unfolds, but after episode 5, where Bunny has that contentious meeting with her sister and they discuss how they escaped Beirut, we get zilch. We see or hear nothing else about Bunny's family drama or Lebanon for the rest of the season. 

Other plot points (Danny's infidelity; Sheila's hatred for Danny's campaign manager) are executed less awkwardly and have an appropriate slow build, so when the powder keg finally blows, it will be all the more effective in amping up the drama. But again, it's as if the show's exec producers (which include Rose Byrne) took a pause from filming and said, "Guys, we need to shake things up. How can we make the supporting characters more interesting? Believability and being true to the natures of the characters we've built to this point be damned! We need some shocking reveals and we only have five episodes left to deliver!"


And through it all, Sheila grows less and less sympathetic. The worse was in the season finale. Danny loses the election and we hear Sheila's hateful, venom-filled thoughts about him. "Cant even pull off a local election. This is what you've tied yourself to... He's just a loser; a weak pathetic loser." 

The inner monologue continues and turns into another of Sheila's frequent self-loathing sessions, as she (yet again) abandons Danny at a moment he needs her and instead heads off to the aerobics studio. The shows writers will probably tell you that the entire sequence is supposed to be a turning point in Sheila's life. She's finally "taking back her power", unhitching her wagon from dead weight, and breaking free so she can pursue her own dream and establish an identity beyond that of the faithful wife (which by the way, she has been at no point during the series.)

But that interpretation/explanation would work much better if Danny was a selfish, abusive, ungrateful asshole of a husband. Instead, apart from his dalliance with one of his former students (and maybe force-feeding Sheila a cream puff), the worst thing you can say about him is that he's overly naive and idealistic. Moreover, there are several moments where he praises his wife, calls her his muse and his rock, and declares that none of the good things happening with the campaign would be possible without her. In short, Danny is a far less flawed, far more supportive (and thus more likable) character than Sheila and I genuinely hoped he'd win the election. With Sheila, as she connives and schemes new ways to grow her aerobics business -- while simultaneously disregards her daughter walking in circles, throwing fits, and suffering from sensory overload (all classic signs of autism) -- I find myself just hoping the neighbors don't hear as I scream at the TV, "You are such an awful person! Get your daughter some help for God's sake!"

And all of this, every shortcoming this show has, is all due to bad writing and poor plotting and characterization. It makes one wonder why such obvious deficiencies weren't corrected before episodes began filming. Maybe it was because at the time Physical came across Apple +'s path, the streamer was playing catch up in the streaming wars and so badly needed content that everyone was willing to overlook the fact that the show's scripts needed doctoring. 

Or maybe it was the collective clout of Weisman and Byrne, combined with a Times Up-inspired climate that was encouraging more greenlighting of women-focused shows not only at Apple + but across the entire television landscape. 

Or maybe Apple + just likes poorly written shows. The Morning Show, another one of Apple's flagship series, suffers terribly from heavy handed dialogue and stereotypical characterizations

Oh well, on to season 2. (Because 80s!)


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July 15, 2021

Streaming Wars Update: Part 3


Here's the the third and final part of my audio blog on the streaming wars, the state of the industry and where it's headed. In this discussion I cover:
  • The history of Hulu and it's current place in the Disney bundle
  • Roku's revenue shifts from hardware to advertising after its acquisition of the Quibi content
  • AMC, studios, theater owners, and Christopher Nolan all have beef
  • The Scarlett Johanssen lawsuit
  • What the streaming industry can learn from Napster

Streaming Wars Update: Part 3


July 14, 2021

Streaming Wars Update: Part 2

The second part of my audio blog covering the current state of the streaming wars. Have a listen as I discuss:

  • Apple +'s enviable position "owning the rails"
  • CBS/Viacom's Paramount + and its need for a consolidation strategy 
  • Whether sports content could be a key differentiator to thrust one or more streamers to the top
  • How tier-based pricing and advertising are being implemented 
  • If Comcast and NBC Universal can leverage its cable platform and theme parks to market struggling latecomer Peacock (and its weird new original that conjures memories of Josie and the Pussycats in Outer Space!)

Streaming Wars Update: Part 2



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July 13, 2021

Streaming Wars in Full Effect!


Give a listen to my first "audio blog" as I take a look at what's happening in the world of streaming, trends in the industry, who the major players are, their financial outlooks and plans for the future, and all the changes affecting the entire streaming world. Here in Part 1, among other things I discuss:
  • How the pandemic ignited the streaming industry
  • The bundling of streaming apps with mobile phones, TVs and other smart devices
  • Amazon Prime, it's acquisition of MGM, and massive investment in Lord of the Rings
  • Netflix's position as first in the market
  • Disney +'s Star Wars and MCU-based platform (How many spin-offs are enough?)
  • HBO Max's controversial same-day new release strategy

Streaming Wars in Full Effect!


June 17, 2009

The Evolution of the 80's Teen Movie - How Bob Clark, Gen X, and Home Video Changed the Landscape of American Cinema - Part II

Below is Part 2 of a three-part article. If you missed Part 1, you can read it here.

In the 1970s, cable television was largely relegated to rural or mountainous areas where home reception of broadcast television signals was difficult if not impossible. However, the 1980’s saw an explosion of American households in urban areas gaining access to cable television. During the decade, the number of cable TV households in the U.S. more than tripled, from 17% in 1978 to 57% by 1989. The growth of cable television was greatly fueled by the development of premium movie channels (like HBO, Showtime, Cinemax and The Movie Channel) and the continuous slate of popular films they offered. Prior to cable television, once a film completed its theatrical run, it was usually years before it made its way to network television where, if the film was exceedingly popular, it might be broadcast twice a year. Meanwhile, as cable television was beginning to boom, sales of home videocassette recorders were spiking, thanks in large part to the American consumers’ resolution of the VHS vs Betamax issue and the Supreme Court ruling that home video recording was, in fact, legal and not a violation of copyright. (You can read the Court’s ruling here.)


In 1982, only 4% of American households owned a VCR. By 1988, the figure had reached 60%. No doubt, Americans were enamored with the VCR for its fundamental functionality that allowed one to record a show and then watch it later. But in addition to being able to “timeshift” their TV watching, VCR owners were also excited that they could now enjoy feature movies in the comfort of their homes, whenever they wanted. In response, Hollywood studios began scrambling to form home video distribution divisions for the huge catalogs of movie titles they owned. Concurrently, as these studios implemented the technologies, sales, marketing, and delivery methods needed to ready their pictures for public consumption on videocassette, large video rental chains (Blockbuster, West Coast Video, and others) were founded and fiercely competed with each other, along with the small mom and pop dealers that were springing up on every corner. Thus, between cable and home video, Americans now had the ability to see complete, unedited recent hits (Chariots of Fire, Taps, Kramer vs Kramer, Foul Play, War Games, Close Encounters, Poltergeist) that were long gone from cinemas but hadn’t made it to network TV quite yet. Fine films that were overlooked during their initial theatrical releases (Nighthawks, Blade Runner) were "discovered", as were cult and foreign films like Harold and Maude and Cat People. And of course, popular comedies like Arthur, Smokey and the Bandit, 9 to 5, Cannonball Run, and 10 were watched repeatedly and their laughs enjoyed over and over again. Studio executives quickly realized that a film’s success at the box office was no longer the sole factor determining whether or not their releases could be impactful and profitable. Films could now be remarketed (or in some cases, bundled as a group) and sold for broadcast on basic and premium cable TV channels. As this was taking place, market research began to show that a large part of the audience for cable TV movies (particularly repeat viewings of these movies) were high school and college youth, who had ample amounts of free time on their hands to sit around watching their favorite films. (On a side note, it’s clear that the American pop culture phenomenon of quoting movie lines first began with these teens of the 1980's who would watch (and re-watch ad nauseum), memorize and repeat dialog from 80's cable TV staples like Blazing Saddles, Caddyshack, Animal House, Stripes, and Airplane.) 


When studio brass saw their films' viewer ratings and the corresponding audience demographics, a concerted effort was made to unshelve or acquire rights to (or otherwise script, shoot and release new) content that appealed to this key “Generation X” demographic -- and that content consisted largely of teen movies. 

America, and particularly Hollywood, was soon completely enamored with the teen movie genre. The profit margin (box office receipts now combined with cable TV revenues) of movies like Porky’s, Private Lessons, Homework, and The Last American Virgin proved very attractive to production companies and their investors. Particularly attractive were the low-budgets these films offered -- typically under $10 million and often less than half that. Teen actors almost always worked cheaply, as most were happy just to have a role in a Hollywood feature. Principal photography took place in cheap locales (malls, high schools), props were simple and inexpensive, and shooting schedules tight. Screenplays could be written quickly, with writers tapping into their own teenage experience (real or imagined) for material. 

Soon, filmmakers exploring the teen movie genre became more creative. Writers and directors began to acknowledge there was more to teenage life than the neverending quest to get laid and began to make films that explored other aspects of contemporary youth. Amy Heckerling’s Fast Times at Ridgemont High, though it failed to do much business upon its release in late summer of 1982, was nonetheless praised for it’s dead on depiction of contemporary teenage culture, customs, and mores. Much has been written about how screenwriter Cameron Crowe, in his attempts to make his script more authentic, went undercover at a southern California high school. But what’s more important is that it resulted in a teen movie rife with identifiable characters that, in between laughs, are dealing with real issues and scenarios. Let’s face it, as high schoolers, very few of us were seduced by our friend’s mom, road-tripped to a Mexican whorehouse, or wore dresses and makeup to sneak into an all-girls school. What was great about Fast Times was that the characters were placed in situations, some comical (Brad fantasizing about Linda while he watches her poolside) and some serious (Stacy’s pregnancy and subsequent abortion) that most of us, as teenagers, either went through ourselves, or knew someone who had. 

In short, Fast Times at Ridgemont High resonated as the first authentic teen movie. Yes, there are secondary storylines involving Brad’s job woes and the antics of the now famous Jeff Spicoli. But while most teen films up until this time relied on an anecdotal series of gross humor and sexual gags to sustain their momentum, Fast Times, at its core, gave us a lovable, empathetic central character (Stacy) and a more meaningful and realistic series of events involving her search for a boyfriend and her relationships with her brother, and friends Linda, Damone, and Rat. 

The legitimization of the teen movie continued in 1983 with Martha Coolidge’s sentimental Valley Girl, and Paul Brickman’s Risky Business, which broke the teen movie mold with its Revolutionary Road and The Graduate-like themes of rebellion against the supposed American dream of life in the suburbs, attending an Ivy League college, and landing a high paying corporate job. 


Risky Business
also set itself apart from other teen movies with its artful cinematography (Lana’s first appearance; the train sequence) and an ethereal original score by Tangerine Dream that proved a big departure from the typical teen movie soundtrack full of contemporary pop and new wave hits. Still, while the well-received Risky Business and a handful of other films did much to establish credibility for teen movies, the unequivocal validation of the genre came with Francis Ford Coppola’s The Outsiders

Oklahoma-born S.E. Hinton’s first novel The Outsiders, chronicles the experiences of Pony Boy Curtis, a teenage “greaser” growing up in Tulsa, struggling with the death of his parents and searching for meaning in his life. In a period where juvenile comedies like Joysticks were in abundance, The Outsiders offered a serious and genuine examination of teen angst (similar to Rebel Without a Cause) as it explored themes like loyalty, friendship, jealousy, class warfare, and parental neglect. Interestingly, one of Hinton’s later novels, Tex, had previously been made into a feature film directed by Tim Hunter and starring Matt Dillon. Tex, though, was barely noticed upon its release in the summer of 1982. Not the case when production began on The Outsiders. Director Francis Ford Coppola had won two Best Director Oscars for The Godfather and The Godfather Part II, and also helmed the critically acclaimed Apocalypse Now. As a result, the director had ascended to the pantheon of America’s greatest living filmmakers, so when he signed on to shoot The Outsiders, Hollywood took notice. Every young actor in the business pressed their agent to get them an audition for the film. Indeed, with a respected director like Coppola now working in the genre, teen movies now had Hollywood’s official seal of approval. 

The Outsiders firmly established that teen movies could successfully extend beyond comedy so Hollywood quickly began cranking out more teen dramas (Racing with the Moon, All the Right Moves, Rumble Fish) and expanding teen movies into other genres like thrillers (The Boys Next Door, Out of Control) and horror (A Nightmare On Elm Street, Fright Night.)


But of course, what most of us remember The Outsiders for is that incredible cast of young actors, all completely unknown at the time, and each of whom would go on to become a bonafide movie star. Credit Coppola and casting director Janet Hirshenson (who incidentally, is still at the top of her profession -- she cast this summer's Angels and Demons, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen and G.I. Joe) with recognizing the talent and charisma of Dillon, Ralph Macchio, Patrick Swayze, Rob Lowe, Emilio Estevez, Tom Cruise, C. Thomas Howell, and Diane Lane. Within two years of The Outsiders release, each would be a lead actor with above the title billing. This group would go on to star in some of the most popular and signature films of the decade, including The Karate Kid, The Breakfast Club, Top Gun, Dirty Dancing, and Rain Man. Like American Graffiti, which ten years earlier had kickstarted the careers of Richard Dreyfuss, Harrison Ford, Suzanne Somers and others, The Outsiders served as a launching pad for some of the coming decades' biggest stars.

Next: Part III - The Brat Pack and the Legacy of 80s Teen Movie

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May 22, 2009

The Evolution of the 80s Teen Movie - How Bob Clark, Gen X, and Home Video Changed the Landscape of American Cinema

Part I

There was a time when Hollywood wasn’t producing very many movies about or starring young people. From the mid-50s (with films like Rebel Without a Cause and The Blackboard Jungle) all the way through the 1970s, only a handful of pictures were being made featuring teenagers (or early twentysomethings) in starring roles. Typically, rather than offering an examination of young people’s lives (in either a real or imagined way) these films were quick, lightweight attempts to cash in on a young star’s presumably limited fame and box office appeal. This was most evident during the 1970s when Jodie Foster, after her strong performance as a 12-year-old prostitute in Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver, went on to appear in the saccharine Disney family-comedy Freaky Friday, and the gimmicky Bugsy Malone, a gangster movie spoof featuring an all children’s cast. 

In other instances, teenagers appearing in feature films were mainly there to support established adult box office stars. Tatum O’Neal, for example, gained fame after her Academy Award-winning performance alongside her father Ryan in Peter Bogdonavich’s Paper Moon. Moreoverthrough the remainder of the decade Tatum's best roles were in The Bad News Bears with Walter Matthau, International Velvet, opposite heavyweights Christopher Plummer and Anthony Hopkins, and the disappointing Nickelodeon (1976), once again starring Tatum’s father (along with the country’s number one leading man at the time, Burt Reynolds.) 

Most of the aforementioned films from Foster, O’Neal and other young actors judged worthy of "above title" billing -- e.g., Kristy McNichol (Little Darlings, The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia), Scott Baio (Bugsy Malone, Skatetown, USA), and Brooke Shields (Tilt, Just You and Me Kid) -- were box office and/or critical failures. As a result, Hollywood remained hesitant to script and produce films that explored the world of teenagers in a meaningful way. In an era where most of the top production executives were holdovers from the Hollywood’s old studio system, “star power” was still something of a prerequisite for getting pictures green-lighted and “kid actors” were viewed as not having enough of it to be anything more than risky box office draws. Case in point, even when casting the (what would prove to be wildly successful) frat comedy Animal House, the filmmakers turned to 30-year-olds Tim Matheson and Peter Riegert, and the established 29-year old star of Saturday Night Live, John Belushi, to portray the college-age protagonists. 

But as the 1980s rolled in, Hollywood’s attitude towards writing and producing films about young people (and examining their lives and experiences using real teen actors) was about to change -- and the film that would initiate this change would prove be a most unlikely entry.


Porky’s was a low-budget high school comedy written and directed by Bob Clark, a 40-year-old Hollywood veteran whose best known work had been as a writer for The Dukes of Hazzard TV series. Porky’s was produced for a meager $4 million, but would prove to be groundbreaking in a number of ways, including its subject matter. Unabashedly raunchy, even by today’s standards, Porky’s follows a group of high school boys as they play practical jokes on each other, spy on the cheerleaders in the shower, and torment the girls phys ed teacher, Miss Ballbricker. The story centers on the boys’ attempts to gain entry to a local strip bar and their subsequent confrontation with the bar’s owner (the eponymous "Porky".) Some of the film’s more hilarious scenes involve the guys enlisting the services of a prostitute, two gym teachers having loud sex in a laundry room, and one of the boys teasing the girls with his penis before having it nearly yanked clean off by Ballbricker. Interestingly, even amidst all this highly-charged sexual humor, Clark manages to work in a redeeming social message, as one of the boys learns a lesson about racial tolerance. 

Make no mistake however, Porky’s is first and foremost a riotous, rude comedy about a bunch of guys trying to… well… get laid -- a plot that would be repeated ad nauseum in teen films throughout the 80s, 90s, and into the next millennium. Porky’s however, was one of the very first to tread this ground, and in doing so, became a huge hit. 

Another significant aspect about the movie was the fact that it featured a cast of unknowns. Porky's box office success flew in the face of conventional wisdom by proving that when it came to the teen movie genre, star power was of little importance. On the strength of the teen and twentysomething dollar, Porky’s grossed nearly $60 million at the box office. Hollywood took notice and a fundamental philosophical shift occurred, as the already few and far between “coming of age” stories like Breaking Away (1979), Foxes (1980), and Endless Love (1981), that sought to honestly explore all sides of the teen experience, both serious and comedic, were quickly passed over (by both producers and consumers) in favor of bawdy teen sex romps. Indeed, the success of Porky’s triggered a frenzied race among production companies and major studios to cash in by duplicating the film's formula. As a result, the next two years brought a slew of Porky’s clones, most of which featured similar casts of unknowns and offered little more plot-wise than a bunch of pubescent boys out for sex. The Last American Virgin (1982), Goin’ All the Way (1982), My Tutor (1983), Private School (1983), Spring Fever (1983), Spring Break (1983) and Losin’ It (1983) are prime examples. All of these, however, failed to match the success of Bob Clark's film. 


Despite this, the new genre of the teen movie would not be short-lived, as the film industry pleasantly realized it had two additional sources of revenue for their movies—cable television and home video. These two new outlets would prove pivotal to the success of teen movies, and would fuel Hollywood’s continued exploration, expansion, and diversification of the genre through the remainder of the decade.