Well, it’s official. Hollywood is shut down.
Both the Writers and Actors Guilds are now on strike in an attempt to negotiate a fairer (and transparent) dispersal of residuals, especially from the streaming arenas which were once thought to be the savior of Hollywood — especially during the pandemic.
But the profitability and, frankly, sustainability, of these outlets in terms of subscribers, coupled with studios’ reluctance to share any objective and verifiable viewership data, has led to accusations of low-balling said residual payments, and the ever-growing threat of AI — Artificial Intelligence — to generate scripts and stories instead of human beings is only adding tension to the situation.
So, let’s talk about this, not from the perspective of a writer or actor, but from the point of view of the FANS; you know, those people who pay money to consume the movie, television show, cartoon, or video game that is written by someone and performed by someone, only to be distributed by a studio or label?
Those people.
Because I, as always, am a FAN FIRST. Everything I see, I see as a fan, then as a critic.
[And, as a frustrated creative myself, I can empathize with the WGA.)
This isn’t going to be a deep dive, because the vast majority of fans aren’t schooled in business minutiae, written a script or acted in a film.
But do not mistake that lack of experience with intelligence. Fans are not Stupid, and sometimes — especially recently — it seems as though the studios are treating them as if they lack any semblance of intellect or even common sense.
So first, let’s talk about the easiest and most prevalent piece of this puzzle: streaming.
Hell, we all love streaming. The idea that we can, as an audience, simply decide to watch a certain thing and — at the click of a button — have it in front of us is amazing. What has been clear from the outset, however, ever since Netflix lost its position as the ONLY streaming service of scale, the ability to figure out how many people are watching a particular title has been nearly impossible.
The fact that studios are now producing, distributing, and controlling the data for their own product has allowed them to present to analysts and the public — and therefore the writers and actors who create said product — whatever statistics they want in terms of raw viewership, rental charges, etc.
They hide that data and expect the WGA and SAGAFTRA (and the Directors Guild, Producers Guild, etc.) to simply take what they’re told they’ve earned.
It doesn’t take an MBA from Harvard to know that’s a pretty crappy business model, in terms of sustainability.
It has to change.
Second, let’s talk about AI.
In terms of Writing, to put it simply: AI is not CREATIVE. It is a mimic of everything that it has been programmed with or fed in terms of human-generated words, books, scripts, poems, then uses an algorithm to configure a desired output within the parameters set by the requester:
- Science Fiction – Earth-based, one alien species
- Political bent
- Story in the style of Arthur C. Clarke
- Visual descriptors in the style of Christopher Nolan
Boom! Out comes a script. A little too Clarke? Maybe tweak the request to add a bit of Harlan Ellison or Phillip K Dick and see what you get. Eventually, they’ll be able to look at the text of a scene and, with slider bars, move LEVELS of parameters A, B or C around and watch the text change IN REAL TIME in front of them.
But it’s not creative. There is no point that will be reached when, during the creative process, the AI will suddenly realize the story has veered from the original request parameters into some other territory.
Why?
Because the HUMAN MIND makes connections a computer can’t. Any individual writer’s life will inform — both consciously and subconsciously — the story they are telling and the words they use to tell it.
A machine simply cannot do that (I’m looking at you, K.E.V.I.N from She-Hulk). It has a RECORD of those experiences in terms of its learning materials, but it doesn’t FEEL those experiences. *[See footnote]
It cannot be affected by them, and so cannot truly deviate from them in truly creative ways.
In terms of Acting, the differences become a bit murkier. Deepfake technology, already in use to turn a stunt performer’s face into a movie star’s, exists. Voice mimicry exists. They can be, in isolated moments, convincing.
But what about when, in 20 years, we get a new movie starring Harrison Ford, aged 35?
A completely fake character, who looks and sounds like Ford, on screen with living, breathing actors. What to make of that?
I mean, this isn’t Performance Capture, as Ahmed Best did for George Lucas as Jar-Jar Binks, or Andy Serkis as Gollum or Caesar, but an AI-generated image of a real person, to whom they can add weight or height using character attribute sliders, whom can be made younger or older, whose hair can be styled and controlled in every single frame. A character who can be lit perfectly at every moment, who can perform any physical action necessary without a stunt person.
“But” you’ll argue, “that is already happening with superhero movies, fight scenes, and stunts that are simply too dangerous for anyone — even the most seasoned of stunt performers — to attempt.”
“Correct,” I will say.
In those moments, this seems the most prudent use of computer-generated people.
But what about when neo-Ford starts to present lines? Actual emotional dialogue? Proto-Ford didn’t do it; he’s been dead for ten years.
An AI, using all of his voice samples, is generating that dialogue, the physical words. But from where does this pseudo-Ford draw the emotion behind those words? The AI cannot feel, so it cannot be the machine. Has the algorithm been taught which inputs are classified as Tired? Sad? Happy? Excited? Weary?
Is there a database of emotional hashtags attached to the audio samples? Can the “dialogue tailor” simply sit at the sound board, watching footage, listening to the dialogue in the scene, and make tiny adjustments to it?
“It’s a little too sad,” or “add a touch of sarcasm to this line. Too much!”
That performance isn’t human. A human, in a single moment, can waver a line, break a word, change the entire meaning of a line, all in a moment that can never be replicated, because THAT MOMENT is gone. That fleeting instant of inspiration, of weakness, of realization, is gone.
That is what makes performances great, memorable… HUMAN.
The WGA was correct when it began its strike a few months ago. Without concrete ways to determine actual consumption of their work, they cannot be paid accordingly, and simply because a new way of distributing materials comes around doesn’t mean compensation isn’t to be expected.
The WGA is also correct in fighting against the use of AI.
If the purpose of Art is to reflect and influence the Human Condition, it cannot come from a machine; it must come from a Human Being.
SAG-AFTRA is correct in supporting the WGA, not simply because it is the right thing to do, but because the same issues apply to them as the Writers: residual calculations and the threat (yes, Threat) of AI.
Fans understand this, at least at a visceral level, and so will generally support this strike.
Make no mistake, however, all parties involved –Writers, Actors, and Studios — need to keep in mind what they are slowing coming to realize already: the Fans will not support bad material — no matter who writes it, performs it, or distributes it — with their hard-earned dollars.
It behooves all these parties to work toward providing Audiences with products they WANT to consume. They cannot be forced to love something; they either do or don’t.
Countless studios and franchises are being taught this, but it is up to them to learn it. And no matter how quickly or slowly the strike is resolved, they had best not forget that their primary purpose is to entertain.
If they cannot do that, there will be no money to be distributed to anyone.
Footnote:
* There are, as it turns out, literally dozens — if not hundreds — of examples of what happens if AI does become capable of feeling and creating, and it’s a heck of a lot worse for humanity than arguing about who gets how much money. Society as a whole would do well to remember that.