Creative necessity
Dana Goodyear at the New Yorker takes a look at “the purge” so far.
I’m calling it the Purge,” a friend who works in Hollywood told me, a few days into the post-Weinstein era. Off the top of his head, he listed half a dozen men in the entertainment business whose behavior, he hoped, would no longer be condoned. In the weeks to come, they started toppling, joined by others, in a seemingly never-ending cascade, the world’s longest domino trick. The morning-news anchor, the worldly talk-show host, the animation genius with the awful shirts, “feminist” men, liberals, tortured artists, moguls, icons, “bad boys,” funny guys, even the folksy curmudgeon from public radio: they are being fired; stepping down; awkwardly apologizing, engendering ridicule and pique; or defending themselves and inviting rage.
The self-important literary editor is another worth mentioning.
Goodyear tells a very interesting story about a writers’ assistant on “Friends,” Amaani Lyle.
The daughter of a touring jazz musician, she had grown up in a middle-class suburb of Los Angeles and attended progressive private schools, before studying film at Emerson College, in Boston. She was used to being the only woman of color in the room. “Friends,” then in its sixth season on NBC, was one of the most watched shows on television; being in the writers’ room meant a potential credit that would propel her career.
Lyle’s job was to write down what the writers talked about. According to testimony she gave later, several of them talked about anal sex, oral sex, “fucking,” “pussies,” “schlongs,” what color hair they preferred women to have, what size breasts, and how one of the writers had missed his chance with one of the show’s stars. They referred to a lead actress as “having dried branches in her vagina”; one writer “frequently brought up his fantasy about an episode of the show in which one of the male characters enters the bathroom while a female character is showering and rapes her.” They doodled offensive anatomical drawings, vocalized pleasure while pretending to masturbate, altered a calendar in the writers’ room so that it read “pert tits” instead of “persistence” and “penis” instead of “happiness.”
“I can’t even say I was offended,” Lyle told me recently. “That’s how steeped in the culture I was. It was such a ubiquitous thing that it would’ve seemed off to have them not do that stuff.” She didn’t want to change the dynamic of the writers’ room; she wanted to diversify the show’s all-white cast. At the time, NBC was openly referred to as “No Black Characters.” Lyle, whose previous job had been at “Kenan & Kel,” on Nickelodeon, pitched a story line involving an African-American love interest for Joey, the character played by Matt LeBlanc.
After four months, Lyle was fired, ostensibly for typing too slowly.
She sued for wrongful termination and racial discrimination and lost, but her lawyer went on pursuing a sexual harassment claim.
The writers didn’t generally dispute the behavior Lyle had described; instead, they made a novel argument, on First Amendment grounds, that their behavior was a “creative necessity,” indispensable to the making of a show about a group of unmarried adult friends. The raunchy patter, so long as it wasn’t directed at Lyle, was part of their job. An amicus brief, signed by Steven Bochco, David Milch, Norman Lear, Diane English, and a hundred and twenty-seven other writers, argued that “the process creators go through to capture the necessary magic is inexact, counterintuitive, nonlinear, often painful—and above all, delicate.” Self-censorship could damage their productivity.
That’s an interesting idea. But is it true? Is it credible? Is it really the case that one can’t write a good screenplay without musing about rape scenes for the female characters? Does that apply to everything? Do writers also need to talk without inhibition about fantasies of torture, genocide, lynching, enslavement, in order to write a good screenplay? How do we know they wouldn’t have been better writers if they had inhibited themselves that way?
A dissenting amicus brief, filed by a group of legal scholars, argued that the habits of the writers’ room “effectively maintained an exclusionary culture that systematically, if unintentionally, marginalizes female writers and writers’ assistants.” A First Amendment exception to sexual-harassment rules would “essentially sanction this form of exclusion in the entire television writing sector.” In 2006, the California Supreme Court sided with the writers. After that, the female television writer told me, Warner Bros. began triumphantly including Lyle’s affidavit in mandatory sexual-harassment training sessions: “It was used as proof that anything goes in a writers’ room, and there’s not really such a thing as sexual harassment in that context, because to be creative you have to be able to say whatever comes to mind.”
Some women do what it takes to avoid being fired, but they’re not all happy about doing it.
One female television writer in her thirties, who has worked in a number of mostly male writers’ rooms, said, “I’ve been told I’m very staffable because I’m fun. I can take a lot of abuse and still crack a joke.” When she started out, her representatives told her that, as a woman, she would need to climb the ladder rung by rung; she understood that, if she ever wanted her own series, she could not get fired along the way. On a show where the female creator had been fired for being “crazy” and “difficult,” she developed methods of self-preservation, inuring herself to the indignities—such as an executive saying, as he listened to her pitch a sex scene, that he was “getting hard already,” and her male colleagues telling her to take it as a compliment. She regrets passing her methods down, teaching other women how not to ruffle the men in charge. “I had a friend who was interviewing for a staff writing job,” she told me. “I gave her the advice to have thick skin and a light heart. I felt like such a betrayer of my feminist values. What I was saying was, You have to seem fun while being abused. Everyone wants to have a good time while at work.”
Other women just get out. That of course is one reason there are so few women making movies so it’s one reason movies are so male-centric.
Kim Masters is an investigative journalist at the Hollywood Reporter.
Hollywood, Masters says, has long operated like a men-only club. “This town is shot through with a culture of intimidation, boys having fun, going to Las Vegas, hiring hookers. They don’t want female colleagues anywhere near them. Women are not invited and not promoted. I remember Dawn Steel saying, ‘If only I could go whoring with these guys my life would be so much easier.’ ”
Still, Masters has been shocked to see how pervasive sexual harassment is, particularly at certain studios and agencies. “It’s not just one or two people,” she said. “It’s woven into the fucking fabric.”
Many of the perps still have no clue.
“My experience of coaching these people is that they really don’t see why what they did was wrong,” she said. “It’s a failure of empathy or of introspection. Or they’re just sociopaths, or they’re really stupid. There’s a range. I sit down with these guys one on one. I start by saying, ‘Why are we here?’ Some say things like ‘I was set up.’ ‘It was a witch hunt.’ ‘You should have seen what the other guys did.’ ‘She participated.’ ‘I’m a Christian.’ All these deflective things people say. They just don’t get it. The workplace is a sandbox where they play out their social stuff and their family stuff.”
Change is slow.
Wary of appearing unenlightened, companies are scrambling to put women in leadership roles. Amazon is reportedly looking at a number of female candidates to replace Roy Price. But, while it’s one thing to celebrate women moving into a few positions vacated by disgraced men, actual progress will require a change in policy at the studios and at the networks. Katherine Pope, a television executive in her forties, who insists on interviewing women and people of color when she hires directors, said that the situation is dire. Even at companies where women hold impressive titles, there are layers of white men with veto power above them.
White men who didn’t have to put up with years of bullying to get there.
This really means, of course, that every man wants to have a good time at work. When the men are having a good time like this, it’s impossible for women to have a good time – unless they are women who enjoy humiliation and abuse.
So many men have no idea – they are oblivious. Men who consider themselves allies, friends, feminists. They just casually say and do things that are difficult for women, and the women smile and grit their teeth and move on, because otherwise, we’d be flying off the handle all the time. Then we’re “ball busters”, “kill joys”, “Feminazis”. Here’s one of the things I wrote about it, dealing with a dear friend of mine who doesn’t quite get it:
https://ofliberalintent.com/blog/2017/11/20/of-predators-and-prey
Funny how behaviour that greatly resembles sexual harassment is necessary for the writing process, given that a) the program in question is G rated hence none of the ranchy stuff could possibly be included in a single episode (let alone the blatant rapey stuff); and b) behaviour that greatly resembled racial harassment would almost certainly not be defended in that same way.
I think I can kind of see a) – but I think that b) should render it nugatory.
How can I kind of see how “creative necessity” might mean babbling about stuff they couldn’t possibly use? Because the idea is that that kind of churning helps them come up with stuff they can use. I’m sure writers working on Trump skits come up with all kinds of shit that’s way too nasty to use, but the process helps produce the useable stuff.
So I think there might be some truth to the “creative necessity” claim, but I also think that’s just too bad.
I think it is only credible as a learned behaviour. I can imagine that some people have been so immersed in this kind of culture that after some time it has become some kind of ritual they need in order to be creative, just like sport rituals.
Yes, good point. They no doubt reinforced that by doing it, the way I reinforce my need for morning coffee every morning.
I’m just trying to imagine the look on the face of any serious author if you told them they had to sit around with friends and family telling rape jokes and behaving like 14 year old boys for a couple of hours before writing.
Nope, just getting a blank.
Heh, true – but I get the impression that writers’ rooms are a different matter, at least in comedy. It’s a bunch of people, for one thing, and it’s comedy, for another. They get each other going. I think I get why they think it needs to be anarchic.
I of course would rather be set on fire than work in such a place.
I can actually imagine Shakespeare (who could be pretty bawdy) sitting around with his mates being lewd and crude (by the standards of his day). I doubt there would be many jokes about dried sticks up someones vagina but then again we don’t know I guess. It just kind of devolves into ‘it’s just the way things are’ arguments, to which I’m inclined to respond ‘things are the way we make them’.