The secret is Outside It's the first Hollywood studio to sign a deal with an automated content company: Lionsgate, the makers of “John Wick” and “The Hunger Games,” has inked a deal with data-mining and research firm Runway to train sophisticated computer models on its library of intellectual property in order to speed up the creation of better-leveraged spinoffs — and ideally, on the cheap.
The corporate hype is not surprising: Runway CEO Cristobal Valenzuela emphasized in a statement to The Hollywood Reporter that “The history of art is the history of technology, and these new models are part of our ongoing effort to build innovative mediums for artistic and creative expression. The best stories are yet to be told.” Lionsgate vice chairman Michael Burns said, “Filmmakers are already excited about the potential applications of this technology to the pre- and post-production process.”
Even with the best intentions and most sophisticated technological enhancements, the most likely outcome of the automation of entertainment will be its concentration in the hands of even fewer people as our living environments become overcrowded with bot-generated garbage.
In theory, the logic is appealing enough. Hollywood’s disastrous experience with COVID/BLM/MeToo left its talent pipeline in tatters. And then came the tech industry’s large-scale language modeling. Computers can now theoretically churn out infinite audiovisual content that rivals the more vivid, more realistic, and bigger-budget CGI-laden blockbusters every day.
Don't worry, a lot of this material is perfect for silly fantasy, and that's what audiences like best, right?
More on this later. First, let us consider the dark side of trading: cheapness is a temptation, often driven by ulterior motives or by structural necessity imposed by structures that are not in themselves all that necessary.
In Hollywood's case, the cause is consolidation. On the surface, the consolidation of so many different companies into a few mega-mergers like cartels seems to fit the rules of our economic and financial system, but it is the result of the harsh realities of capitalism and competition. Today's techy young people are moving away from movies. The international market is where the big money is. It's better for profits to scrap finished films like “Batgirl” and “Coyote vs. Acme” and write them off as losses. Heartfelt movies for mature adults (i.e. fully functioning adults) don't sell, they don't scale, and worst of all, they don't spawn a cascade of derivative IP: licensing and branding deals that fill the world with action figures, backpacks, lunch boxes, phone games with in-app purchases, and more.
As I said before, on paper, it all makes sense. But why would such drastic consolidation be a good thing for an industry that is in decline in the first place? It's easy to expose the dirty secret here: it's not good for the film and television industry. The film and television industry, as we all know it, includes not only a vast array of human resources – talent, crew, production, and affiliated companies – but also the essentials – trucking, props, warehousing, catering, craft services, audio and video equipment, services, and more. The consolidation we've seen in Hollywood over the past decade has only favored the industry's largest companies.
And that favors the biggest companies in the industry. The entertainment industry as a whole is undergoing relentless consolidation. Very few people have access to it. As for the enlightening, yet depressing side quests, Latest It's the story of legendary talent mogul Irving “Poison Dwarf” Azoff and his circulating empire of A-list stars, tours, venues and cartel-like businesses.
I won’t link to updates on the central figures in the consolidation of power in the entertainment industry, like P. Diddy, but suffice it to say that the entertainment industry we should have is one free of corruption, self-interest, and institutionalized, largely automated vices.
Some say the solution is to remove more of those pesky humans from the process, as we ostensibly should in science, politics, and every other field. Human autonomy has been tried and found inadequate! At least, that's what we've been told. If all we want is cross-eyed escapism, why not hop in a pod, put on a helmet, and go sailing with the robots?
And this is the crux of the problem: we all already know that routine content production, especially on the Internet, tends to be concentrated into what might be kindly called filler or, more honestly, spam. Even with the best intentions and most coordinated technological augmentations, the most likely outcome of the automation of entertainment is that it will be concentrated in the hands of even fewer people in order to flood our living environments with bot-produced clutter.
But some might reply: “The high price may be painful to pay, but the joy and rewards are great!” We are talking about a high-class entertainment that a relatively small number of people could never have dreamed of, one that blends so completely with “real life” that these few experience a whole new form of life as semi-immortal gods (a class so coveted that they will engage in unimaginably productive competition just for the chance to participate).
Yes, visions of the most overclocked insane pleasure are needed to make up for an overall scenario as depressing as the bot-slop era we face.
Not willing to go down without a fight, industry players are now focusing on a legal counterattack, with a major lawsuit against Runway escalating up the ranks. Right nowBut if you think copyrights and trademarks are going to save us from the Bottrop Cartel, not to mention the importance of upholding the rule of law, you're missing the point. Art starts with the artist. Artists are trained, visionary people dedicated to making a true spiritual connection with their audience for the soul.
Hollywood has received its fair share of flak for turning spiritual vampirism into a money-making tool, but audiences know that the work of true artists is worth far more than a tub of popcorn, a barrel of Baja Blast, or a pretzel the size of your head.
