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The picture may speak a thousand words, but even a million words may not be enough for Hollywood's creative artists to change seemingly invulnerable copyright laws.

Yet, spurred by advancing technologies that can alter the film image far beyond what a film's creators originally conceived -- as well as a generation of Hollywood cineastes such as Martin Scorsese who believe in the primacy of film as art -- a cadre of directors, writers, cinematographers and other visual craftspeople are organizing as never before.

A key element in their frontal charge is the Artists Rights Foundation, a non-profit organization founded by the DGA in 1991 and quickly bolstered with an alliance including the Writers Guild, the American Society of Cinematographers, the American Cinema Editors, the Screen Actors Guild, the Society of Composers & Lyricists and the International Photographers Guild.

"The DGA," foundation president Elliot Silverstein explains, "was largely paying the freight for this effort initially, but everyone who is involved on the artistic side of filmmaking realized that this effort was in their interest. The light a cinematographer intends for a scene can be altered with colorization, or the color of costumes can be changed digitally in an instant. From the Directors Guild's side, we realized that we didn't have to be unilateral about this, and so we reached out to everyone in the creative community."

The foundation's fundamental purpose is to educate those in the industry and the viewing public about growing threats to the integrity of movies as filmmakers conceive them, with the ultimate goal of the U.S.' adhering to the internationally recognized artists rights contained in the Berne Convention, the international copyright convention to which the U.S. is one among 100 signatories.

While other Berne signatories such as and recognize not only the individual's commercial rights inherent in copyright but the moral rights of the creative author of the work, the has interpreted these provisions differently. "Berne intends to protect the rights of the individual," says Silverstein. "The tries to get around this by identifying corporations as persons."

Hollywood's moral rights advocates, led prominently by directors Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg, George Lucas and Sydney Pollack, cinematographer Allen Daviau and actor-producer Tom Cruise, argue that the following American reading of copyright protection flies in the face of Berne. They cite this clause in Berne as bolstering their claim to artistic rights: "Independently of the author's economic rights, and even after the transfer of said rights, the author shall have the right to claim authorship of the work and to object to any distortion, mutilation or other modification of, or other derogatory action in relation to, the said work, which would be prejudicial to his honor and reputation."

With rare exceptions (such as the late John Cassavetes), filmmakers do not own their films outright, and have not been able to claim artistic ownership in a court. The result, foundation members say, has been some dramatic alterations and distortions of movies as they are seen on video, laser disc or TV broadcast:

TV airings of "LAWRENCE OF ARABIA” that adopt the pan-and-scan technique to electronically pan across a widescreen image will show either Peter O'Toole's Lawrence blowing toward a candle, or the candle itself, but cannot show both.

Colorization of "IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE" changes the mood of James Stewart's nightmare into a bright, bubbly Bedford Falls, not the dark, black-and- white moodiness of Frank Capra's original.

Such meticulously crafted sequences as the climax of George Cukor's "GASLIGHT" can now be electronically "speeded" so they fit into a TV broadcast's timeframe.

And beyond the frequent trimming of a movie from its theatrical release for its life on a video shelf or a TV screen, comes now the inclusion of a scene from one work into another, such as scenes from Spielberg's "DUEL" inserted into "THE INCREDIBLE HULK." With motion picture authorship in the exclusive hands of corporations comes, Silverstein argues, "an absurdity. A corporation claiming to be a person is absurd."

But because of this linkage of commercial and moral rights held by corporate entities, what Silverstein terms the "gang rape" of movies continues.

Foundation supporters freely describe their efforts as "uphill" and "long-term," but the group's various projects appear to be gathering momentum. Robert Wise is preparing a feature film, "WHO DID THAT?", while Joe Dante is readying a short, " NOW YOU SEE IT, NOW YOU DON’T," both of which will serve as educational tools to dramatize the effects of serious alterations and distortions of the movie image.

The first issue of a newsletter for foundation supporters is set for distribution at the end of November, while the foundation’s new web site (www.artistsrights.org) is already up, with enhanced graphics and more expanded user tools being added weekly.

While the foundation's usual work -- such as the annual John Huston Award for Artists Rights (won this year by Scorsese) and symposia -- continues, its legal defense fund supports an ongoing effort to find a test case of artistic rights violations by which the Berne provisions can be tested.

"We've come close to a test case," Silverstein says, "but we want to be very careful, so our lawyers feel they can prevail in court."

It's been the law in most of Europe for more than a century. It's quite simple, really. It just says that regardless of the sale of the copyright by the creator or "author" of a work, some rights are not -- in fact, cannot -- be conveyed by the creator or author to any second party. These are called "moral" rights, but "personal" may be a better way to think of them because it avoids the definition of "moral" in English, a definition that is contextually misleading.

At its most basic level, the "law" is stated in Article 6bis of the Berne Convention, the most significant of the international copyright treaties. It states:

"Independent of the author's economic rights, and even after the transfer of the said rights, the author shall have the right to claim authorship of the work and to object to any distortion, mutilation, or other modification of, or derogatory action in relation to, the said work, which would be prejudicial to his honor or reputation."

Congress has been hostile to this idea all along. In fact, one of the primary reasons America did not become a signatory to the Berne Convention until the 1980s (the treaty opened for signatures in the 1880s) is that the copyright ownership industry had strenuously objected to America signing this treaty if it meant that Article 6bis had to be strictly adhered to (America decided to circumvent the problem by paying lip service to Article 6bis by granting such rights on a very limited basis to the narrow copyright category of visual artists). The philosophy underlying copyright law in from the beginning has been that it is economic rights -- not personal rights -- that are to be vindicated.

Some vestiges of personal rights, however, have found their way into the law; except in the case of visual artists, you just have to look for them. One place to look concerns sound recordings. Once a sound recording of a new song has been released for sale by a record company -- with the required express permission of the copyright owner of the underlying musical composition -- subsequent record companies may record and release versions of that same song without permission of the copyright owner of the underlying musical composition. In copyright law, this is called the "compulsory license" provision. There is, however, an exception to this provision. It is Section 115(a)(2) of the Copyright Act of 1976, which states:

“A compulsory license includes the privilege of making a musical arrangement of the work to the extent necessary to conform to the style or manner of interpretation of the performance involved, but the arrangement shall not change the basic melody or fundamental character of the work ... except with the express consent of the copyright owner.” It is obvious that a personal right is inherent in this provision. It is a recognition that "integrity" should play a part in what users can do with copyrighted matter. Of course, it is the copyright owner and not the creator (assuming the creator is no longer, or never was, the copyright owner) to whom this right is assigned, but the principle is evident nonetheless.

Other parts of the copyright act signal this same idea. Most specific is Section 106A, which grants rights of attribution and integrity to the authors of works of visual art. These rights include the right "to claim authorship of the work," the right "to prevent the use of his or her name as the author of any work of visual art which he or she did not create," the right "to prevent the use of his or her name as the author of the work of visual art in the event of a distortion, mutilation, or other modification of the work which would be prejudicial to his or her honor or reputation," the right "to prevent any intentional distortion, mutilation, or other modification of that work which would be prejudicial to his or her honor or reputation, and any intentional distortion, mutilation, or modification of that work is a violation of that right," and the right "to prevent any destruction of a work of recognized stature, and any intentional or grossly negligent destruction of that work is a violation of that right."

While Section 106A is limited to "visual art" (which, by definition, does not include motion picture images), Section 106 contains the "bundle of rights," which are applicable more generally to the various categories of copyrighted works, including Section 106(2), which grants copyright owners "the right to prepare derivative works based upon the copyrighted work." And while the basic underlying principle behind this right is clearly economic, it may nonetheless be said that an "integrity" right is inherent in it, as well, because a closely-related but, e.g., poorly done derivative work could be quite reputationally injurious to the creator. As with the compulsory license limitation, the right to prepare derivative works belongs, once again, to the copyright owner, but the principle is still unmistakable.

We have recognized integrity, and other personal rights, in our copyright law on a more or less "peek-a-boo" basis for quite some time. Taking the next step and explicitly recognizing personal rights for authors is clearly warranted and long overdue. To be sure, there are compromises to be discussed and there are complications based on digital technology to be dealt with, but for too long we have denied the central premise -- which is that creators should have some rights that are inalienable. Alienability, given the strength of the copyright industry and the relative lack of strength of creators, would make shadow of substance in any grant of personal rights to creators, but that is a subject for another day.

Don E. Tomlinson is a professor of journalism and mass communication at Texas A&M University and adjunct professor of law at the University of Houston Law Center. Tomlinson publishes extensively on copyright and media law topics, and he has a considerable practice as a complex litigation mediator and as a consultant on copyright and media law matters. LL.M (Intellectual Property), University of Houston Law Center, J.D., University of Arkansas at Little Rock School of Law, M.J., University of North Texas, B.S., Arkansas State University.

It was a bit of a risk four years ago when American Movie Classics decided to launch an annual movie festival to raise funds for film preservation.

AMC president Kate McEnroe recalls that the general consensus at the cable network was: “This is going to be some education process. I don’t think people are really aware of how difficult the restoration process is and how costly it is.”

During the first festival, AMC received some hate mail from viewers who were annoyed with the pleas and video spots asking for money. “People became more accessible and more concerned by the second one,” McEnroe reports. “By the third one and then last year’s, there was an outcry [of support].”

Over the last four years, AMC has raised $1.3 million. The Film Foundation, an organization of filmmakers founded by director Martin Scorsese in 1990, works with the studios and distributes the moneys raised to its six-member archives: the George Eastman House, the Museum of Modern Art Film Department, National Center for Film and Video Preservation at the American Film Institute, UCLA Film and Television Archive, the Library of Congress Motion Picture Division and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences Film Archive.

AMC hopes to raise $500,000 with its fifth annual festival, which kicks off tonight at 9 with the 1946 Burt Lancaster classic “The Killers.” The festival, which continues through Sunday, highlights the film noir genre and the works of Alfred Hitchcock. Also featured is a special taped at a film noir themed gala last week in Los Angeles, spotlighting Carly Simon singing selections from her new “Film Noir” album.

AMC plans its festivals with Scorsese, whose landmark 1976 drama, “Taxi Driver,” was recently restored. The director will introduce several of the films he chose for the event.

Scorsese says he’s noticed a change in the public’s awareness of the need of preservation since the festivals began. “There is not only a greater awareness, but there’s more of an expectation now to see restored films, whether they are restored with missing sequences placed back or cleaned up with new negatives and new sound tracks created, so you can get the best possible image.

“Sometimes, when you look at these old restored films from the early ‘30s, depending on the condition of the elements, they look as if they were shot yesterday,” Scorsese adds.

“It’s fascinating. It’s a matter of understanding that they are seeing the original film, which is very different from the copies you saw on TV.”

Scorsese recalls watching movies on TV as far back as 1948 in less than ideal conditions: “[I saw] poor copies, probably dupes, and yet somehow over the years, some of the power of those films stayed with me. Can you imagine if we reacted to such extraordinary bad presentations the impact it might be having on people who see possibly some of the better and best presentations of films over the years?”

Still, thousands and thousands of films have been lost. More than half of the 21,000 shorts and full-length features made on the highly flammable and corrosive nitrate stock before 1950 are gone. Only about 10% of the movies produced in the U.S. before 1929 still survive. Even films made between 1950 and 1975 on Eastmancolor stock are fading away.

The Library of Congress estimates that it costs between $10,000 and $50,000 to preserve and restore a black-and-white film and $30,000 to $300,000 for a color one.

This year’s AMC festival features several restored classics, including the 1947 film noir “Out of the Past” and the Hitchcock greats “Rebecca,” “Notorious,” “Suspicion,” “Spellbound,” “The Paradine Case” and “Vertigo.”

Scorsese singles out the 1947 film noir “I Walk Alone,” with Kirk Douglas and Burt Lancaster as one of the festival’s highlights.

“I think it’s underrated,” he says. “What I like about the film is that it was one of the first pictures to show the transition between the underworld, prewar to postwar, which became high profile respectable like big business. It reflects society at that time.’

Scorsese screens “Out of the Past,” which made Robert Mitchum a star, at least twice a year. “If you asked me what the plot is now, I can’t tell you,” he acknowledges. “But I watch it every four or five months and it’s like I’m watching a new film every time.”

Both “Out of the Past” and “Suspicion” were restored by the Library of Congress. Though the Library has the original negative for the 1941 “Suspicion,” 60 feet of sound was lost.

“It was a much bigger job than we thought originally,” says David Francis, chief of motion picture broadcast and sound division of the Library of Congress.

Thanks to AMC and the Film Foundation, the Library of Congress has received between $25,000 and $40,000 a year, “which doesn’t sound like a lot of money, but I’m afraid with the present resources available for film preservation, it’s really a significant sum.”

With AMC money, the Library of Congress restored the 1930 Oscar-winner “All Quiet on the Western Front,” which took three years and cost nearly $80,000.

“We had to work from four or five different copies,” Francis says. “What we try to do when we restore is not try to get back to the version the director would have liked, we’re trying to get back to the version that was first seen by the public.”

More importantly, Francis adds, “is that we’re the only archive who has their own restoration lab. We have used some of the money to pay the salary of someone to do restoration because our staff had gotten so small. We had lost so many people from downsizing. It’s grants like the one we have received from AMC which have enabled us to keep on people we would have otherwise have lost. It’s been incredibly valuable.”

Francis says he notices the shift in the public’s awareness of film preservation because “the industry itself is actually talking about restoration and using restoration [as a tool] for selling classic films like ‘Lawrence of Arabia.’ Once I feel the industry takes the work of the film archivist into the commercial arena, it shows that everyone is getting aware of the importance of film preservation.”

The majority of the studios now have preservation policies in place. Still, Scorsese acknowledges, “if we start now to try to restore everything, we won’t get it. So we will just have to continue going as much as possible title by title in the vaults with the archives and the studios to have a concentrated effort to save everything they can.”

In this past decade we have witnessed a growing awareness of film preservation. However, the deterioration and eventual disappearance of films have not come to an end. We're still racing against the clock to save what we can.

There are two areas of film preservation that each have their own unique problems. The first is the film libraries owned by the studios, which represent the majority of American films. The second area is orphaned films — meaning films in the public domain or owned by small companies that have no money for restoration; this also includes documentaries, newsreels, independent features, shorts and avantgarde films. In both areas, many of these titles have to be transferred from nitrate to safety stock — 100 million feet to be exact.

Regarding the studio libraries, there has been substantial progress — to different extent.

Regarding orphan films, the problem is overwhelming. Just the cataloguing is a daunting task. This is the area where major losses have already occurred and continue to occur every day. Whereas it was relatively simple for The Film Foundation to help build a bridge between the studios and archives, with orphan films there is nothing to build a bridge to — when work happens at all, it happens at random, by chance or by luck.

The National Film Registry has been valuable in the recognition of film as a vital part of our cultural heritage. However, the challenge in our country is so large and so costly that it requires a unique partnership bringing together resources from many different areas — the private sector as well as public and government institutions. Each area has its contribution to make, but no one can get the job done alone.

It is important to emphasize that the best case of all for preservation is made when films are seen and appreciated by audiences. Screening preserved films serves as a reminder of a precious and vital part of our culture.

During these last few decades, technology has evolved in unforeseen ways. In the 1960s, film libraries were thought to have no value whatsoever — they were just a storage expense. Just consider how the situation has changed.

We foresee a future in which technologies will bring a new cinema, born out of those technologies. Perhaps cinema as we have known it in these past one hundred years will really become a part of the past. If so, that is one more reason to save what we have and, most of all, to preserve the negatives as an irreplaceable source.

The Film Foundation will continue to work with the studios and support joint projects studio-archives.  

It will also support a proposed mechanism called The National Plan, spearheaded by the Library of Congress, which would call for a dollar-for-dollar match of contributions from the government and private sectors to preserve orphan films.

Films of the past are alive as part of our own creative work in the present. As Peter Bogdanovich said recently, "There are no old movies, but movies I have seen and movies that I haven't seen."