Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Screen Actors Guild Turbulence
While there’s a break in the clouds that have been forever hovering over the Screen Actors Guild, don’t expect anyone in the union to break out in a rendition of “Kumbaya” any time soon.
The membership’s ratification Tuesday of a proposed two-year TV/theatrical contract with producers garnered a substantial 78 percent of the vote, which would indicate there’s solidarity among the rank and file – but more turbulence is likely just around the bend.
Though Tuesday’s vote should be viewed as further repudiation of the Membership First faction led by current SAG president Alan Rosenberg, it is not stopping the veteran TV actor from vying for a third two-year term.
Under Rosenberg’s leadership, Membership First took a hard line in negotiations with the networks and studios on issues ranging from product integration to compensation from new media, and used the threat of a strike vote as a potential chip.
The more moderate Unite for Strength group pushed to get back to the bargaining table, arguing the stalemate with producers cost working actors about $85 million in pay raises at a time when the economy was rapidly deteriorating. SAG had been operating under the terms of a previous agreement since last June.
UFS is in a great position to gain more seats on the SAG board in the upcoming fall elections – especially with the divisive Rosenberg again heading the MF slate. No matter the results, the campaign vitriol leading up to the Sept. 24 vote count will be as heated as ever.
For the industry’s most splintered labor organization, this is the calm before what figures to be yet another violent storm.
|
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
The Webby Awards and Filmed Entertainment
By guest contributor Eric Kohn
I was standing outside the lavish banquet hall of Cipriani Wall Street on Monday night, watching a handful of celebrities walk the red carpet before the Webby Awards, while a crowd of curious pedestrians slowly closed in. One of them quit staring long enough to ask a question. "What are the Webbys?" she asked a nearby publicist. "It's an award ceremony for websites," came the fleeting response. Well, yes...and no.
Presented by the 600 members of The International Academy of Digital Arts and Sciences, the Webbys have aimed to "honor excellence on the Internet" for 13 years. During the ceremony, pre-announced winners for categories ranging from comedic performance to motion graphics deliver five-word speeches before dashing off the stage. The whole thing feels like a marathon banquet. Tons of money pours into the event so that all sorts of web-based innovators can mug for the cameras before returning to the computer screens from whence they came. Theoretically, the huge number of winners included in the ceremony displays the sheer scale of innovation taking place on the Internet today. It's about personalities and energy as much as actual websites — the Internet as both a craft and a lifestyle.
That's the idea, anyway. However, the ceremony is frequently marred by cynicism and overwrought production values, suggesting that we simply haven't come far enough to take these things all that seriously. "I'm just hoping the video from tonight doesn't end up on FAIL Blog," joked Webby Awards executive director David Michael Davies at the start of the evening, and yet there was a detectable nervousness in his voice. Frankly, the Webbys suffer from an inconsistency of tone, as if aspiring to great things without ever expecting to achieve them. I'm not saying that the ceremony needs to dial down the charm, but it could benefit from reevaluating its purpose.
Much of the event revolves around the changing face of the entertainment industry, especially as it pertains to the future of the moving image. An enjoyably sardonic Seth Meyers, marking his sophomore outing as the evening's host, seemed like he was only half-joking about online video's negative impact on his livelihood. Therein lies the conundrum: Much as I delighted in the clever one-liners unloaded by the charismatic head writer of "Saturday Night Live," I had to wonder just what the hell he was even doing in the room. There's a clear-cut dichotomy between the old media entertainers and the pioneers, and it simply doesn't make sense to devote a night to honoring the pioneers by letting the old media entertainers make fun of them. Will Ferrell would make a better choice. He has managed to successfully permeate the digital realm with his Funny or Die website while retaining superstardom. Putting him in front of the microphone would have sent a much stronger message about the viability of public personalities in pixelated form.
Some of the high-profile honorees were more justifiable than others. Seth McFarlane's "Cavalcade of Cartoon Comedy" project translated his tendency toward sketch comedy on "Family Guy" into an online project where it perfectly matched web users' preference for the short form. So it's reasonable enough for him to receive the "Film & Video Person of the Year," I guess, but it's also somewhat unfair to the countless small fish artists out there looking for innovative ways to get noticed. I'm less hesitant about Sarah Silverman's "Best Actress" award, since her "Big Schlep" videos did seem to have an impact on old Jewish women's voting habits in Florida. But Jimmy Fallon as Webby Person of the Year simply because he tweets? Right, I'm sure his publicist enjoyed that one, in between loading status updates into Fallon's feed. That's like giving props to Cartman because you can watch South Park online.
A video editor seated at my table during the event pointed out that most of the criticism leveled at the Webbys is directed at all awards shows: They're somewhat empty and champion glamour over content. Again, yes and no. The problem with the Webbys is a very specific dissonance of its subject-object relationship. On the one hand, it celebrates the democratization of the Internet, but puts classically wealthy people in the spotlight. Martha Stewart, of all people, introduced the founder of Twitter last night. Speaking of which, that five-word limit on all acceptance speeches has got to go. It's the kind of boundary that makes Twitter's 140 character cap look like “War and Peace,” which doesn't bode well for the future of communication.
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|