
You’ve probably already heard the story, but if not, here’s a brief retelling of the story that, needlessly, seems to have all of Hollywood in an uproar. Sony Pictures allowed criticis a sneak preview of “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo,” but imposed an embargo. David Denby, film critic for the New Yorker, broke the embargo, publishing an enthusiastic review a week before Sony would have liked him to. Studios prefer that everybody publish their reviews at the same time, because it is better for their business to get a rush of reviews simultaneously. Critics generally honor these requests, and, as a result, the studios seem to believe that an embargo is a contract: That by seeing the screening, the critic has implicit agreed to the terms of the embargo. As a result, “Dragon Tattoo” producer Scott Rudin contacted Denby is a snit to inform him that he will never again be invited to a preview. And he has that right — studios can invite whoever they like to previews. But Rudin also wrote Denby an aggravated email claiming that Denby broke his word, and here’s where things get silly.
An embargo is a request. You cannot give a journalist, even an arts journalist, information and then demand that they publish it at a time that is convenient to you; they are not part of your publicity department. And I know studios believe they have made some sort of compact with critics when they set up a screening with an embargo, but, if they are really interested in such a contract, they should have their lawyers draw up papers and have the critics sign them. What they are doing, instead, is exerting social pressure. They’re saying “Hey, you sort of passively agreed to the terms we set out, and therefore you’re breaking your word.”
Denby never actively gave his word, as far as I can tell. If I walk into a museum exhibit and there is a sign on the wall that says “By attending this exhibit, you agree to write a positive review of it,” I am not going to feel like my responsibility is to either write a good review or leave the exhibit. I never made the agreement the sign claims I made, and I am not bound by it. I will see the show, write an honest appraisal, and do it on my timeline.
Was Denby’s breaking the embargo a little unfriendly? Maybe. It definitely messed up Sony’s promotional push for the movie, although not in a significant way anybody can articulate. But, then, Denby is not Sony’s friend. He is a critic and a journalist. Once he saw the film, the promotional desires of Sony were not his concern. He typically honors embargo requests, but, in this instance, felt he couldn’t. Once in a while, somebody will ask you a favor, and you may find you cannot do it. That is what has happened here, and for Sony to behave as though Denby acted unethically is preposterous.
We’re in an odd era now, one in which publicity departments feel they have more and more of an obligation to shape an eventual story. When they set up interviews, they map out a list of questions journalists can’t ask. They step in and answer questions on behalf of their clients. They demand that press photographers turn over their pictures, and they demand the right to select which pictures get published, and demand ownership of the photos. They insist on the right to read stories before they are published, and make editorial changes.
And they also think that, via embargo, they can set the date at which a story will be published. They don’t actually have any of these rights, and all of them overstep what you can fairly demand from a journalist. The American press does not work for their client, and is not required to share a press agent’s concerns about what may be best for their client. Now, there is a certain schmoozy quid pro quo in journalism, and especially entertainment journalism, where journalists are more likely to honor requests from publicists, because it makes access to a story easier. I have always felt that there were problems with this, but, then, entertainment writers need not always be adversarial with the subjects they write about — it’s a pretty rare pop star that bombs civilians in Mogadishu, and so we need not treat them like war criminals.
Still, the unintended consequence of this sort of coziness is that, every so often, PR people get the idea that their requests have the force of law. And every so often it is useful to remind them that journalists may stand by the bed, taking notes, but are not in bed with their subjects. Entertainment journalists pursue their own stories, on their own timelines, and sometimes that isn’t 100 percent convenient to the subjects they write about. If there is a quid pro quo going on, in which writers occasionally make concessions to publicists, there needs to be reciprocity — that the publicists make concessions to journalists, knowing that sometimes they will write the story they want to write at the time they want to write it. Journalism is not the freelance wing of American PR, and should not be treated as such.