Movie Industry Secrecy
When I first started working on feature films I thought the security that surrounded these things was a little silly - both what's considered a secret and how these secrets are protected. Who cares whether anyone knows that Annakin rides a lizard around a cave? I've finally figured out a good way to explain what the big deal is, and why they're choosing to protect things this way.
Let's say that I'm a fancy digital artist. I've presented a paper on ripping skin last year, and how to cover that ripping skin with thick animal fur. And let's say that I announce that I'm working on the new Aquaman movie. And let's say that some insane comic nerd reads this. The comic nerd might assume that my expertise is required because there's some fur-covered, skin-ripping, transforming creature in the new Aquaman movie. And he might think "wait a minute, there's freakin' *werewolves* fighting Aquaman?" And he might send this message to hundreds of his comic nerd friends, who work themselves up into a fit of anger about this stupid, stupid direction that the "Aquaman" director is taking because nobody could ever direct a decent film in which Aquaman fights werewolves. And suddenly the production has a problem on its hands. Six months from release, while half of the movie might not even be shot yet, the "buzz" has already pronounced this film a dud. Millions of dollars of advertising need to be added to the budget to counteract the negative ads, all because I couldn't keep my mouth shut.
Or let me take a much less hypothetical situation about "Superman Returns". A year ago I knew that there was a scene in Superman Returns where Superman hovers outside of Lois Lane's house. I'd also heard that in at least one draft of the script Superman was supposed to be tipsy from drinking with Jimmy Olsen at the bar and his impairment caused the plane to break apart in the following Shuttle Disaster sequence. Then I went to the San Diego Comic-Con, where at the Q&A session many people told Brian Singer that they loved Superman like the father they never had, that they'd dressed up like Superman when they were kids, and that they were personally attached to the character in a way unique to his character. I realized: "how would these fans react if I told them that in the new movie that their childhood hero would be acting like an obsessed, creepy stalker or an incompetent bumbling drunk?" The public outcry could have completely derailed the film, gotten members of the production fired, or sent the whole thing back through another incarnation of rewrites. And it all would have happened without good reason, since the major pitfalls seem to have been avoided and the movie seems to be getting pretty good reviews, even from the hardcore fans that I worried about last year.
Keeping my clients' work confidential is partly about preventing people from judging events in midstream and part Uncertainty Principle observer effect. You cannot observe the phenomenon without changing it, and by minimizing the observation until it's ready to go you minimize the unintended changes.
Let's say that I'm a fancy digital artist. I've presented a paper on ripping skin last year, and how to cover that ripping skin with thick animal fur. And let's say that I announce that I'm working on the new Aquaman movie. And let's say that some insane comic nerd reads this. The comic nerd might assume that my expertise is required because there's some fur-covered, skin-ripping, transforming creature in the new Aquaman movie. And he might think "wait a minute, there's freakin' *werewolves* fighting Aquaman?" And he might send this message to hundreds of his comic nerd friends, who work themselves up into a fit of anger about this stupid, stupid direction that the "Aquaman" director is taking because nobody could ever direct a decent film in which Aquaman fights werewolves. And suddenly the production has a problem on its hands. Six months from release, while half of the movie might not even be shot yet, the "buzz" has already pronounced this film a dud. Millions of dollars of advertising need to be added to the budget to counteract the negative ads, all because I couldn't keep my mouth shut.
Or let me take a much less hypothetical situation about "Superman Returns". A year ago I knew that there was a scene in Superman Returns where Superman hovers outside of Lois Lane's house. I'd also heard that in at least one draft of the script Superman was supposed to be tipsy from drinking with Jimmy Olsen at the bar and his impairment caused the plane to break apart in the following Shuttle Disaster sequence. Then I went to the San Diego Comic-Con, where at the Q&A session many people told Brian Singer that they loved Superman like the father they never had, that they'd dressed up like Superman when they were kids, and that they were personally attached to the character in a way unique to his character. I realized: "how would these fans react if I told them that in the new movie that their childhood hero would be acting like an obsessed, creepy stalker or an incompetent bumbling drunk?" The public outcry could have completely derailed the film, gotten members of the production fired, or sent the whole thing back through another incarnation of rewrites. And it all would have happened without good reason, since the major pitfalls seem to have been avoided and the movie seems to be getting pretty good reviews, even from the hardcore fans that I worried about last year.
Keeping my clients' work confidential is partly about preventing people from judging events in midstream and part Uncertainty Principle observer effect. You cannot observe the phenomenon without changing it, and by minimizing the observation until it's ready to go you minimize the unintended changes.