June 27, 2011 by Ken Goldstein - 4 Comments

Your Gun, Your Badge, Your Honor

Last week I attended a panel discussion at the LA Film Festival called Your Gun and Your Badge whose participants included:

Robert Crais (Writer, Cagney & Lacey, Baretta; author of the Elvis Cole mysteries)
David Milch (Writer, Hill Street Blues; creator NYPD Blue)
José Padilha (Director, Elite Squad, Elite Squad: The Enemy Within)
Gerald Petievich (ex-Secret Service agent and author, To Live and Die in L.A.)
Moderated by Los Angeles Times contributor Mark Olsen

Full disclosure, I worked for David Milch more than 20 years ago and consider him not only one of the finest working writers today, but an immensely impactful teacher. I hadn’t heard him speak on the writing craft since I worked for him so long ago and arranged a series of lectures he gave, which carried forward the ethos he previously established when he taught creative writing at the university level.

Mark Olsen of the Los Angeles Times set the tone for the panel by noting our location downtown, the heart of so many noir tales and a reality base for police activity that defines many episodes from which fiction is derived. All of the writers shared varying perspectives from successful careers as storytellers, but what struck me most about the discussion was its common theme focusing on authenticity. This notion of establishing the set of norms that constitute a world view and then remaining true to them transcended police work in my mind, it even transcended the procedural staging of those norms in the form of entertainment. In approaching their craft, the writers universally noted the mandate for extensive research as a requirement of their approach, and a bottom line almost moral responsibility to understand the details of the world they would portray before they could begin interpreting it.

Gerald Petievich, a 20 year Secret Service agent turned novelist and later screenwriter, repeatedly used the term “verisimilitude” to describe the requirements of his characters. Jose Padilha, who was sued in Brazil for his portrayal of violence as commonality in the Elite Squad, referenced the suit as evidence he had achieved the authenticity he sought. Robert Crais, attempting to define process in his approach to character development, quoted the renowned author Joseph Wambaugh who wondered, “Does the cop work the case, or does the case work the cop?” David Milch talked in detail of how we watch characters struggle to overcome their failings, summing up his reflection with the powerful descriptor: “If there is a God he wants us to be honest; if there isn’t, it’s even more important.”

As I kept hearing these words become almost the foundations of a chorus — authenticity, verisimilitude, honesty — it occurred to me that so much of what we consume as popular showmanship is experienced in the form of escapism. Our hunger for Super Hero movies seems insatiable, and with occasional exceptions, the documentary film as a form of commercial entertainment has seen better days. Yet authenticity is a broader construct than a simple portrayal of reality — as was noted by the panel, Ziegfield was as committed to getting every stitch in every costume right, not because the audience could necessarily see it, but because whoever was wearing the costume had to know it was correct to convey the same notion of authenticity under that banner.

The consistency of this message of the artist’s commitment to authenticity was inspiring and thought-provoking. Anyone can pay lip service to the notion of honesty, but an audience can feel the writer’s dedication in the work when presented. But what about in the workplace, is our commitment to verisimilitude as profound as that of the author? Is it as pronounced as it should be? Is there a relevancy in this ethos to how we approach day to day business, the seriousness of our research, the authenticity of our value propositions and commitments to colleagues and customers?

It occurred to me that I had never heard a panel discussion at any business conference I ever attended even remotely like this one, certainly not with top dogs of equivalent stature in their respective fields who have earned the permission to delve in such expression. Thinking about the headlines of late — of homes with mortgages underwater, of securities backed by worthless collateral, of for profit schools leaving students in debt without marketable skills, of a once trusted giant of personal financial management now behind bars — I wonder where is the verisimilitude in all that. Surely a scam is born every few minutes, without them there would be much less to write about, but the creators of products and services might do well to see intrinsic value in the pride of authenticity, the self-knowledge and reflection that it is expected of us no differently from the creators of books, television shows, and movies. Just as we can abandon any form of media if the hard work of noble construction is not present, so can a brand be abandoned by customers in a world of choice.

The applicability of authentic commitment seems less metaphorical than an actual model of success, where the judge is first oneself, followed then by making the offer available to others. A scene depicted without requisite deliberation is a skit. A brand evangelized without a consistent promise is a logo. It’s not hard to see the distance, but it takes more than words to close the gap.

We all crave authenticity. We all crave verisimilitude. We all crave honesty. Imagine the power of unlocking the value in that inspiration in everything we do. The storyteller may lead, but we all can have a great deal of skin in this game if we hold ourselves accountable for the same level of commitment to detail, rigorous study, ongoing iteration, and a set of beliefs that reflects equal parts respect for the subject and the audience. That to me is a story worth telling, experiencing, and sharing.

It’s not just about police work, it’s about all work.

June 14, 2011 by Ken Goldstein - 0 comments

In Honor of E3 – Drawing Lines

And now for something completely different…

E3 — a.k.a. the annual Electronic Entertainment Expo — was held again earlier this month in Los Angeles, where many hope that it will stay. If you have never attended E3, it cannot be adequately described in words, it is an experience of the senses — loud, visual, politically incorrect, a descent into adolescent decadence as long as what you really want to do is see the latest in new video and computer games coming soon to a device near you, currently invented or otherwise.

I didn’t get to the show floor this year, just to a nice dinner with former colleagues and some interesting meetings, but immediately prior to the show, I was asked by a college student studying for a degree (gasp!) in videogames for my opinion (horrors!) on issues of censorship in game land. Here I provide my largely unedited memo to that fellow, to which he recently responded my material made the cut and he received an A on his presentation. We’ll see if you agree…

College Student Question 1:

What is “the line” for videogame developers in regard to deciding what kind of content is not included?

KG Response:

There are two answers to this question, artistic and business. In terms of artistic, the question is no different from any other art form (literature, painting, film, etc): is it true or “felicitous” to the content? By felicitous the artist implies the necessary use of whatever element of free expression is necessary to make his or her point with the best tactic available to advance the project. Of course this is subjective, but that’s what separates an artist from an amateur, effective application of subjectivity. If as an artist you need to use violence in a certain way to make a point or advance the story, you do so in the most honest and appropriate manner for the effect you need to advance the work. The opposite of felicitous in creative endeavor is gratuitous, meaning the decision is made purely for commercial reason, shock value, impact, or audience effect, what is most often referred to as hack work. When you see a string of cool special effects and all you can say is, “wow, cool special effects” and there is no other point, that’s gratuitous and likely should be edited. An artist uses a filter of appropriateness based on vision, not implication.

On the business or practical side, it is really quite simple, just like the movie business. Someone else is financing your work, whatever rating the entity financing the work wants, you edit to achieve that rating. No question, the marketing reasons will always trump artistic expression when someone else is financing your work to get the best possible return on investment they can. If you don’t like that, finance it yourself, but you will have a very high risk of losing your money because with financing comes distribution. Abundant marketing and promotion dollars are most often provided by those who have the most skin in the game in a double down strategy, and they are by no means free of hooks, quite the contrary, but with all the noise and competition for mindshare, a good publisher can add tremendous value when you are aligned. With trust established, the editorial dialogue between publisher and developer can also be immensely satisfying.

College Student Question 2:

How do game developers decide on the level of sensitive, questionable, and possibly offensive content in their games?

KG Response:

To be honest, one of the reasons I took a hiatus from the business a few years ago is because the artistic sensibility was not advancing at the same level as the technology. The majority of auteurs in game development tend to push the technology and pay lip service to its meaning, if any. In most other art forms the artist’s desire to advance spiritually and intellectually tends to develop with the craft and with age. I don’t see that in games as much. It is a very young industry, most often with very short life cycles driving the creative process, which can be great for business because the craft means to sell peer-to-peer, but in terms of thoughtfulness about the greater art form and what goes in and what comes out, I don’t see enough introspection. There are a few, like Will Wright and Shigeru Miyamoto, whose scope has developed with their craft and their tools, but mostly it’s the next generation simply trying to “out cool” the competition. Sequels and branding increasingly become overpowering forces over freeform imagination and exploration as capital requirements increase, just like movies. That’s just the way it is, not good or bad, just reality.

Zynga has changed some of that with a new paradigm for lightning fast development and iteration in social contexts that is much less demanding of production values, which makes them less dependent on eye candy. The fast rise of relatively cheap mobile apps is also bringing back a level of independence that allows more experimentation and creative risk. Yet it would be great to see a few gifted minds really explode the give-and-take storytelling platform (you can’t say “interactive” anymore without drawing sneers) taking a weed wacker to clichés and with subject matter beyond outer space creatures, monster machine guns, dungeon royalty, and various interpretations of the technocrat’s apocalypse.

College Student Question 3:

How seriously do game companies take the critics who claim that video games are terrible for children and the cause of societies problems?

KG response:

Game companies worry about customers and sales. When sales stop because of this or that element, they stop putting it in the game. This too de facto is neither good or bad, it just is. If PR makes a game sell, it’ good. If it makes a game stop selling, it’s bad. This is a business like any other business. If you are not fully responsive to customers you will go out of business. Do you think the people who make Oreos had a sudden revelation about trans fat? No, it made the headlines as a direct link to poor health, sales dipped, and now you have Oreos without trans fat. That is the way capitalism works, and whether it has a spiritual ground is irrelevant, it is the best way known for a business to work. Customer opinion is EVERYTHING because sales reflect customer opinion, especially in a world of social media and internet exchange of unedited public opinion. Noise will always be noise, but sales are not noise.

So what do you think, did we earn our A? Or do you think differently about the lines of censorship in gaming, how they are applied or how they should be applied? Please join the dialogue publicly or privately. Game On!