ON RIPPING-OFF

So how, I'm sure you're all eager to know, do I feel about copying other people's work?
Well, this is a complicated issue. I think that what hurts is the thought of someone else taking credit for your idea - your little stroke of genius. But that assumes that the other person - the copycat - had more success or recognition for the idea than you yourself had.
I doubt that Steven Spielberg's sense of identity was much dented by an obscure Roger Corman film called Carnosaur, whipped up and released before Jurassic Park was ready to change the world.

Of course I naturally identify with the little people on this matter. And its not just about whether or not, in fact, plagiarism took place. I know how it can hurt to find that someone, somewhere, has stolen your idea before you'd even so much as voiced it - let alone realised it.

But it's also true that imitation can be taken as a compliment.

Case in point: Zombies.

Zombies are a huge part of popular culture. The Zombie movie is one of the most over-crowded sub-genera; there are well-attended annual Zombie marches in many places in the world; the Zombie Apocalypse is a deeply embedded idea - an alternative reality in popular imagination.
But the Zombie of modern popular culture is the creation of one man - George A. Romero.

Before Night of the Living Dead (1968) there were relatively few films featuring Zombies - and they were invariably the traditional Zombies of Voodoo folklore.
Is Mr Romero pissed? Does it annoy him that he's lost control of this creation in such an epic way? Well, actually, I wasn't able to find out. But I doubt it, at least by now. Everyone has heard of Night of the Living Dead, he's recognised as the father of the genera, and he's done very well out of it - the ever growing popularity of Zombies has allowed him to continue making films in the genera even to the present time. I suspect he is rather proud.

In truth, there is nothing new under the sun. I'm always creating in my mind, and of course my ideas are heavily influenced by the things I like. I notice what I find effective, and I copy.
Stephen King said that a new idea is usually just two old ideas put together for the first time.
I think that's true. Or sometimes they are simply stripped back - the basis for a popular idea can be pulled from beneath the mounting piles of self-propagating and increasingly divergent cliché. You can go back to source, and from there spring out in a different direction.
Then there's preconceived ideas that turned out to be wrong - seeds planted by misleading trailers or misinterpreted write-ups.
And finally there's dreams. Especially useful in the case of horror - your subconscious knows best how to scare you.
But of course, these dream images were themselves probably influenced by things absorbed while awake - the ideas of others. It is all but impossible to create something that cannot be likened to something else, by someone else, somewhere.

I've also thought a lot about the fine line between homage and rip-off. The definition lies, I think, in how closely you imitate, and to what effect. For example: in Paul, when we realise that the final scene will take place beneath the Devil's Tower in Arizona. This is loving homage to Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

We see the tower in a single shot, and are then left to forget about it. Its iconic image is not used to enhance the final scenes of the film. It is homage only.

Then again, I'm not saying that in never okay to steal outright. What about if an idea was wasted the first time around? Is it fair game?
And besides, even blatant rip-offs - while most are simply embarrassing - can be fun.
Personally, I enjoyed Carnosaur.