Showing posts with label the strike. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the strike. Show all posts

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Writers Heart Real Producers

For everyone not working in Los Angeles or New York, there is a bit of clarification in order. You know the Writers Guild is on strike. You may also know that we are striking against AMPTP (the Association of Motion Picture and Television Producers). You might also think this group is made up of "producers". You would be understandably mistaken. At one time AMPTP was a coalition of producers, but now it is essentially eight massive corporate conglomerates that own all the movie studios and TV networks.

So the next question is, if AMPTP is simply eight enormous corporations, then who are real "producers" and what do they do? Very astute question.

From my experience, the producers that I have worked with on the film side are ridiculously smart and creative folks who essentially do three things: 1) They develop material with writers, 2) They leverage their experience and relationships to marry name actors with scripts so that studios feel comfortable spending their money, and 3) They work with the studios to get movies made. Although I haven't worked in TV, my understanding is that the job description for producers is going to brush the same fundamental strokes: They develop material, hire writing teams, attach actors, and generally try to shepherd a TV show to fruition.

Those are the people I consider to be "producers". They are witty and charming and have winning smiles and we are not at odds with them. Additionally, we are not even in conflict with the Creative Executives who work at the studios and networks. We work directly with them, and I can assure you they also smell nice and have killer crossover dribbles. No, the people we are at odds with are the corporate overlords at the eight conglomerates.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Strikes Make Puppies Sad

So my dog cocked her head and flopped her ears and looked at me quizzically. And the conversation went something like this...

My Dog: So, Dave, that blood trickling down the back of your thigh, is that a result of the anal buggering you're taking due to the writers' guild strike?

Me: Why, yes, puppy, it is.

My Dog: Is that because you had a couple projects with big time producers and big time talent attached that you thought were just about to get set up before the strike went from Summer of 2008 to right effing now?

Me: Why, yes, puppy, it is.

My Dog: Does that make you want to quit the strike?

Me: Not until we get a decent deal for internet redistribution of our authored work.

My Dog: Good boy.