Happy Labor Day! Maybe Everyone With Boring Ideas Should Sit This One Out?

Joseph Campbell is tired and cannot be found on Love Island

Welcome to a special Labor Day Night Creep!

In ten years—hell, maybe even five years—what we know as a movie won’t matter anymore. Sure, there will still be theaters with darkened seats and greasy popcorn hands and people being told to silence their phones, but the commodity that is 2:15 hours long and requires a theatrical run to be considered for an award will no longer be relevant.

And maybe there is something sad about that. I feel a little sad and adrift. Like so many of us, I enjoyed a good Barbenheimer moment, all of us sitting underneath the pink and orange glow of a Major Cinematic Event, where for two weeks we all had a shared talking point (a rarity, these days). But the mediated vehicle that is Film with a capital F doesn’t really matter anymore. Cinemas are shrinking. The system is broken. We are watching folks—our friends or our heroes—strike in an attempt to fix it. Hey, you wanna sell a story, kid? Too bad, we ain’t in the stories business anymore.

Hopefully, somewhere, the meaning of Labor Day makes a content executive somewhere queasy. Maybe some AMPTP dude might get a little agita to think about how he spewed out the endless stream of mediocre shit that put Studio X so deeply in the red. The AMPTP vs. SAG/AFTRA and WGA isn’t just hurting those above the line, but an entire industry that is suddenly finding its once-certain ability to basically print Hollywood bucks faltering under the weight of technology-fueled crisis.

Entertainment will always be assailed by technological change, but this is the first time since the strikes of the ‘60s and ‘70s where creatives weren’t just striking for residuals or fair wages, but for existential recognition, the future of the medium. The advent of TV and the syndication of cable changed who/what/where/when/how entertainment was consumed. But at least, then, that entertainment was being dreamed up by humans. Today, that labor only matters as much as the algorithm lets it.

Earlier this evening, I attended a talk by DJ Dixon on the intersection of technology, art, and music, and the point he wanted to drive home again and again, is that innovation a) is necessary, b) leads to some pretty exploitative stuff, and c) catches major industries with their pants down, unawares. His example stemmed from the music industry, which digitized earlier than Hollywood, while Hollywood sat there smugly. First, it was downloads, and now it is streams, and while Spotify/Amazon/Apple have a firm chokehold on the industry, no working musician will tell you that streaming residuals are a successful model.

But what the music industry did, and was forced to do, was to abandon the idea of the album. Sure, they still exist, but when was the last time you added a full album by a single artist onto your listening device? And Renaissance doesn’t count.

So why, in the era of endlessly digestible shortform content that is produced for free, are we clinging to a 100-year old narrative device optimized to sell us snacks? Or, even, a 30-minute narrative device that was created to align with commercial breaks that no longer exist? Sure, the strike of ‘07 directly dealt with the digitization of work, but at least that work was still controlled by humans.

Here are three things that a decade in content production, with half that time working for companies that are a part of the AMPTP, have proven to me:

1. Content is a commodity.

2. Creativity is not scalable.

3. Therefore, content that is meant to be considered creative cannot be scalable.

Many of you may know that I spent some time working at Netflix. And I don’t think I will be breaking any NDAs here when I say that Netflix prides itself on its algorithm, the ability to predict exactly what you might be interested in and serve it to you when you need it.

But algorithms—which are powered by AI—are discovery tools, not content generation tools. The way that artificial intelligence works is by taking information that is tagged as being relevant, interprets it, and then regurgitates the most likely consensus. This is why it is great at summarizing book plots or drilling something down into a simple how-to.

But it doesn’t generate dramatic irony. It isn’t able to craft a twist ending. It can’t determine a breakaway fan favorite. There is no consensus in dramatic irony and twist endings or breakout stars. This is why, in the next few years, we are going to see a whole host of movies using the IP of familiar and beloved toys (Polly Pocket, Bratz dolls, and even, if my sources are correct, Furbys). The algorithm reads the consensus that Barbie was a success¹ and suggests more merchandise movies² instead of investing in films that delicately balance of celebration and critique of hyperfemininity, and how that duality mirrors the daily impossible contradictions that women face.

Or, in other words, the Netflix-like tendency to go IP-first and not story, first. (Note: this is only via my own observations and consumption of Netflix titles, not any insider knowledge. Please don’t sue me.) Netflix went all in on Cowboy Bebop, and the show flopped. Or Masters of the Universe, which turned into a wash. Or even the current Netflix home page much watch, One Piece, which seems to satisfy fans but not much else. The IP makes sense, the audience exists, the recognition is there, but the story does not have universal resonance outside of fandoms—which just aren’t big enough to move needles. You no longer bet on visionaries or story. You bet on branding.

Netflix isn’t the only studio that suffers here (though it’s constant algorithmic chasing has lead it to be perceived as being a bit “bargain bin”). This summer, we watched Indiana Jones, Fast X, Shazam, The Flash, and Transformers tank. The lesson here is that each of these MASSIVE titles would—if looking simply at AI-generated insights that track“consensus” and general trends—nay, should make a buttload of money. The data is there. But the data is wrong.

The only way that the members of the AMPTP will continue to be successful is through scale, via monopoly, and by building out content libraries that are desirable. But building out those libraries in a meaningful way engenders risks that no one is willing to take. The movie format is dying and dragging us down. Joseph Campbell is tired and cannot be found on Love Island. Nothing has ever been solved by endlessly giving the “general consensus” what they want. And, no matter what Nicole Kidman says, heartbreak feels better on whatever streamer is paying her the most.

Nicole Kidman’s last 10 projects, seven of which are streaming-first

When the algorithm is tailored to optimization, what we gain in an eyeball-glazing garbage binge, we lose in emotional payoff. The first Mission Impossible was a stunningly directed Brian DePalma title with no gunfights, with a screenplay by Chinatown’s Robert Towne. Today, it’s about Tom Cruise nearly killing himself and is written by a handpicked Tom Cruise crony who is clearly not hired for his vision. And Kidman³ can tell us to go to the movies all in all sorts of lovely businesswear, but when our choices are Big Dumb IP vs. Big Dumb IP (like, say, this weekend’s Gran Turismo vs. The Equalizer 2 vs. Blue Beetle), it simply ain’t worth it.

Strikes aren’t meant to fix industry malaise, their purpose is to protect workers. And while the workers in Hollywood are calling attention to predatory inequity, the algorithmically driven streaming system will continue to fail them. The SAG/WGA strikes are meant to support workers and artists (yay!) but also continue to support a studio system that is sputtering and grinding to a halt (no!). Maybe I was wrong earlier. Maybe the movie will still matter and the ultimate measurement of success will be butts in seats or volume of eyeballs, because too-big-too-fail industries like Hollywood love arranging deckchairs as the bottom plummets out beneath them.

On Labor Day, consider how America’s massive, homegrown billion dollar industry is ill, and in response, those who run it steadfastly refuse to change. Contemplate the way that the old way of thinking about content monetization is irrelevant. And know, with certainty, that the ones who’ll suffer the most are the creative laborers, the ones who keep entertainment, well, entertaining.

Hey, if you made it this far, thanks! I appreciate your support!

A bunch of you have recently tried to sign up to be paid contributors, which is so sweet. I’m turning on paid subscriptions in case your kink is giving me money, but I have no plans on paywalling anything yet because this is all just to please you, my internet friends. Just wanted to thank you all for the comments and sign-ups. If you really want to show your love, send this to a few of your pals! xox - Leila

1. This is true!

2. This is not necessary!

3. Oh! They are exes! This was not intentional.