© Los Angeles Times, October 29, 2007
© Los Angeles Times, October 29, 2007
Guild members recall 1988's impasse and talk about how things might play out in '07.
By Lynn Smith and Matea Gold
THE year was 1988 and Hollywood's writers were still smarting from concessions made in a 1985 strike that left them with only a small percentage of residuals for DVDs and other rebroadcasts of their material. It was a time of high stakes, passion and confusion -- in other words, a time not unlike the present.
Many current members of the Writers Guild of America don't remember the last major strike by the writers. One reason is that it was 19 years ago; another is that two-thirds of the guild's 8,000 members have joined since then. So if current talks with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers end in a strike when the contract runs out Thursday, it may be their first experience with picket lines.
Opinions then were loud and varied but always articulate. "Even the most ridiculous positions on both sides tended to be clearly stated and well organized," recalled Carl Gottlieb, a member of the WGA negotiating team then and now. Whether it was worth it remains a matter of debate. "No one wins a war," he said.
Here, some of those involved in the 1988 strike -- it lasted about six months -- take a not-so-fond look backward and offer projections of what a strike in 2007 would mean.
Garth Ancier, president, BBC Worldwide America. In 1988, Ancier was the first programming president of then-fledging Fox network, and the prospect of a sustained strike was a daunting one.
"It was a time when the other networks and even Fox were so dependent on scripted programming," said Ancier. "Our feeling was that it would slow our growth down. It was already a very difficult time for the network."
No "American Idol," no "Survivor" -- reality TV was in its infancy. Fox executives had begun developing unscripted programming in hopes of offering an alternative to the fare on the other networks, "but I don't think any of us thought it would be game-changing," Ancier said.
When the strike hit, however, the nascent network plugged its schedule with two reality shows that had been running on local Fox stations: "America's Most Wanted" and "Cops."
"A show like 'Cops,' which seems like not a particularly inventive show nowadays, was pretty crazy in its day," Ancier noted.
The programs took off, Fox's competition took note, and it changed the future of TV.
"There's no question reality television took a big leap forward in that period and really became integral to the networks' growth," Ancier said.
Robert Eisele, writer- producer, most recently of the upcoming "The Great Debaters." When the 1988 strike was called, Eisele had just ended one season as a supervising producer on "The Equalizer."
Contrary to the widely held view that leftists ran the guild, Eisele recalled a strong difference of opinion from writers who didn't like unionism, or those who, unlike himself, hadn't saved enough money to afford a work stoppage. After one pre-strike meeting at the Hollywood Palladium, a friend nearly got into a fistfight when he was challenged by an anti-strike member. "I was at his shoulder, ready to throw down if necessary," he said.
But after the strike began, the union held together, he said. To pass time when they weren't working, members gathered at one another's homes to read excerpts of their work.
"It gets lonely not being on a show, so you seek the comfort of other writers," he said. "Some people read a script or poetry, little essays or excerpts from plays. Many of us take our work very seriously, though it's primarily to entertain. It's the craft with which we express ourselves. To have that business close up on you, none of us want to do it, but we will do it if we have to."
During the strike, some writers gained from having spent time with family, other writers and spec writing. But all lost money while careers stood still. Yet Eisele credits the sacrifices of previous strikers for enabling him to earn a good living with his work, putting two children through college. He believes in doing the same for others, including a son now working for producers.
"I tell young writers, 'We have to stay the course.' I say, 'If you can afford a Mercedes, get a Camry. If you can afford a Bentley, get a Mercedes.' I tell them to tighten their belts and be optimistic."
Carl Gottlieb,writer-producer, is on the WGA negotiating committee. As a writer-producer in 1988, his first loyalty was to the writers.
Perhaps the main reason for the strike of 1988 was that "both sides, the Writers Guild and AMPTP (Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers) underestimated the resolve of the other side," Gottlieb said. Because the writers had to accept "an unpleasant formula" for residuals in 1985, guild officers spent two years meeting privately with members to educate them on the problem.
"When negotiations appeared to be headed for an impasse," he said, "we had a completely educated membership who voted overwhelmingly for a strike."
For Gottlieb, the economic consequences were immediate: Universal sent him a telegram suspending his contract as a TV producer and writer. "The amount of money lost by both sides was never replaced," he said. "It was horrible, which is why strikes are compared to war. Nobody wins a war."
By the time the contract was settled and ratified by the members, he said, the guild had won 50 or 60 improvements, and the alliance prevailed in one or two issues.
However, the strike hastened the erosion of network TV's audiences to cable and home video. "Partially as a result of the strike and other events of the time, networks' share of the audience went from 90% to 65%. It never improved and it's been eroding ever since. People went to cable and reality programming," he said.
Robin Swicord,screenwriter-director, including the recently released "The Jane Austen Book Club." In 1988, Swicord was unsure how she would handle the strike with two small children. Sometimes, they joined her on the picket line.
Unionism in a time before iPods, recalled Swicord, usually meant huge meetings in large halls where thousands of people might wait in line for hours to get to the microphone.
In 1988, "a rumor would go around and everyone would take it as truth. It's not like that now," she said. "People are very organized, doing outreach, there are e-mail updates and captains you can call to get your questions answered. Instead of one giant meeting, there are several. It's easier."
Swicord and her husband, writer Nicholas Kazan, were also required to photocopy whatever scripts they were still working on and haul them down to a collection area where they would be kept as safeguards against "scabs," she said. If there were a challenge after the strike, someone could presumably check the registered script and determine whether the writer had continued working on it. "It was a mammoth undertaking," she said. "I had a logistical question: Who is going to review all this stuff, and who is going to keep track of it?"
She said she never heard of anyone breaking the strike. "The one thing everyone did understand is the only way the strike would be effective is if everyone followed the rules. It's a no-brainer."
Living in a company town, she said, she's aware of much talk about the economic impact of a writers strike and widespread anger directed toward the writers. "They say, 'Who are these crazy people who like to go out on strike?' "
In fact, the industry follows pattern bargaining, in which gains for one guild can be used by another guild in its negotiations. "We are always the first," she said. Whatever deal the writers make affects later negotiations by directors, actors, stagehands and technicians. Writers feel a responsibility to them.
"We love what we do," she said. "The people we are 'negotiating' against are the people we enjoy working with. So it's kind of confusing."