NOT La La Land

NOT La La Land By Jacob Krueger [/spb_text_block] [divider type="standard" text="Go to top" full_width="no" width="1/1" el_position="first last"] [spb_text_block title="NOT La La Land" pb_margin_bottom="no" pb_border_bottom="no" width="1/1" el_position="first last"] I had planned this week to talk about La La Land. But with the new executive order barring refugees, immigrants and green card holders from our country, I want to use this podcast for something much more important. As filmmakers, writers, actors, directors, producers, executives, we have a sacred responsibility to our audience. Our films and TV shows shape the narrative of this country, and the belief systems of the hundreds of millions of people who see them. Our movies and TV Shows can shape the world for the better. Shows like Will and Grace and Queer Eye For the Straight Guy, for example, completely changed the landscape for gay rights in America. By breaking the taboos of putting openly gay characters into leading roles, these shows introduced a mainstream audience to a kind of person they might otherwise have judged or feared, and allowing them to get to know them as human beings. They brought gay characters into mainstream living rooms, and allowed people to get to know them and love them. And by doing so, they changed the world. And what’s interesting is that these characters that changed the world were far from perfectly depicted. Far from the complex portraits that we’d see in later in the shows that followed like Transparent. In fact, these shows were rife with cliches and stereotypes, presenting the kinds of gay characters that mainstream audiences expected, embracing and normalizing and humanizing the cliches, rather than fighting them. In many ways, the flaws of these shows were part of their power. They allowed the shows to meet their audiences where they were, rather than where their writers wished their audiences would be. Although at that time, putting a gay character in the lead was obviously a political act, these were not written as political shows. They didn’t get up on a soap box and tell people what to think, or demonize their audiences for their view of the world. They simply invited their audiences into the lives of their characters, and by doing so, they allowed millions of people to actually change their views, without even realizing they were changing. In many ways, the most powerful political movies and TV shows are often the ones that are not overtly political. Because it’s these shows that shape our worldview from the inside, sneaking past our defenses of what we think we believe, and slowly changing the way we view the world. Which is why I want to implore you, as writers, as directors, as producers, as actors, as artists, as filmmakers, to recognize the power of mainstream Hollywood movies and TV shows. These movies are not just popcorn movies. These TV shows are not just mind numbing entertainment. These movies and shows are the mythologies that shape our world. Working on us, through subtle repetition, to shape our view of the world. Powerful because they don’t appear political, because they don’t trigger our intellectual defenses. For years, we’ve dismissed crappy reality programming like The Apprentice as mindless entertainment, not as the storytelling that shapes the worldview of America. But in the wake of this election, we can now see the political power of even the silliest reality show, to shape the worldview of millions of people. To take an erratic businessman, and shape him into such a powerful symbol of success, that even in the face of countless contradictory facts, for many people that belief cannot be shaken. People don’t attach to facts. People attach to characters. They learn from characters how to understand their world, how to make sense of their own questions and emotions, what it is to be a woman or be a man, how to make sense of the confusions and challenges of life. They trust characters, or distrust characters, because they connect to them as people, not because of the sum of the facts about them. People’s political views are not about information. That’s why political campaigns are not about information. All of the information about Donald Trump did not make one bit of difference, and all of the information about Hillary Clinton did not make one bit of difference. It’s the emotional response that creates action. There is actually neurological research on this. If you tell people that there are thousands of children starving in Africa -- which there are -- and have been since our parents were children, nobody takes action. But you show people one picture of a boy in Aleppo, and suddenly people want to do something. If you want to move people you must have characters. Without characters, your information means nothing. And without characters that we care about, your information means nothing. Just like Will and Grace, and Queer Eye For The Straight Guy, The Apprentice was powerful precisely because it was not overtly political. Because its message was hidden under the colorful candy shell of mindless entertainment. But really what this show was doing was educating a vast number of Americans, who had very little experience with business, that this was what success looked like: power games and “you’re fired!” Nevermind that, at least in my experience, anyone who has actually started a company could easily tell you that if you tried to run a it like this, you’d be out of business in a month. Nevermind the overwhelming evidence proving the detrimental effects of these kinds of demoralizing behaviours. Nevermind the paradigm shift we’ve seen as the most successful companies in America, (Google, for example), have realized that real innovation and success stems from communication with and empowerment of employees, and not from intimidation and punishment. Nevermind the multiple bankruptcies, and the many allegations of fraud and lawsuits against Trump’s companies. Nevermind the Yahoo! Finance article showing that Donald Trump would have been 10 billion dollars richer if he ceased trying to run his business 30 years ago and instead simply invested his father’s money in an unmanaged index fund. Nevermind the fact that even the most ardent Trump supporter would most likely hate being treated this way by their own boss. The Apprentice offered its own, admittedly far more entertaining, version of reality. And inadvertently taught a vast segment of the population that this was how it worked. No wonder, then, that even as experts from all parties have looked on in horror at the carnage of firings, resignations, and slash and burn executive orders of Trump’s first weeks in office, so many of his supporters are feeling jubilation rather than terror. They’ve been taught that this is how you “drain the swamp” and “get things done.” And they believe what they’ve been taught, because The Apprentice didn’t come at them with an overt political agenda. Rather, it showed them a version of reality, and allowed them to come to their conclusions on their own. Now maybe I’m wrong. Maybe my own experience building a company, and the research of countless experts, and the business model of many of the most successful companies in America is built on a flawed premise. Maybe bankruptcies are (as Trump claimed) “smart” for business, and power games and the fear of “you’re fired” will someday be proven to be the best form of inspiration for employees. Maybe you believe that everything I believe is wrong. I welcome your disagreement with me on the issues. Because I believe that the purpose of art is to create a dialogue. Not to preach to the choir, or to moralize, but to reach out to those who believe differently. To stop trying to win the argument, or villainize the opposing side, and instead try to hear where they are coming from. I believe the job of the artist is to attack your own beliefs, and see if the truth you believe in can withstand the strongest argument of the other side. That said, I believe that the “you’re fired” philosophy is inherently destructive for companies and inherently destructive for America. I believe that it’s a positive vision of building something beautiful, rather than the guarded fear of those who might destroy it, that leads to success, whether you’re a businessman, a politician, or a filmmaker. I believe that’s what our founding fathers had in mind when they build our democracy, and I believe that’s what the best leaders have in mind as they lead. I believe that in order to build something great, you must trust and empower others (even those who think differently from you), and open yourself to the potential of being terribly hurt. I’ve built my own company, Jacob Krueger Studio around that vision. And at times I’ve suffered those hurts. But if I was going to build a screenplay about that experience, or around that belief, I wouldn’t just look for the strengths in my argument. I’d also look for the weaknesses, the flaws in my belief. I’d look for the greatest fears of a person who disagreed with me, or my own greatest fears of what might happen if I was wrong, and allow them to come true. I’d put my character in a situation where he empowered the wrong person, and lost control of his own company. I’d explore a time when his or her refusal to fire someone destructive caused him to suffer the worst possible consequences. I’d bombard him with the challenge of competing with other companies that didn’t share his moral beliefs. I’d let everything that could go wrong, go wrong. I’d let him do the wrong thing and be rewarded, and do the right thing and be punished. And I’d see if that truth could withstand that onslaught, or if my belief or the character’s belief changed. And hopefully, by testing my own ideas in that way, rather than ending up in the same place I’d started,