As the Writers Guild of America strike ends its third week, it’s worth remembering that there was a time when strikes by the WGA were like Jerry Lee Lewis marriages. Don’t like the current one? Just wait. There’ll be another one along any minute, and it’ll be even more destructive for all concerned.
Which is not to say any of them could have been avoided. (WGA strikes, that is. Who knows from Jerry Lee’s troubles?) It is a sad, frustrating part of Hollywood history that now and again, financial inequities creep up or the studio heads get even greedier than usual, and the WGA is presented with what it considers an unacceptable offer by the Alliance of Motion Picture Television Producers (AMPTP).
The AMPTP, to use the labor terminology, is a “multi-employer bargaining unit,” a group that in this case negotiates with all the major unions on behalf of the major studios. Once the AMPTP has its deal in place with a union, independent producers sign what are called “Me-Too” contracts, meaning that they agree to the same terms. So, in essence, the AMPTP negotiates on behalf of everyone who hires union members. Too often, the way they negotiate is to hand the union or guild a “take it or leave it” offer full of rollbacks, cuts, and other onerous terms. To leave it is to go on strike. Sometimes, if the union is willing to bargain far enough ahead, they can whittle the rollbacks down a bit and claim that as a win.
It’s always been like this, right down to the producers’ rhetoric and the suggestions that they can live well without us. That’s what they were saying back in 1933 when ten top crafters of movie scripts agreed to organize. Immediately and predictably, the studios resisted: They would never recognize such a coalition, and anyone who joined would find themselves unemployed and unemployable. It took nine years of threats, legal wranglings, and National Labor Relations Board rulings before the Screen Writers Guild was able to negotiate its first contract.
They proposed a new cable/cassette formula that was much lower – an 80 percent reduction by some estimates, greater by others. There was really no money in those markets, they said, and what meager revenues existed were necessary to offset losses in other venues. (These are “losses” as defined by people who insist their top-grossing projects are still in deficit and therefore, there’s no money due to anyone with a share of profits. Are they still telling Alan Alda that the M*A*S*H TV show was a money loser?) There was some talk of studies. If – big if – it turned out that selling movies on videotape was more lucrative than the writers expected, adjustments would be made down the line. It turned out, of course, that home video was more profitable than anyone anticipated. But somehow, no adjustments ever occurred – and I doubt anyone really expected they would. “We’ll conduct a study” is something you agree to so the side that got the short end in the deal can save a little face.
The reduction in cable/cassette residuals was a deal breaker for them that year: No contract until we agreed to it. It was a deal breaker for us, too – mostly. We voted “no,” but it was a tepid “no.” The Guild was split, our leadership didn’t know how to cope with that split, and the strike collapsed after three ugly weeks. We took the rollback. No one’s quite figured how much writers lost, let alone calculated the losses for all the other folks in town who had deals linked to ours, either explicitly or due to pattern bargaining. The number is in the many billions – and beyond that, we can’t bear to think about it. But of course the studios can. They look at how much they made off any salary rollbacks the same way they look at how much they make off any box office blockbuster. Immediately, they start thinking, “Sequel!”
In 1988, when the rolled-back WGA contract came up for renewal, the Producers did what one does when someone stupid is on the hook: They tried the same strategy again. They came at us with a series of demands that were not quite as noxious, but still pretty bad. Again, it was “Take this or there’s no contract.” This time, though, we’d learned, and we had better leadership. The strike of that year lasted 22 weeks – one day longer than the strike of ’60 – and while we ended up agreeing to some of the cuts, we cost the Producers a lot more than they cost us.
Which is why we have this strike. If it seems destructive, remember that Screen Actors Guild and Directors Guild negotiations are up next. They’re as militant in key areas as we are, which is why the Producers are so determined to make the writers yield. [Emphasis added.] We’re just the first ones into the fray and if the AMPTP can hold us down, they’ll have a stronger position when they face off on other battlefields. Remember those two words: pattern bargaining. Hollywood’s going to be hearing them a lot, one way or the other.