Musician David Lowery, founder of Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven, has become one of the most vocal defendants of artists’ rights in the digital age. A co-founder of The Trichordist, Lowery and his colleagues write some very detailed, professional assessments of the state of the music industry since digital file sharing, streaming, and purchasing have become a reality.
Presently under fire by Lowery and others is a bill called the Internet Radio Fairness Act, which appears, for now, to benefit one company — Pandora. I haven’t had a chance to read the bill yet, but analysis from a few sources sounds an awful lot like new-era business seeking a very old-school model for profitability — free labor. To the generalist glancing at some post about the IRFA on social media, it sounds progressive and reasonable, namely the headline that states “the Internet Radio company wants to pay the same rates as terrestrial radio.” No surprise, it ain’t that simple. In addition to Lowery’s piece, I would read some of the analysis by Chris Castle, who has been following the details fairly closely.
The most disconcerting criticisms I’ve read is that the bill is a union buster, designed to weaken or destroy the collective bargaining rights of artists. One paragraph in the bill is particularly troubling:
“Nothing in this paragraph shall be construed to permit any copyright owners of sound recordings acting jointly, or any common agent or collective representing such copyright owners, to take any action that would prohibit, interfere with, or impededirect licensing by copyright owners of sound recordings [including artists who own their own sound recordings] in competition with licensing by any common agent or collective, and any such action that affects interstate commerce shall be deemed a contract, combination or conspiracy in restraint of trade in violation of section 1 of the Sherman Act (15 U.S.C. 1).’. [For which there are both civil and criminal penalties.]”
Like I say, I haven’t had a chance to read the bill in full yet, and I’m not a lawyer. What I do know is that Internet companies do not deserve a free pass when it comes to the question of influence peddling. If Pandora cannot turn a profit without a law that strips artists of collective bargaining rights, then so long Pandora. It wasn’t that long ago when industrialists claimed they could not build important infrastructure without treating American workers like virtual slaves. The right to bargain for the value of one’s work cannot be recast in this technological era as a barrier to the innovation of entertainment any more than it ought to have been claimed as a barrier to building a railroad over a century ago. And considering how often the Internet industries cry foul every time a member of the creative community goes to Washington, this bill sounds more hypocritical and lopsided than it does “fair.”
I saw this link the other day from one of my indie filmmaker friends about Black Magic’s new 2.5k cinema camera. I recommend reading the article for anyone interested from a professional standpoint, but the reason I cite it here, as I continue to focus on digital cinema, is the headline: 7 Reasons Why Black Magic Rules — and DSLR is Done.
Let me be clear. I’d love to test drive one of these cameras, and they sound very exciting, but this headline is a very basic example of just one reason why digital cinema is not simple — it never stops changing. Even the statement “DSLR is done,” which refers to motion capture using high-end still cameras like Canon’s 5D, implies that DSLR itself is some sort of standard, which is most certainly not the case. More to the point, based on the description of the Black Magic camera, its look will be very different from a DSLR, and the cinematographer doesn’t always think “better” or “worse” in this context, just “different.” I imagine an engineer reading this might tilt his head like Nigel in Spinal Tap, and say, “But this goes to eleven.”
Digital cinema offers a lot of exciting products and possibilities for the artist, but one of the challenges, especially as we move up the ladder from guerrilla, indie film production to high-end, large-scale features is that every new product is actually a disruption in a very complex process that begins with planning a film project and ends with storage of the material.
It is true that, when cinema was celluloid only, the means of production were out of reach for most bootstrapping independents; but at the other end of the spectrum, professional cinematographers were able to amass a body of knowledge that enabled them to control a film’s look from start to finish because imaging science wasn’t moving quite so quickly as it does today. One thing many laymen may not realize is that there is a qualitative and instinctive aspect to cinematography that cannot be quantified in a spec sheet. An experienced DP exposing a particular film stock in a given situation, knowing how he’ll process, correct, and print that sequence is able to operate on a feel for the medium beyond the numbers that has been acquired through years of repeated use. While the same instincts apply to a DP working with digital, the reality is that both the quantifiable specs and the more subjective characteristics of each system are in constant and rapid flux. You get used to the behaviors of one technology just as a new one comes along.
Digital cinema for quality feature filmmaking is only about a decade old, depending on where we choose to start the clock, and we already have capture technology that acquires more visual information than may be desirable in some cases. As I discussed briefly with cinematographer Steven Poster the other week, producers are just beginning to realize, for example, that hyper-realistic resolution demands an increase in detailed work by every department, which actually drives costs up at the high end of film production. “We have to apply makeup with airbrushes now instead of paint brushes, and sets have to look like finished homes” says Poster. In short, artisans and craftspeople don’t do better, and more refined work for less money.
So, what about the DIY, indie filmmaker, who doesn’t have a makeup artist at all, let alone one with airbrushes? Is 2K resolution, for instance, helpful, or will magnifying every pore on an actor’s face have a negative impact on the audience experiencing her film? The smaller the budget, the more the filmmaker relies on real locations, available light, and small crews wearing many hats. In these situations, for instance, this new camera’s wide exposure latitude is likely helpful, but its resolution could actually be a hindrance, if the filmmakers want the backgrounds to go nice and soft. These are crude examples that are not meant to critique a camera I’ve never touched. My point is that digital cinema is a complex and dynamic medium that does not begin and end at the engineer’s bench.
In general, I tend to think of camera systems as analogous to different film stocks, taking the attitude that no one is better or worse than another, so much as each has unique characteristics that are either suited or not to a particular project. Thinking in these terms is one way to avoid being buffeted by the dynamics of competing manufacturers, but only if one maintains a practice of renting instead of buying equipment. Of course, with cameras coming out at low price points like this one from Black Magic, renting is often impractical or impossible. So, at the point of considering an investment, the experienced filmmaker will ask questions like “What is my post-production workflow? What are my storage demands? Which lenses can I buy or rent in my market? What will this camera allow me to do, or what obstacles does it pose for my next film — or next three films? Bottom line: how much mileage will I get out of the investment before it too is obsolete?”
And that’s the one thing we can know for sure about each low-priced, digital product that comes on the market — something new is always around the corner — and soon. I can assure you that competitive products are already in the works and that the success of any particular camera will have more to do with market dynamics and the types of film projects people want or need to make than with the impressive specs of the product itself.
I often think back to a meeting with a Sony representative at the rental company in New York that I’ve always used. The Rep showed me and the owner all the specs and a demo video for Digital Betacam. Sony’s whole push at the time was replacing film, and they spent a fair bit of time and money producing programs for their demo that yielded some gorgeous images to be sure. Of course, their pitch was based on a combination of technological achievement and saving commercial and TV producers money on camera rentals, film stock, and processing. What they had failed to do in my opinion was to take a holistic view of production and realize that once a producer brings together certain elements — talent, crew, logistics, set pieces, etc. — that cost a lot of money, the line items DigiBeta presumed to replace were negligible. Plus, nobody was going to thank a producer for the savings if the final product didn’t look right. Hence, why would any DP or director choose a good but inferior and untested technology in this situation?
Like I say, this camera from Black Magic sounds very cool, and I look forward to trying it. But after twenty years of watching the emergence and disappearance of “game-changing” technology, I like to remind myself and others that films are as good as the people working on them, not the toys in their bags.
Last week, MPAA CEO Christopher Dodd spoke in San Francisco about fostering better collaboration between the entertainment and Internet industries. Not surprisingly, two voices from the tech industry, TechDirt and the Electronic Frontier Foundation rang out with rebuttal. Mike Masnick, editor of TechDirt, called Dodd a “predictable dissembler” and proceeded to attack him personally for “lacking the vision” for his role. The EFF posted this article, which strikes a more conciliatory tone that only makes for an even more insidious version of the proverbial pot calling the kettle black.
Now, I don’t have any strong feelings about the MPAA or Mr. Dodd per se. I agree with some functions of that body, disagree with others, and am generally neutral on most of its activities. In January, I wrote that I considered the protest against SOPA to be generally dysfunctional and that well-meaning people were being used as puppets by the Web industry, playing on a historic distrust of the media industry. So, let’s clear one thing up right now: as of this moment, the Web industry outspends entertainment on straight-up lobbying and on general PR, including the work of the EFF. As an aside, I feel a little silly using the term Web industry when one company, Google, owns more than 90% of search and advertising worldwide. Is there a U.S. company more monopolistic at this point in history?
Still, the Web folks continue to get away with portraying themselves as the underdog and also as the champions of free speech. Thus, the EFF article states, innocent of the slightest hypocrisy, “But let’s not forget that he [Dodd] serves as the chairman and CEO of one of the most influential lobbying groups in Washington, and that the actions of the industry have yet to back up his rhetoric.” The writers of the article aim to sound open-minded while warning the reader not to trust “Dodd’s influence” despite the fact that the EFF’s Northern California friends enjoy far more influence, if lobbying dollars are the true measure. Let’s also not forget that the Web industry has left more than its fair share of unfulfilled rhetoric on the table.
While Web-centric pundits continue to raise the specter of SOPA’s return as an emotional tug on our senses, we should remember some of the odd dissembling that came from the bill’s opponents on January 18. Remember these slogans? Good intention, bad law. End Piracy, Not Liberty. These reasonable-sounding mantras were designed for general consumption by a public that doesn’t follow these issues on a regular basis; and they imply that the Web industry agrees that online piracy is a problem but that SOPA and PIPA were not the solution. The question remains, though, what solutions has the Web industry offered since declaring victory in the name of liberty over these bills?
So far, this industry has continued to pump out fears regarding any legislative action designed to protect copyright; it has increased its lobbying efforts and expenditures; it has perpetuated the implication that copyright itself is anathema to free speech; and it has continued to insist that the solution to piracy is to embrace it as a business opportunity rather than to confront it as a threat. These are not the actions of an industry looking to collaborate to solve a problem. Perhaps because it’s not their problem.
Both the EFF and TechDirt articles in response to Dodd cite a Congressional Research Service Report (see embed) that they claim makes Dodd out as a liar with regard to the importance of filmed entertainment as a component of GDP as well as the industry’s role as an employer. But, as is often the case with data, truth is in the voice of the interpreter; and it looks to me as though TechDirt and EFF are reading what they want to see in the numbers.
First, the entire report is based on best available information only from the major studios listed on Page 1. Hence, the employment number is meaningless, because anyone who knows the motion picture business, knows that the lion’s share of work is done by people who never receive a paycheck from these companies. The report does not reflect, for instance, the independent production companies who produce most of the filmed entertainment in the U.S. A quick glance at a web page for just one company, Participant, lists 50 projects completed or in production. If we average a conservative but realistic 150 roles per project (not including actors or directors), that’s 7,500 contract jobs ranging from entry-level to high-paying through one production company since 2004.
The report also would not include a four-person, middle-income shop in NYC doing motion graphics this year for a TV network. These people most certainly are employed by the entertainment industry, and so are several hundred shops just like them around the country. Then of course, there are tens of thousands of industry professionals who support themselves, their families, and their communities by working variously on TV shows, documentaries, low-budget features, commercials, and industrials, all of which are affected by the overall health of the motion picture industry, even at the top rungs of the ladder.
In the TechDirt article, Mike Masnick uses the CRS report to simultaneously assert that the movie business is doing just fine (i.e. studio executive salaries) and, by the way, it isn’t really all that important to the economy (i.e. small contribution to GDP). Studio CEO salaries, right or wrong, have very little to do with the overall health of the American film industry, especially in a discussion about the effect of online piracy on filmmakers of every size.
As for the significance of filmed entertainment to the economy, again, the GDP part of the report is narrowly focused on box office sales in the U.S. and Canada for the major studios listed. This leaves out huge segments of economic value in the for-profit, industry as a whole. (It should be noted that this not a flaw in the report itself, only in how the limited data is being used in this context.)
Strangely enough, Masnick sees no irony in the fact that he says, on the one hand, that the film business doesn’t amount to much economically and yet somehow, Hollywood manages to wield tremendous lobbying power. In fact, were we to take this report as the only relevant data, it shows clearly that Disney, News Corp, Viacom, Sony, and Time Warner combined don’t make as much as Google all by itself. So, ask yourself who’s likely throwing whose weight around in Washington?
SOPA and PIPA may well be dead, even in revised forms; but currently on life support, I believe, is the Web industry’s ability to keep playing David to media’s Goliath, all the while crying, “freedom” in order to effect policy in its favor. It won’t take too much longer for the general public to figure out that the members of the newly announced Internet Association are no more deserving of our blind trust than any other wealthy, vested interest. This is just business and politics as usual; and I would ask what wicked and dissembling glass makes the the wizards of Silicon Valley believe they’re always the good guys?
The Illusion of More is my personal blog from December 2011 to December 2025. As of February 2026, I am no longer posting new blogs or other content, but I hope you enjoy this archive. Please do not attribute any of my writings here to my current or previous employers.
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