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Celluloid egos do not deserve public pampering

By Kushal Dave

The name Cindy Nevins should not ring a bell. Yet the name of the payroll accountant from films such as Fight Club has likely passed in front of your ignorant eyes. Someone somewhere decided for some reason that she merited a few millimeters of celluloid in the movies she worked on, just so that you could ignore her.

I don't see why anybody would need to know who did payroll for the movie they just saw. That Beth Cahn was one of the "special assistants to Ms. Kennedy," a producer of Jurassic Park, is about as meaningful to me as the janitorial services Steven Spielberg employed. They both had a marginal impact on what I saw on the screen. I do not drown them with accolades. I do not anxiously await their next projects. And I barely have time to read their name.

The movies themselves make this distinction between those integral to the production—they get a bigger font at a slower speed—and those who, while contributing, were interchangeable with other similarly-skilled labor. The second group should not even be included. Right now, movie credits list too many people, and this practice is unnecessary, unfair, and unacceptable.

This isn't the point, film critic Rob Glatzer wrote in Salon in October 1998. "Let's talk about ego," he wrote. "Credits aren't really there for the audience. They're there so the industry will know who did what on the film."

Glatzer's excuse is not credible. For starters, Nevins' name in the credits says nothing about her merit as an accountant. Normal people find jobs by sending resumes and references around, not by turning items intended for public entertainment into big want ads. Surely the movie industry could find some other way of finding talent.

The other half of the equation is pride. But, quite frankly, if you get off on seeing your name scroll by faster than Britney Spears' career, you need help. Try living life like a normal person, content never to receive public recognition for countless hours of menial toil. Even worse is that movie-credit fame is illusory, visible only to the person who reads the credits out of boredom, chance, or Ms. Nevins' proud prodding.

Some people say I shouldn't care. No skin off my back, right? I tell them that this is a matter of principle. More pressing than the question of utility is that of justice. What about all of the people who don't get any credit, symbolic or otherwise, for the work they do? When passing a construction site, the name of the architects, the contractors, and the financial backers are listed, and little more. You don't know the name of the guy in the hard hat welding together that frame, but he works as hard as a key grip, and his work is of more lasting importance.

All this is the result of the pomposity unique to the movie industry. When a book includes thank-yous, despite the plethora of space, there is no mention of the mailman or the guy working at the printing press, though, in their own way, they contributed to the author's success. Rather than list every person who was able to maneuver a credit into his contract, credits should take a hint from books and list those integral to making the movie what it is, instead of those who simply made the movie. Listing the stars is necessary, but do we care who "Boy in the Crowd" is, even if he one day becomes famous? I think not.

Other professions are overshadowed by the world of film and fail to ever receive recognition for exceptional work. I once read someone's complaint that national teaching awards received an infinitesimal fraction of the publicity that the Oscars do, even though good teachers have a far greater impact on our nation's future than a good movie does. I couldn't agree more.

While my macroeconomics textbook asserts that our modern economy necessitates certain "star" roles that are limited in number and high in pay, I refuse to accept that the1y are only open to those with the right agents. In a more suitable climate, a similar cult of personality could be built around other heroes. Why not have suspense-filled contests for the best accountants or construction workers? Why can't we emphasize the individuals who really are exceptional, whatever their field, rather than those who do unexceptional work in for a favored industry?

Kushal Dave is a sophomore in Pierson.

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