Forget those public-service announcements hosted by set designers and stuntman -- here are the anti-piracy shorts we'd like to see.
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In a frantic attempt to harden the public's attitude toward DVD piracy, Hollywood has begun to run a series of heartwarming informational vignettes before the screenings of major motion pictures. One features a set designer whose goatee is a different color than the rest of his facial hair; I am not sure if this is a deliberate attention-getting gimmick, a new industry trend or simply poor lighting. A second showcases a stuntman. In each case, the speakers are "just plain folks" who work largely behind the scenes in the motion-picture industry.
Earnestly, these folks talk about how much they love their jobs, while subtly registering their concern about the spread of piracy. The largely unspoken message is clear: Pirates are threatening the working stiff's very livelihood. Piracy doesn't merely hurt the corporations, the producers, the directors and the stars; it hurts the average guy as well. I have no idea how many of these public-service announcements are already in the can, but I personally am looking forward to the ones featuring the homespun gaffer, the affable foley artist and the miffed best boy who fears for his economic future.
Still, I'm not sure what the overall effect of this unusual campaign will be. Warning patrons about the ethical perfidy of movie piracy seems a bit like preaching to the choir; people who have already paid to see a movie are most likely not the kinds of people participating in this odious cultural misdeed. Many filmgoers deliberately arrive late at the multiplex, seeking to avoid previews for Minnie Driver movies, much less suffer through public-service announcements. And since most filmgoers are teenagers, for whom contempt for authority is an official rite of passage, it's hard to see how they will be swayed by these pleas for global economic justice. Kids who want to use drugs have rarely been swayed by those grim "This Is Your Brain on Drugs" ads. They know what drugs do to your brain. That's why they use them.
A more serious criticism of the movie promos is their staggering dishonesty. The grunts who work the cameras, build the sets, fetch the food and cater to the talent get paid the same amount of money regardless of how the film does at the box office. Movies are going to get made no matter how many pirates rip off the studios. Economics may change over the course of time, but none of this is likely to affect the hoi polloi who slave away in the trenches.
Trotting out the proles smacks of a manipulative cynicism for which the industry has long been both criticized and revered. It reminds me of a recent New York Times op-ed piece in which a young man pleaded with readers not to hang up on telemarketers because one of the telemarketers might very well be his aging mother, incapable of getting any other work. Nice try, pally.
If Hollywood wants to be honest about the real economic and employment threat that movie piracy presents, it should furlough the set designers and stuntmen and film a bunch of public-service announcements showcasing the people who are really affected by the criminal epidemic.
"If you dudes keep ripping off my movies, I'm going to be forced to take a pay cut," are the words we might hear out of an anguished Vin Diesel's mouth. "There's no way I can keep asking studios to pay me $20 million a movie when my flicks like A Man Apart are tanking at the box office and getting ripped off by pirates. You scumbags are going to put me out of business!
For maximum effect, the promos should be dubbed into Chinese and included on recently released DVDs, since so much of the illegal copying is going on behind what used to be known as the Iron Curtain. Also, it would be nice to hear Diesel--once hailed as the next James Bond, though now seeming more like the last James Belushi--speak in fluent Mandarin, English having proven such a roaring success.
Hollywood could also parade borderline matinee idols, mavericks and has-beens to illustrate the grave peril to their careers posed by piracy.
"Lately, I've only been getting work in scuzzy Stallone remakes and piss-poor Steve Buscemi indies," is how a ravaged Mickey Rourke might phrase it. "If you cocksuckers don't knock off this piracy shit, I won't even be able to get that. You fuckin' pussies better watch your back!"
Other approaches might prove equally viable. To provide a graphic illustration of how much piracy is affecting the creative process, the Wachowski brothers might appear in a public-service announcement lamenting the fallout from The Matrix series.
"You probably noticed that the last two installments of The Matrix didn't have much of a plot," is how they'd lay it out. "Well, whose fault is that? If we hadn't been losing money hand-over-fist to pirates, we could have paid for a decent screenplay. But our hands were tied. We know how stupid all that stuff about the Keymaker and the Oracle was. We know that Laurence Fishburne didn't have a single good line in the last two films. But that's your fault. You robbed us blind. You stiffed us. Do you seriously think we would have been reduced to using some dumb-assed Ivy League professor as an extra if we'd had the cash to get somebody halfway decent? Hey, what goes around comes around."
Many other possibilities present themselves. Famished screenwriters could be interviewed in homeless shelters talking about having to pull their kids out of private schools because piracy prevented them from getting their projects airborne. Penniless, disease-ravaged directors standing in the soup line could point an angry finger at the wicked pirates, claiming that only misappropriation of their wares prevented them from getting Shallow Hal: The Prequel greenlighted. David Geffen might even agree to be filmed at the foreclosure on one of his mansions after pirates peeled so much money off his bankroll that he had to sell off some valuable properties. And Winona Ryder could earmark DVD piracy as the emotional wellspring of her inexplicable shoplifting predilections.
Should appeals to basic human decency not work, appeals of artists could be used. Peter Jackson might appear on screen showing what The Lord of the Rings would look like if piracy continues unabated. No more high-quality computer generated monsters; instead, loads of villains who look like the Hulk in Ang Lee's misbegotten film. And no more Liv Tyler, Ian McKellen or Orlando Bloom; instead, the barricades would be manned by Shannen Doherty, Tom Bosley and Paul Giamatti. You want real dungeons and real dragons? Then you better be prepared to pay for them.
And should the studios decide to get really down and dirty, they might persuade Robert Downey Jr. to film a spot warning teenage downloaders and pirates what's in store for them down in the prison showers after the lights go out. What might work even better would be direct threats. If this piracy thing doesn't stop, we're going to start making black-and-white movies again. Unless you bring us the names and addresses of the criminals, we won't release Kill Bill: Vol. 2. Ever.
Or maybe Hollywood should stop wasting its money on these pitiful public-service announcements entirely and instead hire unemployed death squads to track down the pirates. It's a waste of time to beg for common decency. The only way to deal with pirates is through violence. That's why the very last public-service spot should feature Mel Gibson, decked out in full Braveheart, warning that any apprehended movie pirate will be hung, drawn, quartered, castrated and then forced to watch The Passion of the Christ in Aramaic.
That should put the fear of God into them.
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