The Economist
The film business
Even now, nobody knows
anything
Business in Tinseltown is as unpredictable as it was 30
years ago
Dec 21st 2013 | LOS
ANGELES | From the print edition
Is that a turkey on your head?
IN 1983, when William Goldman, a
star screenwriter, revealed the inner workings of the film-making business in
“Adventures in the Screen Trade”, Hollywood was in turmoil. The studios were
reeling from a string of flops, most notably “Heaven’s Gate”, a Western
released the previous year that had cost $44m (a huge sum in those days),
ruining United Artists, the studio that made it. Mr Goldman’s book is best
remembered for coining the rule that in his industry, “nobody knows anything”:
it is anyone’s guess whether a film will be a hit or a miss.
Three decades on, following such
big-budget turkeys as “The Lone Ranger” (pictured), the situation in Hollywood
is much the same. Only more so. These days the studios assume that to get
people into the cinemas, films must be splashier, so production budgets can run
in excess of $300m and cost an additional $100m-150m to market. When Disney’s
“Johnny Carter”, an adventure flick, bombed last year, the entertainment giant
suffered a $160m write-off. Its studio boss, Rich Ross, was told: so long, and
let’s do lunch some time.
As the studios spend ever more on
lavish prequels, sequels and “franchise” films, supposedly as a way to reduce
risk by backing proven formulas, there is a growing danger that these movies
will be nixed by jaded punters. Steven Spielberg, no introduction necessary,
reckons that the studios could face “meltdown” if several big films flop at
once. Studios are increasingly putting out just two types of film: mega-budget
ones that can move the needle for the conglomerates that own them, and tiddlers
for under $25m that can do nicely when they work. “Hollywood is like America,”
says Kevin Misher, a producer. “The middle class has been squeezed.”
Mr Goldman described how, by 1983,
the studios had all but given up developing their own ideas. Instead freelance
writers, producers and other outsiders toured Hollywood touting ready-cooked
packages, often with the stars already signed on and the script written. Now
the studios, having cut their remaining development spending to boost their
marketing budgets, are even more reliant on outsiders to design their product;
imagine if Apple or Toyota did this. The studios are also looking outside for the
money to finance films. A new species of intermediaries, such as Village
Roadshow Entertainment Group and Skydance, have sprung up to bankroll projects.
As Mr Goldman described it, studio
executives were like baseball managers: “They wake up every morning…with the
knowledge that sooner or later they’re going to get fired.” Again, this is now
truer than ever. As films’ budgets have expanded, so too has the risk that a
flop will end an executive’s career. The past 18 months have seen more
executive turnover than usual: four out of the six main studios have seen
change at the top. In 1983 studio executives were often failed agents. Now they
seem to be businesspeople. For example, Jeff Shell, who took over Comcast’s
Universal Pictures in September, is a television boss with no background in
film.
Since everybody still knows that
nobody knows, studios continue to show early cuts of films to focus groups, to
determine how to tweak and market them. But even after a film’s release it
remains unclear why it boomed or bombed. Why was “Gravity”, starring George
Clooney and Sandra Bullock in a tale about stranded astronauts, one of this
year’s hits despite the misgivings of its studio, Warner Bros, whereas “The
Lone Ranger” was such a flop, despite Disney’s high hopes for a film starring
Johnny Depp?
“Hollywood is always in crisis,”
jokes an unusually publicity-shy talent agent. Indeed, his office is in Century
City, a district full of high-rises in Los Angeles that was once the backlot of
20th Century-Fox until it had to sell up because of the crippling cost of its
1963 epic, “Cleopatra”. Faced with bankruptcy 50 years ago, Fox might have been
better off keeping the property and junking the film-making. The industry’s
return on capital has been chronically anaemic. The media conglomerates that
own the major studios grouse about the lousy economics of the business,
particularly since DVD sales peaked in 2004 and then waned, with consumers
shifting to lower-cost rentals and subscription services like Netflix.
Technology should have helped Hollywood, by lowering the cost of distributing
films, but it has also cost the industry dearly, as film-makers doll up their
movies with expensive special effects, and negative social-media buzz kills
films before they even open.
How will it play in China?
Thirty years ago Hollywood tried to
make films that appealed to “popcorn buyers”: 16- to 24-year-olds who used to
go to cinemas in droves before they became so preoccupied by their smartphones.
Then they focused on films that would sell well on DVDs for home viewing. At
the peak in 2004 the sale of physical media accounted for 48% of the big
studios’ revenues in America, according to IHS, a research firm. Since then,
the value of their sales has dropped by almost half.
Today Hollywood tries to tailor its
products to the tastes of film buffs in big emerging economies, especially
China, which is now the world’s second-largest movie market (see article). The
farther a film can travel, the better, which means the studios are exporting
films with fewer American elements. “Big Hollywood films have no national
ideology attached to them today,” says Michael Lynton, the boss of Sony
Pictures. Consider Fox’s four “Ice Age” cartoons, which together grossed around
$800m. They are set in no identifiable time or place, and the characters can
easily be dubbed into local languages.
Hollywood has always been a
“caste-system town”, in Mr Goldman’s words. That remains true, but the tiers
are shifting. Working in television used to be considered less desirable than
unemployment; today it is where most of the money is, so writers, producers and
the studios themselves are focusing more on television. As for Mr Goldman, who
is 82, he has moved to New York, and is writing a musical. As luck would have
it, the big film studios are putting money into Broadway musicals. But as
“Springtime for Hitler” showed (Mel Brooks’s story of a musical designed to
flop that becomes a smash hit), even here nobody really knows anything.
From the print edition:
Business
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