Shut-It-Down Strategy Is Effective, Execs Concede – The Hollywood Reporter

Illustration by Zohar Lazar

Right now, Warren Leight — the veteran showrunner of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and Writers Guild strike captain — is losing sleep to make sure a TV program doesn’t make it to air. He’s a key figure in his union’s pivot to embrace a more targeted picketing strategy, which seeks to shut down productions.

“This morning we had two dozen people at 2 a.m. out on the street, blocking Billions, which is metaphorically perfect,” he told The Hollywood Reporter’s TV’s Top 5 podcast on May 24, discussing a recent expansion from show-of-force protests at corporate headquarters to more disruptive actions meant to affect bottom lines and reorient power dynamics. The strategy change-up emerged from the membership’s rank and file, he says, although the guild brass now “realizes that this is a pretty powerful thing.”

Leight, drawing on connections from his long history as a TV writer and showrunner as well as his high profile on social media, has, along with a growing number of WGA counterparts, helped organize a series of successful labor actions — small groups assembling within hours, whose protest lines are often respected (and sometimes joined) by Teamsters, IATSE members and other sympathetic allies. The result is production shutdowns. “The whole idea is to empty the [content] pipeline,” he says.

The closures have crossed the country, from Loot and Good Trouble in Los Angeles to The Chi in Chicago and Evil in New York. 

Earlier in May, writers picketed the on-location L.A. shoot of writer-director Aziz Ansari’s Lionsgate film Good Fortune for about two and a half days, until production was suspended indefinitely on May 19. Picketer Kyra Jones (Woke, Queens) says these actions “hit [employers] in the pockets harder than anything else that we’re doing. And so hopefully that will get them to get us back on track and get us back working.” Adds Lauren Conn (The Lost Symbol), who also joined the Good Fortune picket line, “We have to make sure that no writing is happening across the board.”

The focus on shutdowns, which rely on the cooperation of fellow workplace unions, is a remarkable shift for the Writers Guild. During its previous strike in 2007-08, when it found itself far more isolated and at odds with its nominal labor allies, there was no equivalent strategy. Now the guild finds itself the beneficiary of unity, in alignment with the fractious Hollywood worker caucus of other unions, each nursing their own set of at times overlapping grievances, and eager to soften the ground for their own contract negotiations. For its part, the WGA declined to “discuss the specifics” of the shutdown strategy. 

On average, a lost day of production costs companies between $200,000 and $300,000. Insurance policies don’t cover shutdowns that are caused by the strike. Leading industry underwriter Allianz notes to THR, “It is still early days and too soon to speculate on any impact on future insurance premiums.”

Like the pandemic’s recent effect on studio slates, some of the in-progress productions abandoned during the strike may not return when it’s over, top company decision-makers say. Considerations will include the number of remaining episodes left to film in the season, the availability of the cast and the importance of the show to its platform.

Multiple high-level executives who spoke with THR on the condition of anonymity used the same word to describe the guerrilla-style activities: “effective.” It’s prompted an ongoing cat-and-mouse game. Rapid-response units of WGA members mobilize to picket at studio gates and at location shoot sites based on tip-offs. Although L.A. location permits are public record (neighborhood filming notices are posted ahead of production, while production activity is released 48 hours after it has ended), at least some of the actionable information, especially the more last-minute intelligence, is originating from sympathetic members of other unions.

Picketing shifts often begin, end or persist overnight to ensure that their lines won’t be crossed. To counter these efforts, some productions have circulated call sheets featuring incorrect call times and, in the case of Billions, have bused crewmembers to set, potentially to ease their way across the picket lines and allow them some anonymity. 

Jones recalls showing up to one production-targeted picket at Hollywood’s Raleigh Studios and finding no production activity occurring. “No one came — they either pushed the shoot back or they moved to another place, or maybe we got the wrong information,” she says. 

Lindsay Dougherty, the Hollywood Teamsters leader whose drivers have been turning away from the picket lines (her organization is scheduled for negotiations with the AMPTP next year), says she’s unsurprised by the WGA’s move to shut down productions. “If this was our strike,” she says, “we would be doing the same thing.”

Key grip and stunt rigger Wade Cordts is the administrator of a Facebook group that has become a conduit for crewmember-sourced production information to WGA picketers. He believes brimming anger across the industry has created a unique moment of solidarity. “Right now, everybody’s ‘below the line,’ ” Cordts, a member of both SAG-AFTRA and IATSE, observes. “It’s these megacorporations that are trying to break labor.” 

One programmer observes that the shutdowns are putting crewmembers out of work on projects for which the writers have already been paid. “Who is this really hurting?” they say. “Is it really hurting the studios? Not really.” The sentiment is echoed by a top production executive on another lot, who adds: “It’s all expense-driven. Saves them on taxes.”

One veteran showrunner and longtime WGA member doesn’t buy the notion that there’s any silver lining for the studios, considering that spin. “If it’s saving them money, shutting all shows down and getting out of showbiz will really save them all the money,” this person says. Another seasoned studio player agrees, pointing out that any financial upside is short-term: “The whole point of a studio is to be in production. There were projections of what those [stopped] shows would make for us. That’s a loss.”

Regardless, labor experts observe that, for the writers and their guild, the shutdowns are more broadly about flexing their muscles, cultivating their alliances and lifting their spirits.

“It stops production, but it’s also a way to advertise strength and determination,” explains Georgetown professor Michael Kazin, who studies union power.

Adds University of Rhode Island professor Erik Loomis, author of A History of America in Ten Strikes: “Keeping up morale is critically important. Otherwise, people slip away — they look for other work, they cross the picket line.”

City University of New York professor Joshua B. Freeman, a scholar of factory work, concurs. “Doing something as a group really maintains solidarity,” he says, and production shutdowns in the entertainment sector, requiring the cooperation of workers in other unions, reinforces camaraderie. “If you’re looking at the long-term power dynamic between these workers and these employers, a visible solidarity shows the employer that they’re not just taking on just one isolated group. They are taking on everyone.”

As Dougherty, the Hollywood Teamsters chief, puts it regarding tacit and overt support of the writers’ shutdown strategy, “It’s a sacrifice that everybody’s making because everybody wants the strike to end as fast as possible. That’s the hope — that the productions will all come back sooner, because these projects obviously are important to the employers.” 

A version of this story first appeared in the May 31 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.