Screen Magazine: Vol. 28, Issue 23

Screen Magazine - Index

Screen Magazine - Screen Magazine: Vol. 28, Issue 23 - Index

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By the time you read this, the United
States may be enduring one of the most
stupefying trials of socio-economic well
being since that geek from “Saved by the
Bell” came out with a sex video: film and
TV writers may be on strike.
That’s right; the scribes behind “Grey’s
Anatomy” and “Desperate Housewives” –
part of the very same group who introduced
us to “Screech” years ago – plan to throw
down their pens unless specific demands
are met.
Some predict the fallout will stink far
beyond Hollywood’s $30 billion entertainment
industry. According former L.A. mayor Richard
Riordan, “It would affect everyone: the people
who mow your lawn and those who serve you
at restaurants.”
His words are echoed by current mayor
Antonio Villaraigosa, who told the “L.A. Times”
he was “very concerned.”
Facing a season finale loaded with doomsday
scenarios, it is difficult for the average politician
to imagine what positive benefits a strike can
produce. But to the average viewer, who has
been facing season after season of “reality
shows” that lack even the slightest imagination,
the outcome appears much different.
To begin with, a decrease in the quantity and
quality of primetime entertainment will produce
an increase in the quantity and quality of U.S.
attention spans. As TV starts to suck, our capacity
for understanding this suckiness will increase.
At the very least, this intellectual rejuvenation
will make it easier for us to understand the mix
of pop culture references and labor-related
demands that the writers are sure to scrawl
elegantly on their picket line placards. “We
bestowed Urkel unto thee, now pay the fee.”
“Don’t call Ishmael ‘til you pay his bail.”
And if the strike turns screenwriting into
one of those jobs that so-called real citizens
won’t do, well, who’s complaining about illegal
immigrant workers now? Can you say “Sabado
Gigante,” cabrón?
You might want to think about dusting off
the old high school Spanish book because we
could be living a month of Gigantic Saturdays.
Wouldn’t be such a bad thing, either. For
once we’ll actually be able to understand the
dialogue that those well-endowed hostesses
fire out like curvy Latina machine guns.
Much as I hate to see the really good
shows get sidelined, perhaps their absence
will force us to reckon with our appetite
for the unhealthy pathology that currently
dominates the airwaves.
In that light we must strike at once,
before Screech does again.
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