It was now November.
The Writer Strike arrived on schedule.
Due to the collapse of wage negotiations with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP)—where an annual demand of $200 million was met with only $52 million promised—the Writers Guild of America (WGA) took the lead and sent 11,500 screenwriters to the picket lines.
They chose to go on strike.
They demanded that Hollywood recognize the value of writers and affirm the worth of their labor.
To put it bluntly: "Pay us, pay us, pay us!"
Crowds chanted the slogan: "No Contract, No Script!"
Writers used this method to assert their professional status and prove that those quality scripts—used year after year to earn billions for the likes of NBC, Fox, ABC, Disney, Warner, and Paramount—deserved to be rewarded with both prestige and proper compensation.
The 230 Support for Writers movement wasn't limited to just writers.
If we were to list everyone backing the strike, you'd find the situation far more complex than you'd imagine.
There were directors involved: the Nolan brothers and J.J. Abrams (director of Mission Impossible and Star Trek) also took to the streets carrying signs.
There were actors as well: people like Leonardo DiCaprio, and even 71-year-old Frank Darabont.
...
Martin, however, stayed out of it.
As someone with credentials in the Screen Actors Guild, Directors Guild, and Writers Guild—and also as one of Hollywood's major capitalists—it simply wasn't appropriate for him to speak from any one standpoint. He couldn't go and strike against himself.
So he hid away in the film editing room and began the final touches on District 9.
At the same time, he kept a close eye on the editing progress of Wanted.
Although he trusted that Timur Bekmambetov wouldn't recklessly go off-script in the editing room, supervision was still a must.
...
As time passed, Christmas approached.
But the massive strike in Hollywood showed no signs of ending. Negotiations between the two sides had yet to reach a consensus.
In fact, no Hollywood writers' strike had ever concluded quickly.
The Big Six studios were unlikely to yield easily. On this front, they showed remarkable unity.
The Writers Guild declared that this strike was a marathon-style strike.
Nick Counter, the AMPTP's lead negotiator, stated that if the strike continued, there would be no way to resume negotiations.
He said, "When the barrel of a gun is pointed at our heads, we can't negotiate—doing so would be foolish."
The last collective writers' strike occurred in 1988. It lasted 22 weeks and caused over $500 million in losses to the industry.
This time, the damage was expected to be even worse. The entertainment industry had grown into a massive beast. Even without considering surrounding industries, Hollywood alone generated hundreds of billions in revenue annually.
When you include the related sectors, Hollywood's entertainment industry accounted for nearly 8% of the entire U.S. economy. According to the latest data, Hollywood film and television professionals earned over $100 billion in wages just last year.
Clearly, this industry was massive—and incredibly valuable.
That Christmas, Hollywood had no festive cheer. The shadow of the strike loomed over the entire North American entertainment sector.
To maintain discipline during the strike, the Writers Guild issued a series of strict rules: no member was allowed to start work without approval. Even writing a draft in private was prohibited. Any violators would face a $100,000 fine and possible expulsion from the guild.
As a result, many productions were inevitably put on hold.
Late-night talk shows like The Tonight Show, Jimmy Kimmel Live!, Jimmy Fallon Live!, Saturday Night Live, and The Colbert Report, all of which heavily relied on writers, were the first to feel the impact.
Next came midseason TV dramas and summer series.
The biggest issue, however, was with fall TV lineups. Fall was traditionally the peak season for advertising, and the strike cast a shadow over what was already a struggling industry.
To cope with the uncertainty of how long the strike might last, networks and media outlets began shifting toward non-scripted content, such as reality TV and foreign dramas—formats that didn't require Hollywood writers.
As 2008 began…
Hollywood still felt disoriented and adrift. The strike was still ongoing.
Some people even feared the Oscars might be affected. After all, the Golden Globes had already been scrapped. Could the Oscars be far behind?
Fortunately, just before the deadline, the Writers Guild and the AMPTP finally reached an agreement.
On top of the existing contract, writers secured an additional $130 million in income. This included increases in base salary, health insurance contributions, distribution shares, and pay for TV residuals.
The new deal gave TV writers a sense of relief. However, film writers didn't see the same level of progress, which sowed the seeds for future trouble.
Clearly, the studios used a classic tactic—divide and conquer.
And they succeeded.
Once the TV writers stepped back from the strike, over half the momentum was lost. The strike simply couldn't continue.
On February 12, it officially ended.
Emily V. Gordon, screenwriter of The Big Sick, celebrated the new deal on Twitter:
"My two favorite things to do: write, and stir up trouble—one or the other."
That sentiment summed up the tradition of Hollywood screenwriters over the decades.
Since the 1960s, Hollywood writers had launched six major strikes—more than any other sector in the entertainment industry.
This made them the most difficult group to deal with in Hollywood—always ready to fight for their rights.
Although the strike ended, its impact was massive. Shows like Desperate Housewives, 24, ER, and NCIS all halted production. The Golden Globes ceremony that year was canceled.
Fortunately, the Oscars were spared, salvaging at least one piece of Hollywood's dignity.
Martin no longer had to hide out in the editing room.
He began appearing frequently in the media to promote the upcoming release of Iron Man.
Robert Downey Jr. Cursed the moment he saw Martin.
"Damn kid, you really knew how to disappear. The Writers Guild couldn't get hold of you and kept calling me! Why didn't they bother Leo instead?"
"They did," Martin replied with a grin."I had Leo tell them I was dead. Told them to stop looking for me."
"Fuck off, you bastard."
"Come on, I'm a capitalist! How could I possibly speak up for the writers? Pick the wrong side and you'll get isolated. I don't want Meyers Pictures becoming the next target of the Big Six."
"Bullshit. You're the biggest individual shareholder in two of the Big Six. Who's gonna mess with you?!"
Robert flipped him the bird.
Martin raised an eyebrow. "All the more reason to stay out of it. I don't want to be used as someone's weapon."