Paul Newman is a damned handsome man - I'm not the first one to say it. Whether he's gobbling down 50 hard boiled eggs in Cool Hand Luke or emblazoning the box of cookies with his clasically chiseled visage, nobody can deny the magnetic power of his Newmanness. He's found himself oddly at odds with the MPAA recently, and I'm a little torn over this one - the complex topic of today's conflict that has brought chaos to the Newman Zone? "Image Rights."
According to a BBC article, In Connecticut, "Newman is among a group of actors backing a bill banning the use of a person's image or voice without consent for up to 70 years after their death." The article continues:
Newman, who lives in [Connecticut], told a state assembly hearing that technology meant he could appear in 'a whole movie' without his permission.
Opponents fear the bill will restrict filmmakers' rights of expression.
Newman, Sound of Music star Christopher Plummer and Midnight Run actor Charles Grodin, all appeared before the assembly's judiciary committee on Friday.
Newman said inexpensive computer software made it possible to produce a new movie by re-editing the original.
After briefly confusing Charles Grodin with Charles Fleischer, who played the doctor in the original A Nightmare on Elm Street in the scene where Nancy's mom is watching her get her dreams analyzed in the hospital while smoking a cigarette (the only time you'll see something referenced as being "totally 1984" here without meaning "in the Orwell way,") I got to thinking about the potential impact of this legislation. Could a posthumous resurgence in Newmania lead to any-and-everyone creating their own feature film starring the actor, not only without his consent, but without his participation?
I tend to be critical of celebrities pissing and moaning about how rough they've got it. I mean, if I was pulling in a couple gazillion dollars and the price I had to pay was the paparazzi plastering my beautiful mug all over the tabloids, I'd like to say that I wouldn't be the guy punching the camera man. However, I hesitate to completely commit to that until I actually become a famous movie star (to anyone reading this with pull in the industry, please make me a famous movie star.)
That having been said, I couldn't help but have a knee-jerk sort of sympathy for the Newmantic antics that went down in Connecticut. After all, isn't there something to be said for not wanting to be forced to posthumously hawk sodas that you've never tasted or cars you've never driven in commercials you'll never see?
On the other hand, though - and this is the part that's sticking in my craw (as someone given to those sorts of antiquated idiomatic expressions might say,) this seems to be the sampling controversy under another, weirder, more dystopic Lovecraftian body shifting post-pod-person necromantic guise. If for the purposes of satire, political statement, or just because I can, I want to make a movie in which Paul Newman fights Godzilla or in which I share lead billing as his quirky sidekick in an explosive buddy cop drama-dy, and the technology is there for me to do so, shouldn't I be able to? But then there's the bizarre question being raised about identity, and about if eventually this developing technology would give big studios, not indie filmmakers, the right to work hot, youthful celebrities not only after they've gotten fat and unfriendly to the camera, but after they've shuffled off their mortal coils, ad infinitum, the perfect cash cow.
The MPAA, as well as the CT state government, got a word in about this concern:
The Motion Picture Association of America, which represents the major film studios, opposes the bill.
Van Stevenson, senior vice president for state government affairs, said copyright laws already covered some of the actors' concerns.
He added that the bill could prevent parodies of famous people and restrict filmmakers from using old footage.
"Our position basically is, common law covers this," he said.
Yea, in this context a single statement (we oppose it) seems a little ominous, but at the same time Van Stevenson raises a crucial point. Despite the dramatically discomforting idea of having one's person used for purposes other than that for which it's been embodied, the sci-fi-cum-real-life concern about technology being used to make people endorse things they don't, producing political disinformation and the suchlike - the much more immediate impact of laws like this could be the further erosion of the rights of independent auteurs to create derivative works from raw material, especially since this legislation looks like it covers the voices of actors, thus movie samples on records, and I can't get behind anything that would limit that in a million years. It seems like laws like this could very well throw the baby out with the bathwater. Then again, if you're a studio executive and you want today's hottest stars slated to appear in the 23rd X-Men sequel at some point down the line, maybe clutching the baby and the bathwater with an unbreakable grip suits your needs nicely.
It's a tough call and I have to think it through some more, though I have to say that legally limiting the use of any artistic raw material in its relation to the use of technology, in terms of derivative works, is something I don't really care to endorse. That having been said, I hope that I'm never digitally edited into looking like I'm doing or saying anything terribly stupid - if you ever catch me doing something obnoxious on tape, please chalk it up to the digital age being upon us.
