Category Archives: movies

Guest Post: The End of The Dark Knight Rises

Today we have a guest post from Mike Lee, who wrote an analysis of an issue from the end of The Dark Knight Rises.  Just describing the issue is a pretty big spoiler, so I’ll save the description for after the jump.

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Iron Man 3: The Crimes of The Mandarin

This post was inspired by an email question from Wayne and a comment from Martin, both of whom asked what crimes The Mandarin could be charged with.  Beware: the answer requires massive spoilers.  If you haven’t seen the movie yet, go see it.

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Iron Man 3: Iron Patriot Goes to Pakistan

We’re just about done with Iron Man 3, which we still recommend seeing if you haven’t already.  Here’s an essentially spoiler-free version of the facts behind this post: at some point in the movie, Iron Patriot (the re-branded War Machine) goes to Pakistan to look for The Mandarin.  But wait a minute.  Iron Patriot is very much an official, publicly acknowledged part of the US military.  So how can he—armed to the teeth, mind you—conduct a potentially violent manhunt in a foreign country?

Obviously this is strongly reminiscent of the killing of Osama bin Laden in Abbottabad, Pakistan in May of 2011, and this post is based on some expert analysis of the law surrounding his killing.  A few more spoilery details inside (about the movie, not bin Laden; don’t get excited).

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Iron Man 3: Surgery and Homicide

In this, our third post on Iron Man 3, we consider the question of whether Dr. Aldrich Killian could theoretically be criminally liable for the deaths of people injected with Extremis, or certain deaths caused by Extremis patients. The idea here is fairly straightforward. Deliberately doing something that one knows has a reasonable likelihood of killing someone else which actually does result in their deaths definitely constitutes some species of homicide offense in most jurisdictions. But surgeons do precisely that all the time, engaging in acts which, given only minute alterations, can be either life-saving or horrific. Every time someone goes under the knife, there is an at least minor chance that they will die on the operating table, and more serious conditions justify undergoing riskier procedures. Extremis has been shown to possess incredible restorative properties, including the regeneration of lost limbs, but it does carry with it certain risks. As such, which homicide offense, if any, would be the most appropriate to charge Killian with, and would he have any defenses?

Spoilers within, so be forewarned. Continue reading

Iron Man 3: Property Law and Medical Experimentation

We started talking about Iron Man 3 on Monday with some questions sent to us by a lucky reader who caught a sneak preview. Now we’ll take a look at two more issues: property law and medical experimentation.

Without giving too much away, we can say that at one point in the movie, Stark gives out his home address on live TV. Shortly thereafter, the press and bad guys show up and things start to get a bit hairy. The movie seems to assume that this would not have happened if Stark hadn’t given out his address. That strikes us as. . . dodgy. Further, the movie takes some inspiration from the Iron Man: Extremis storyline, and though the details of Extremis seem to vary quite a bit from the source material, both involve experimental medical injections. So we’ll talk about those issues as well. Continue reading

Iron Man 3 Questions

We’re going to start our coverage of Iron Man 3 with some questions we received almost two weeks ago from Heiki, who saw the movie at a local premiere in Europe.  We had to wait to see it this weekend, but it was well worth it.  If you haven’t seen it yet, you should.  It’s a great movie.  There are some fairly serious spoilers below, though.

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R.I.P.D.

R.I.P.D. is the Dark Horse comic about divine law enforcement officers which is being made into a movie starring Jeff Bridges and Ryan Reynolds and scheduled for release on June 19.  The trailer was just released today, in fact.  The basic premise is that Nick Cruz (Reynolds’ character) is a cop who is killed at the beginning of the story. But upon awaking in the afterlife, he finds himself confronted by a figure claiming to be. . . well God’s lawyer, basically. Turns out the Almighty has a bit of a special program for law enforcement officers killed in the line of duty: in exchange for the opportunity to bring their killers to justice, and a shot at heaven, deceased cops spend a century of service working for the R.I.P.D., the Rest In Peace Department, which has the divine mandate to seek out and deal with ne’er-do-wells from the netherworld who don’t stay where they’re supposed to.

So what can we say about this? If we’re to take the story at face value, not questioning its theological assumptions (which are basically a version of Christianity with your standard artistic license), it’s not as if the US legal system–or any mortal legal system–has anything to say to God. Or Satan for that matter. Indeed, the Western District of Pennsylvania basically dismissed a suit against Satan because he could not be served with process. U.S. ex rel Gerald Mayo v. Satan and His Staff, 54 F.R.D. 282 (W.D. Pa. 1971).

But we can talk about the general issues of the contract. We’ve already discussed deals with the devil in two posts (Reaper and Ghost Rider respectively), but what about deals with God? Continue reading

Our Interview with Daniel Reeve

Daniel Reeve is an artist and calligrapher who created the maps and calligraphy for the Lord of the Rings and Hobbit films, including the contract from The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.  You can read our analysis of the contract in this series of posts.  After a commenter pointed us in his direction we contacted Mr. Reeve, and he agreed to an interview.

Copies of the contract from The Hobbit

Law and the Multiverse: You created much of the calligraphy and maps for The Lord of the Rings films and now The Hobbit films. How did that working relationship come about?

Daniel Reeve: I had read Tolkien’s books as a teenager, and had tinkered with calligraphy – including elvish calligraphy and runes – ever since then, so when I heard that The Lord of the Rings was being made into a film, practically on my doorstep, the opportunity was too good to miss. I submitted some samples of elvish calligraphy to the film company; they phoned me immediately, and the next thing I knew, I had the job of doing all the calligraphy for the films. This immediately expanded to include maps and other graphics; and expanded even more in The Hobbit, where I create much of the artwork seen in the films, as well as the usual calligraphy, books, scrolls, parchment, inscriptions, maps, etc.

LatM: The contract in the book is quite short, just 44 words for the essential terms. How did that become the multi-page contract in the movie?

DR: I set about creating a simple document using text taken directly from Tolkien’s book, and using a dwarvish-looking calligraphic style that vaguely resembled the runes which they use for most purposes. This first version was about A4 size (though not the shape of A4 – we avoided that distinctive width/height ratio in all documents, so that Middle-earth wouldn’t look like something from our own era.)

The feedback from PJ & co. was that they wanted more text. Add a clause or two. Make it longer.

So I prepared version 2, and I also started playing with possible signatures to be added at the bottom.

The feedback: “More text, please; let’s try two pages. And could we have the signatures more ‘Elizabethan’-looking.” I duly created version 3, as well as a raft of possible signatures for Balin, Glóin, Thorin Oakenshield, and of course Bilbo Baggins.

They selected a signature for each character, but the main message coming back continued to be “More text!”

I drew up version 4….

“More text! Complicated, long-winded clauses! Fine print!”

I added finer print to all the available gaps in version 4, but I could see where this was heading….

“More text! Finer print!”

Right. Okay. You want lots of text, I’ll give you lots of text! We decided it should be a long scroll – so long that several pieces of parchment would have to be stitched together, in order to be able to fit all the clauses in. And then numerous addenda, riders, extra clauses could be added as extensions to the sides, folding out to be read. And the Contract would be written in a different style, quite a dense calligraphy, but not as hard to read as blackletter. I devised a writing style, and experimented with widths and lengths of parchment, and arrangements for the side additions.

I invented all kinds of original weird and wonderful clauses and conditions; then scoured every contract and agreement I could lay my hands on (including my own contract with the film-makers) and borrowed and re-worded and invented some more, until eventually I had filled the parchments. In fact there were two more side bits that were eventually discarded – but certainly the final document was wordy enough to bamboozle, flummox and overwhelm any poor hobbit or other potential burglar.

The Hobbit Contract

The contract from The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

LatM: While some parts of the contract appear to be drawn from a modern contract, other parts are clearly original. Did you consult with an attorney in writing the contract or go it alone? Did you look at any old contracts for inspiration or wording? Was the lengthy and lop-sided nature of the contract a little inside joke about the equally lengthy and lop-sided nature of film contracts?

DR: The Contract had to include the lines from the film script about “lacerations, evisceration, incineration”; but apart from that, I created the entire contract without consultation. From a film-making point of view, the actual wording was unimportant, the whole thing being basically a visual gag about the ridiculous length and complexity of the contract, and the fact that a contract was needed at all! Knowing how it was likely to be shot, you might think that I could just as easily have written greeking text; lorem ipsum, etc – there was certainly no need to resort to (or pay for!) consulting an attorney, let alone the time factor. But as with all things in these films, authenticity and attention to detail are called for, and pay off in the end. Besides, you never know whether the director will decide to shoot a close-up of this or that on the day. And it’s easier – and more satisfying by far – to write stuff that actually makes sense.

I naturally started with the essence of Tolkien’s original – where Bilbo’s entitlement to one fourteenth of the profits are promised, funeral arrangements and travelling expenses are provided – and expanded it in the same vein. Both the book and the film script called for the comical aspect, so I invented all sorts of absurd clauses, being as original as possible, and wrapping them in as much legalese as I could think of. Why say in one word what you can expand to three or four?! So the in-jokes came thick and fast, including reference to my own contract with the film company, and re-wording the typical standard clauses and boilerplate from real contracts, both modern and old.

It’s lengthy, lop-sided, repetitive; and – as in real contracts, it seems to me – the devil is in the detail. Always read the fine print!

LatM: How many original props did you have to create for the movie? Did you get to keep any?

DR: I have created many, many original movie props and set dressings for these films; but you never get to keep anything, of course. Everything belongs to the film companies, and often has a future in exhibitions of film paraphernalia. And in the case of the Contract, as merchandise for fans.

LatM: To me, the long contract spilling out page after page with its multiple fold-outs is a comic scene, but it also says something about dwarven culture, or at least about the Company, namely that they want everything properly specified and well ordered. How else did you try to capture the dwarves’ personality in the contract?

DR: The lettering style has a few rune-inspired features. And there’s a kind of grasping, greedy aspect not only in the content of the Contract, but also in the way that every available space is used, filled with smaller and smaller writing, rather than using more of that expensive parchment.

LatM: In your mind, which member of the Company actually wrote the contract (i.e. who put pen to paper)?

DR: Balin is the scribe of the group, and the one familiar with legal matters. The film script writers assigned different characteristics to each of the dwarves, to help make them easier to identify; so the Contract is definitely written by Balin.

LatM: The contract has a unique style. It’s very comprehensive, but it’s also sort of scattered, with a lot of afterthoughts and marginalia. How did you develop it? At least one commenter has suggested that the marginal notes and addenda may reflect that the contract was written by a committee of 13. Do you see some parts as coming from different members of the Company (e.g. the part about fire safety officers coming from Glóin and Óin, the best fire makers in the Company)?

DR: I certainly thought of this as being a collaborative effort, from the various members of the Company. Balin – partly in consultation with Thorin – would have first set down all the main clauses of the Contract. But they and the others would realise they’d left out this or that, and add it later. And as it became more complex, they would forget that some things were already set forth, and would add them again – this explains some of the repetitions.

This haphazard, scattered construction, with the afterthoughts and marginalia, also reflects how it was really written! Because I would realise that I still needed more text to fill the thing up, so I would put my thinking cap on and come up with additional clauses.

***

Thanks again to Daniel for a great interview!  For the collectors among us, two versions of the contract are available for purchase: a hand-made replica from Weta and a less detailed version from the Noble Collection.

The Money Pit

The Money Pit is a 1986 film directed by Richard Benjamin and starring Tom Hanks and Shelley Long. Hanks plays Walter Fielding, a young New York entertainment lawyer, who with his girlfriend Anna (Long) are forced to find a new place to live on short notice when Anna’s ex-husband returns from Europe, tossing them out of his apartment, where they had been living. They discover what appears to be a lucky break in the form of a stately old mansion which is being forcibly sold to pay for legal fees.

Walter is himself in fairly hot water when the movie begins. Sometime prior to the events of the film, his father, a former partner in what seems to have been a father-and-son law practice, absconded with $2.9 million in client funds. It’s not clear precisely how this was done, but the substance of it seems to be that he made off with the firm’s trust account. Walter is left paying the bill.

To secure the sale of the house, Walter borrows $200,000 from a client. The client happens to be a minor and a stupidly successful pop star, so he can afford it.

So the questions here are (1) whether Walter really would be left to pay his father’s debts, and (2) whether it’s legal and ethical to borrow money from a client under those circumstances. Continue reading

The Hobbit Contract, Part 6

It’s been a long series, but we’re finally at the end of the contract, or at least of interesting parts to write about.  If you’re just joining us, here are links to parts one, two, three, four, and five.  In today’s concluding installment we’ll be talking about a few miscellaneous provisions and giving some thoughts on the contract as a whole.

I. A Security Interest

In an unusual change of tone, the contract contains a clause that is not in the Dwarves’ favor but rather in Bilbo’s:

If, however, Company does not make good on payment herein set forth, Company becomes liable for the whole amount, to give to Burglar, making the stipulation, the penalty of the double of the said amount, the aforesaid conditions remaining as settled.  Furthermore, Company pledges to Burglar as security for the aforesaid promises all its goods existing and future.

This is a remarkable clause for two reasons (and not counting the semi-incomprehensible middle section).  First, apparently the Dwarves have volunteered to be liable for a total of a 3/14ths share if they fail to pay Bilbo a 1/14th share in the proper way (in gold of correct weight or in other payment of good quality and correct and proper measure) and in the proper time (within one year of the completion of the Adventure).  Second, the Dwarves pledge the entirety of their assets (or at least their tangible goods) as a security interest not just for the payment but for all of the promises made in the contract (e.g. provision of a pony, meals, etc).  Given how lop-sided the rest of the contract is, this is a most generous set of terms.

Or is it?  It could be that the Dwarves realize that if they fail to pay Bilbo it’s probably because they didn’t realize any significant profits.  And it’s not clear that the Company (as opposed to the Dwarves individually) has any substantial assets at the outset of the venture.  Each member of the Company seems to have brought their own tools, weapons, etc.  It’s also possible that the Company already pledged its assets as security in an earlier transaction, giving another party priority over Bilbo.  So this could be a hollow promise in more ways than one.

II. A Survival Clause

There is a curious clause that is repeated throughout the document, both in the main text and in the addenda and margins:

All conditions imposed herein are deemed to survive loss or destruction of this document, whether by accidental of wilful mishap, fair means or foul, and any reconstruction, re-wording, updating or improvements or additions made shall include a condition similar to this condition, notwithstanding any repetition  redundancy, overstatement or implication hereby recognized or disclosed.

This is an odd clause because the loss or destruction of a writing does not void the contract.  In fact, not only is the contract still valid, but “The loss or destruction of a memorandum does not deprive it of effect under the Statute [of Frauds].”  Restatement (Second) of Contracts § 137.  If the original is lost then the contents of the contract can be proven via an unsigned copy or by oral evidence.  I suspect, then, that this clause is really included for humor rather than for (fictional) legal effect.

III. Ownership of the Ring

Given the clauses describing ownership of the recovered goods, one might wonder whether the Company has a claim to the One Ring.  After all, Bilbo has expressly agreed that he has only a right to 1/14th of the profits, to be paid in a form determined by the Company, and no right to the treasure itself.  So could it be that the One Ring merely forms part of the treasure?  The contract seems to indicate otherwise.

First, the contract describes the extraction of goods from the Lonely Mountain as being the subject of the Adventure, whereas the One Ring was found underneath the Misty Mountains.  Second, the contract includes this clause:

Specialist equipment required in the execution of duties in his professional role as Burglar shall be purchased, procured, purlioned [sic] or obtained by Burglar, by whatsoever method Burglar sees fit.

The One Ring is definitely “specialist equipment” and it turns out to be required in the execution of Bilbo’s duties in his professional role as Burglar.  Certainly he could not have defeated the spiders, evaded the Wood Elves, or snuck past Smaug without it (possibly only the last counts as proper burgling, but the point stands).  So the Dwarves would not appear to have any claim to the One Ring.

I probably would have left out the “purloined” part, though.  That comes dangerously close to making the contract unenforceable on the grounds that the subject matter of the contract is illegal.

IV. Closing Thoughts

On the whole the contract is pretty well written.  There are some anachronisms, unnecessary clauses, typos, and a small number of clear drafting errors, but given the contract’s length and its role in the film (which is to say not a huge one, especially in the particulars) it’s an impressive piece of work.  I do wish there had been less material obviously taken from a modern film contract*, but I can understand cutting a few corners here and there, and at least the filler is more-or-less apropos.  I congratulate prop-maker and artist Daniel Reeve on a strong piece of work.  A lesser studio or artist might have been tempted to go with several pages of lorum ipsum written in Cirth.  If you’d like an even more accurate replica of the contract, Weta’s online store has a version with hand-made touches by Mr. Reeve.

* If you have a copy, check out the larger of the two fold-outs.  Almost all of it could have come straight out of a film contract.