Salman Rushdie looks at the state of the cinematic art. This year, as deadlines approach for strikes by actors and writers, LA is facing the possibility of becoming, for a time, exactly such a characterless, movie-less sprawl. Well, they're only writers, after all.
Talks keep breaking down an inch away from agreement.
There's plenty of bad feeling in the air, and a growing sense of inevitability. The lobbying season is over. Famous rock stars are no longer playing impromptu gigs in old folks' homes in the hope of garnering a few votes for best song from elderly academicians resident therein. The votes are in. The Oscars are coming.