Ellen Stutzman, a senior Writers Guild of America official, stood on a battered patch of grass outside Netflix headquarters in Los Angeles. She was calm \u2014 remarkably so, given the wild scene unfolding around her, and the role she had played in its creation. <\/p>\n
\u201cHey, Netflix! You\u2019re no good! Pay your writers like you should!\u201d hundreds of striking movie and television writers shouted in unison as they marched outside the Netflix complex. The spectacle had snarled traffic on Sunset Boulevard on Tuesday afternoon, and numerous drivers blared horns in support of a strike. Undulating picket signs, a few of which were covered with expletives, added to the sense of chaos, as did a hovering news helicopter and a barking dog. \u201cWow,\u201d a Netflix employee said as he inched his car out of the company\u2019s driveway, which was blocked by writers.<\/p>\n
In February, unions representing 11,500 screenwriters selected Ms. Stutzman, 40, to be their chief negotiator in talks with studios and streaming services for a new contract. Negotiations broke off on Monday night, shortly before the contract expired. Ms. Stutzman and other union officials voted unanimously to call a strike, shattering 15 years of labor peace in Hollywood, and bringing the entertainment industry\u2019s creative assembly lines to a grinding halt.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe told them there was a ton of pent-up anger,\u201d Ms. Stutzman said, referring to the companies at the bargaining table, which included Amazon and Apple. \u201cThey didn\u2019t seem to believe us.\u201d<\/p>\n
The throng started a new chant, as if on cue. \u201cHey, hey! Ho, ho! This corporate greed has got to go!\u201d<\/p>\n
Similar scenes of solidarity unfolded across the entertainment capital. At Paramount Pictures, more than 400 writers \u2014 and a few supportive actors, including Rob Lowe \u2014 assembled to wave pickets with slogans like \u201cDespicable You\u201d and \u201cHonk if you like words.\u201d Screenwriting titans like Damon Lindelof (\u201cWatchmen,\u201d \u201cLost\u201d) and Jenny Lumet (\u201cRachel Getting Married,\u201d \u201cStar Trek: Strange New Worlds\u201d) marched outside Amazon Studios. Acrimony hung in the air outside Walt Disney Studios, where one writer played drums on empty buckets next to a sign that read, \u201cWhat we are asking for is a drop in the bucket.\u201d<\/p>\n
Another sign goaded Mickey Mouse directly: \u201cI smell a rat.\u201d<\/p>\n
But the strike, at least in its opening hours, seemed to burn hottest at Netflix, with some writers describing the company as \u201cthe scene of the crime.\u201d That is because Netflix popularized and, in some cases, pioneered streaming-era practices that writers say have made their profession an unsustainable one \u2014 a job that had always been unstable, dependent on audience tastes and the whims of revolving sets of network executives, has become much more so.<\/p>\n
The streaming giant, for instance, has become known for \u201cmini-rooms,\u201d which is slang for hiring small groups of writers to map out a season before any official greenlight has been given. Because it isn\u2019t a formal writers room, the pay is less. Writers in mini-rooms will sometimes work for as little as 10 weeks, and then have to scramble to find another job. (If the show is greenlit and goes into production, fewer writers are kept on board.)<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you only get a 10-week job, which a lot of people now do, you really have to start looking for a new job on day one\u201d said Alex Levy, who has written for Netflix shows like \u201cGrace and Frankie.\u201d \u201cIn my case, I haven\u2019t been able to get a writing job for months. I\u2019ve had to borrow money from my family to pay my rent.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lawrence Dai, whose credits include \u201cThe Late Late Show with James Corden\u201d and \u201cAmerican Born Chinese,\u201d a Disney+ series, echoed Ms. Levy\u2019s frustration. \u201cIt feels like an existential moment because it\u2019s becoming impossible to build a career,\u201d he said. \u201cThe dream is dead.\u201d<\/p>\n
Studio executives have largely maintained public silence, instead leaving communication to the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers, which bargains on their behalf. In statements, the organization has said its goal was a \u201cmutually beneficial deal,\u201d which was \u201conly possible if the guild is committed to turning its focus to serious bargaining\u201d and \u201csearching for reasonable compromises.\u201d<\/p>\n
On Monday, when talks broke down, the organization said the companies had made an offer that included \u201cgenerous increases in compensation for writers.\u201d The primary sticking points, it added, were union proposals that would require companies to staff television shows with a certain number of writers for a specified period of time, \u201cwhether needed or not.\u201d<\/p>\n
Samantha Riley, whose credits include \u201cHacks\u201d and \u201cFresh Off the Boat,\u201d started to breathe fire on the Netflix picket line when the conversation turned to the offer made by the companies. (The union made the proposals public.) \u201cI\u2019m offended by the offer,\u201d Ms. Riley said. \u201cIt\u2019s horrendous.\u201d<\/p>\n
In particular, writers were irate about the manner in which studios responded to their concerns about the impact of artificial intelligence on the future of screenwriting. The W.G.A. wants studios to agree to protections that guarantee A.I. will not encroach on writers\u2019 credits and compensation. The studios rejected the proposal, instead suggesting an annual meeting on advances in technology.<\/p>\n
\u201cRadicalized might be too strong of a word, but the studios, by doing that, made people even more unified,\u201d said Tom Szentgyorgi, whose credits range from \u201cThe Mentalist\u201d to \u201cNYPD Blue.\u201d<\/p>\n
First-day enthusiasm notwithstanding, writers will find it no small task in coming weeks to block a production apparatus that, in the Los Angeles area alone, is spread across more than 100 studio facilities, several hundred postproduction houses and numerous location shoots that move from day to day. Hollywood\u2019s most recent strike, in 2007, stretched for more than three months. The 2007 strike was in winter, when daytime temperatures in Los Angeles are in the 60s. The upcoming summer in Burbank, however, means 100 degree days, day after day.<\/p>\n
Irene Turner, a veteran of the 2007 strike, was a bit weary after three hours of trudging in the sun outside Disney on Tuesday. But she was nowhere close to calling it quits. \u201cThis is super good for me because I sit on my butt on a laptop,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
Ms. Turner, whose credits include the 2017 Netflix film \u201cThe Most Hated Woman in America,\u201d called the strike \u201cnecessary and miserable,\u201d adding that \u201ca lot of people will get hurt.\u201d The 2007 strike cost the Los Angeles economy an estimated $2.1 billion, with small businesses supporting television and film production also crunched.<\/p>\n
Kevin Yee, an actor (\u201cDickinson\u201d) turned screenwriter who was pumping his sign up and down furiously outside Warner Bros., said he was nervous about how long a strike could last.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt felt like the producers wanted us to strike,\u201d Mr. Yee said. \u201cThey\u2019ve stopped greenlighting a lot of things in anticipation of this. So there wasn\u2019t a lot for me to do anyways. With the current state of things, there is no hope for this industry unless they step up and they make this a sustainable career. So to me, I have nothing to lose.\u201d<\/p>\n