Intellectual property damage: 7 franchise outliers that gave Hollywood a copyright and a left

Perhaps better in theory than execution, Randy Moore’s felt positively dangerous upon release, mainly because no one was sure if they’d be able to see it. This exercise in guerilla filmmaking sees a recently laid-off father of two having a psychological breakdown at the “Happiest Place On Earth.” Epcot’s geodesic sphere will do that to you. But the plot of the film was always less interesting than its production. Inspired by Banksy’s and the fellow Disney trespassing evidence , Moore shot at both Walt Disney World and Disneyland without permission from their legal department, documenting his character’s Lynchian descent into madness right under Dumbo’s nose. Disney opted not to Streisand Effect this blatant disregard for Mouse House rules. Still, Moore’s strident and fearless disregard for copyright remains an inspiration for future guerilla filmmakers and habitual copyright line steppers.

An ongoing film franchise since the early 60s, the James Bond series has faced two copyright crises over the last half-century. First, 1967’s star-studded James Bond spoof, , spent many years as the black sheep of the Bond canon. But it’s really a story as old as time; a producer had the rights to one of the James Bond books but couldn’t come to terms with Albert R. Broccoli and Harry Saltzman, who produced the five previous Bond movies and continued producing them for rest of their lives (Broccoli’s daughter, Barbara, currently shepherds the series). Though this may have been viewed as a lesser violation at the time, it seriously confused people the next time this happened. In 1983’s , Sean Connery returned to the tuxedo in a remake of because that film’s copyright was in dispute. Bond creator Ian Fleming based the book Thunderball on a screenplay he wrote with Jack Whittingham and Kevin McLory, who produced the original Thunderball and retained the rights for Never Say Never Again. The film was the second time a previous Bond actor returned to the role. The last Bond to return? Connery. Sean Connery for Diamond Are Forever.

is the stuff of legend for a reason. Cobbled together solely to maintain a grip on the rights to the characters (something that would be a common theme with regards to Marvel’s first family), which German producer Bernd Eichinger acquired in the early ’80s, this low-rent version still holds some power that future versions don’t, namely for its low-budget charms and mythic stature within the Marvel movie pantheon. Though bootlegs exist, the movie is still under lock and key for the most part. Marvel Studios founder Avi Arad purchased the rights to the film on the eve of release, and basically E.T. for Atari’d it. . We expect the characters at some point to appear in the MCU as the multiverse becomes increasingly hungry for Easter eggs. It’s just wild that .

The call is coming from inside the house on this one. For more than a decade, Sony Pictures has been diluting their stable of Spider-Man characters via a series of movies that continues to confuse. From through , the studio’s releases have bordered on mockbusters, hoping to fool audiences into thinking they’re seeing capital “M” Marvel movies and giving them approximations of leftovers from the early ’00s. Though Sony has moved the web-head of the family to its animated arm and Marvel proper, the studio continues to release half-produced versions of some of Spider-Man’s most C-level characters. Why are there , Madame Web, and Kraven movies without a Peter Parker to center them? Because Sony can. That’s why.

Sent into production mere months after A.A. Milne’s original 1926 Winnie-The-Pooh book entered the public domain, Rhys Frake-Waterfield’s has started a quiet revolution. The first of two Blood And Honey movies, with a that includes , Frake-Waterfield may feel like the Edgelord incarnate, but there’s also value in reminding audiences, via a murderous Pooh bear, that Disney doesn’t own everything. Some might roll their eyes at such obvious subversion. After all, “What if Winnie the Pooh was Jason Voorhees?” sounds like it’s the result of a dorm room nightmare blunt rotation. Nevertheless, it’s the type of cinematic terrorism that exploits copyright laws to the tune of $5 million on a $50,000 budget and fools . Mission: accomplished.

Vera Drew’s is unprecedented in many ways. It is an outright attack on the idea of copyright and ownership of characters that have existed within the public consciousness for over 80 years. But also, it isn’t. . What Drew discovered when a major media conglomerate urged her to cancel the premiere of her parody about a transgender Joker and a Gotham run by Lorne Michaels is that parody laws are pretty strong in the United States. And while most major studios will hesitate to parody the I.P. owned by another (though, as we’ve seen, they’re also willing to do it), independent artists are eager to take risks and turn these characters into something greater. By challenging the right to use these characters, she turned what should be public domain into her domain. There’s nothing quite like The People’s Joker.