The Other Writers Strike
On Friday, Nov. 2, 2007, the Writers Guild of America called for its members to strike after contract negotiations fell through. It began in earnest the following Monday, forcing producers of the 80th Annual Academy Awards telecast to scramble. With just over three months to go before the awards show’s broadcast on Feb. 24, 2008, what could they possibly do? In the end it worked out , as WGA members agreed to a new contract and ended the strike on February 12, giving Oscars planners 11 days to write the show. Master of ceremonies Jon Stewart and his Daily Show writing staff were able to create a functional awards show in that span.
The 2007-08 writers strike ended just in time for there to be an Oscars in 2008. Twenty years prior, however, the 60th Annual Academy Awards faced a similar dilemma with an entirely different outcome. The WGA went on strike on March 7, a mere 35 days before the Oscars’ April 11 scheduled telecast. With even less time to prepare and no writers to help prepare the awards show, the Academy Awards production team was forced to improvise.
The result? Three and a half hours of awkwardly long film clips, abbreviated presenter introductions, attempts at improvisation, and Chevy Chase picking his nose on live television.
Talking Without Words
According to the New York Times, the 1988 writers strike was the longest in the WGA’s history. The previous record-holder was the 1960 writers strike, which it surpassed by a single day.
The Academy requested a waiver from the WGA on March 10, but the guild hastily denied the request when talks broke down. Luckily for producer Samuel Goldwyn, Jr., the strike wasn’t necessarily news. Negotiations began in mid-January, and by the time Goldwyn’s writing team left for the picket lines, the Oscars telecast had some backbone:
[When] the strike was called, the three writers mapping out the show — Ernest Lehman, Melville Shavelson and Jack Rose — already had been hard at work plotting out the evening with the help of index cards spread across Lehman’s pool table. By the time the three were forced to put down their pencils, they estimated they had already completed 80%-90% of the show’s “book.”
[Goldwyn] recalls that the writers already had done a lot of work to streamline the presenters’ introductions, eliminating much of the comic banter that often had fallen flat in previous years. “The first thing we did,” he says of the prestrike planning, “was cut that out of the show.”
Once the strike forced the writers’ departure, of course, the opportunity for last-minute rewrites was lost. But Goldwyn already had enlisted Chevy Chase as host, along with a lineup of presenters heavy on comic talent such as Robin Williams and Billy Crystal. (Via THR)
In addition to Chase, Williams, and Crystal, John Candy and Eddie Murphy were also brought on board as presenters. The reason for so many comedians in the lineup? Their ability to improvise would help carry the show during its duller (i.e. unscripted or not revised) moments. At least, that was the idea.
At Least The Reviews Were Written (And Rewritten)
Instead, what happened was three hours and 33 minutes of a mess. In a Los Angeles Times review, the paper’s then-television critic, Howard Rosenberg compared the evening’s excitement to that of opening an envelope:
They should have hired a streaker. They should have hired Jimmy Swaggart. They should have brought back Sacheen Littlefeather. They should have set off cherry bombs. Anything.
Monday night’s Academy Awards telecast on ABC was the Michael Dukakis and George Bush of TV awards programs: parched, drab and leaden. You kept hoping they’d draft Mario Cuomo. (Via Los Angeles Times)
Rosenberg and many others especially didn’t care for Chase’s demeanor as host. Without any refined material to work with, and banned from writing anything new on the spot by WGA member regulations, Chase was left defenseless in front of the mostly writer-less crowd:
Most grating: Host Chevy Chase’s personal jokes with himself. (Via Los Angeles Times)
Despite the comedian’s better-liked effort as co-host in 1987, the Saturday Night Live alum’s inability to use newly written or rewritten material put him (and just about everyone else on stage) at a disadvantage, hence the incredibly awkward, long, and flashy opening ceremony in the first video above.
The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword (In Hollywood)
Because Chase and the other actor-comedians were brought on for their acting abilities only, they were handicapped as performers who typically write their own performances. This at least granted them access to the ceremonies. However, most WGA members boycotted the awards show and manned the picket lines outside.
But in typical Hollywood-loves-the-underdog fashion, many of the winners in the non-writing categories actually thanked their films’ writers:
In a marked contrast to previous years, the writers of Academy Award-winning films were thanked by actors, directors and even producers. (Via Los Angeles Times)
When Michael Douglas approached the podium with his Best Actor statue in hand for Wall Street, he spent a great deal of time thanking writers Stanley Weiser and Oliver Stone. Much of his praise went to Stone, much of whose presence was “in” the film, and Douglas’s famous character, Gordon Gekko.
Then there’s James Bond himself, Sean Connery. The crowd favorite won Best Supporting Actor for his role in The Untouchables, and when he took his turn to express thanks, he did two things: make fun of his wife and wish for an end to the writers strike.
Connery’s wish — real or otherwise — finally came true nearly four months later when a tentative agreement between guild members and producers was formally announced on August 3.
