The Expendables
An essay on the Hollywood strikes by an American expendable.
I’m not movie star famous but have worked
steadily at the job I love, playing a lovable
accountant, a blind CIA officer, a video game mogul
who got what he deserved, and many more across
television and film. I’ve been able to raise a family in
Los Angeles on one income and in my line of work,
well, in any line of work these days, that is
something to be celebrated. Something to be
defended.
Like many of my colleagues, famous and not, I
belong to a union. I’ve been a member of the
Screen Actors Guild (now SAG/AFTRA) for 27
years. Since July 13, our union has been on
strike. I’ve been on the picket lines, here in Los
Angeles, not only in support of SAG/AFTRA but
also the Writers Guild of America (WGA), which
went on strike May 2. Nearly 98 percent of
actors and writers voted to strike.
We truly felt we had no choice. We’re not
simply striking for better pay although, given the
inflation all Americans have experienced the
past few years, better pay is a noble enough
goal - we’re striking because accepting the
terms industry executives are offering would
turn our union jobs into gig work.
“Get a real job.” You might be thinking. I’ve
heard that before. If that is where you stand I
would ask you to point me to what a “real” job
is. Teaching? I love teachers. The teachers
here in LA also had to strike this year because
they too could no longer support a family with
their paychecks. Manufacturing, perhaps.
Real blue-collar work. The United Auto Workers
just overwhelmingly approved a strike
authorization with 97% support because they
too fear they will no longer be able to raise their
families under the terms of employment toward
which their industry is marching. From Starbucks
and Amazon to the airline industry, Americans
are standing together and demanding a fair
share of the record profits our labor, talent and
sweat help create.
Carving out a career as
an actor has never been easy but, until
recently, it has always been possible. While the
era of streaming has increased the number of
jobs available, those streaming shows only
make 6-10 episodes per season when network
and cable shows used to make 16-24. So, even
if you’re lucky enough to work as a series
regular on a tv show (like I have many times)
you’ve seen your earnings drop significantly,
because we’re paid per episode, not per
season.
The writers and actors unions are also striking
because the streaming industry has decimated
a type of pay called residuals - a fee studios
pay an actor or writer every time their show
appears for reruns or re-airings after its initial
release. Residuals are how we, the
creators of the films and television shows,
share in the profits of their continued
exploitation. When a movie makes money,
the creatives involved get a small piece of that.
When a hit tv show airs a rerun, the creatives
get a small piece. Residuals help
actors and writers make ends meet.
When streaming technology was new, and
unproven, companies like Netflix asked for, and
received, generous discounts on residual rates
in good faith to help grow that new and
emerging market. Now, as reported by NPR,
Netflix’s revenue is $8.2 billion. Discounts are
no longer necessary, nor appropriate, and the actors
and writers who’ve helped make them so successful
can’t pay their rent with the contract as is. What that
means is that talented people will be forced to leave the
entertainment business, and the next
generation of talent will go do something else.
We’re not just fighting for our survival, we’re
fighting for the survival of this industry.
Then there’s the business of artificial
intelligence. Industry executives would like to
have software write scripts for them, or at least
the first drafts. They would like to own the
images of an actor, allowing them to
pay the actor once, then use artificial
intelligence to plug their likeness into any
project they wish for in perpetuity. This
would, naturally, eliminate the need for new
actors. Without new actors and writers, our
unions would slowly fade away along with our
pensions and healthcare.
In July, Carol Lombardini, the lead negotiator
for the industry executives, was quoted saying,
“Writers are lucky to have term employment.”
Bob Iger, the CEO of Disney, said on CNBC,
“There’s a level of expectation that they have,
that is just not realistic.” An unnamed studio
executive told Deadline, “The endgame is to
allow things to drag on until union members
start losing their apartments and losing their
houses.”
We are lucky, in a way, to have found success
in a competitive business but it isn’t blind luck.
Writers and actors train for years to hone their
craft just like teachers, and carpenters, and
lawyers, and healthcare providers. As far as expectations go,
is it unrealistic to expect to be able to raise a family?
At the end of the day, that’s all we’re asking for.
In return, our employers offer eviction, though they
could hand the writers and actors everything we’ve
proposed and it would only cost them around 2%
of their annual revenue, on average.
Currently, independent production companies
like A24 are filming under SAG/AFTRA’s latest
contract proposal using the union’s Interim
Agreement program. None of those small
companies are going broke and they’ve agreed
to every single deal point without exception. But
largely, Hollywood executives are treating
actors and writers like too many industry titans
are treating American workers: expendably.