I
co-wrote a book published in 2003 in which I suggested that traditional movie stars – overpaid leading men and
women consistently playing charismatic roles – were about to become remnants of
a bygone era. My premise was that hyper-accelerating change was moving younger
consumers to search for the “new cool next”… knowing that trends passed quickly
by an increasingly transitory present. Stars are; they are not “next.” The
market for acting talent seemed to follow that prescription, more rapidly than
even I could imagine.
Today,
that notion of a movie star – a
leading actor whose mere presence on the marquee would be enough to open a film
– is gone. Dead. Even the biggest names have been associated with failures that
would never have happened 25 years ago. And so in recent times, the hot actors
became “character actors” – where they could create a new persona, and those who fulfilled traditional romantic leads
rapidly fell into obsolescence. The real new film stars became hot underlying
properties (best-selling books at the top of the list) with a very short list
of few iconic directors. Actors… not enough to generate a greenlight anymore.
The
biz also morphed into the world of
“celebrities,” where outrageous and over-the-top (the old meaning of that term)
personalities began to inhabit the fishbowl of reality television and
“entertainment news” programming searching for a voyeuristic audience. They
could be outspoken musical stars, lifestyle celebrities, dysfunctional but
entertaining people with too much money… whatever. They made money, but they
became merchandizing machines and fashion setters. Talent? Creativity? Not so
much. They were content fodder for a new era.
What
seemed to have changed in a digital era was just tsunami after tsunami of too
much, too often, a cluttered world of way too much choice. Content competing
with content as young faces disappeared into their smart phones. In big cities,
owning a car was giving way to Uber and Lyft, but the latest and greatest smart
phone became basic apparel. 5G capacity and driverless cars threaten to bury
young heads even more deeply into those addictive small-screen devices.
What
consumers might not see in all of this is the background of the business
itself. The macro-trend is the disappearance of smaller content suppliers, the
dominance of the biggest entities consumed within a roiling trend of mergers,
acquisitions, roll-ups, content aggregation, staggering marketing costs to rise
above the clutter, and what FastCompany.com (October 25th) calls The Death of Hollywood’s Middle Class.
The
value of individual pieces of content, with rare mega-hit exceptions, is so
fractured (there were 487 scripted television series last year!) and spread out
that even the best writers and producers are being marginalized. They are
watching profits rise in companies where masses of content are aggregated but
values drop for individual shows, often comprised of fewer episodes where even
the most successful programming is reaching an audience size that would have
resulted in instant cancellation 25 years ago.
The
indie film business, with some very minor exceptions in genres like horror, is
pretty much over. It has been consumed by heavy marketing costs and the
difficulty of competing with escapist, high production value fare with budgets
well-north of $150 million with parallel global marketing costs. However, the
big changes began well before the digital era.
Prior
to 1993, the big four broadcast networks were proscribed from owning the
dramatic shows they aired (the FCC’s so-called Fin-Syn Rule, where aftermarket
rerun rights were not controlled by the networks). When the FCC determined that
the cable universe had introduced enough competitive availability that the rule
was no longer necessary, networks of every kind began an accelerated process of
insisting that they own and control as much of the aftermarket and parallel
foreign market as they could. They wanted and increasing got complete worldwide
ownership. The smaller and mid-level content suppliers were simply squeezed out
of existence, a few willing to accept a vastly less lucrative role as
“producers for hire.” The real assets were now mostly owned and controlled by
the conglomerates.
FastCompany.com
adds some details: “In 1993, the so-called fin-syn laws, which prevented
companies from owning a production studio and a network, were abolished,
ushering in an era of consolidation that reduced competition. Around the same
time, cable television exploded, which diverted eyeballs and advertisers from
the Big Four networks, which had been the most reliable providers of job
security and good pay. In addition, most original programming on cable networks
was produced on the cheap. In 2007, a Writers Guild strike, just as the global
economic collapse began, led to a contraction from which workers have not fully
recovered. Networks slashed their budgets for lucrative overall development
deals for writers who were in any way associated with hit shows, and salaries
were slow to return to pre-downturn levels.
“Then
came the arrival of streaming, which has only accelerated the decline for
workers.
“A
Netflix innovation, such as releasing all episodes of a season all at once to
encourage binge watching, has been good for viewers, but it’s spurred an
industry-wide shift to drastically shorter seasons, from the traditional 22
episodes of broadcast networks to as few as 10 or even eight or six, which
means landing a TV gig is no longer necessarily even a full year’s work. The
tech entrants into Hollywood typically do not sell their shows to other
platforms, which means there are no syndicated reruns, and networks, feeling
the pressure to keep up, air far fewer reruns. Together, these developments
have largely ended the residuals system. Hollywood operated on the principles
of the gig economy well before it
became fashionable, and talent has relied on those supplemental payments as a
potential cushion in between jobs. (In addition, unlike in most of the creative
economy, Hollywood employment means paying out the managers, agents, and
lawyers who may have assisted you in securing it.)…
“Deep-pocketed digital players like
Netflix, Amazon, and now Apple are willing, and have the means, to pay whatever
it takes to build up their talent rosters. In the last year, Netflix has
shelled out nearly half a billion dollars to lure three showrunners who made
their names producing network TV: Shonda Rhimes (Scandal, Grey’s
Anatomy), Ryan Murphy (Glee, American Horror Story), and
Kenya Barris (Black-ish). Amazon is spending $1 billion just to produce
a Lord of the Rings prequel series.
“For everyone else, the economic
reality of TV is a struggle, and it’s not just affecting folks like [young
staff writers] who are still relatively early into their careers. The pressure
can be more acute on veterans as well. ‘It’s really hard to be a person in
their mid-career and have financial obligations and be in show business,’ says
Rob Long, whose writing and producing credits include Cheersand Kevin
Can Wait.” The big talent money is very narrowly focused now. Sure
there’s lots more in the way of writing gigs… with vastly less earning
potential for all but a very few.
“First
dollar gross” actors faded away in the theatrical business. Nine figure
backends on successful television series were relegated to the history books.
People were working twice as hard to make half as much, if that. For many, the
hardest work was looking for the next assignment. Annual earnings for
relatively successful writer/producers tumbled precipitously. Silicon Valley
workers were chortling on how much more their average educated engineers were
making over those legendary Hollywood premium jobs. Only a very, very few in
Hollywood made the biggest bucks, and most of those ran/run studios and
networks.
Yet
given the exceptional pro-business tax and regulatory vectors of the federal
government, even before the Trump administration’s explosive “business rules;
consumers’ rights are irrelevant” era, isn’t Hollywood’s plight just a more
visible reflection of the newest mega-plutocracy on earth? The United States of
America… or as the Economist describes
it, a “flawed democracy” that no longer really represents the totality of its
constituency. Companies make the money… and individual talent just feeds that
gaping maw.
I’m Peter Dekom, and the rest of the
world thinks the entertainment business is above the economic fray that impacts
the rest of the nation… when it nothing more than an example of the same slow
transition that increasingly favors the privileged few.
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