Pirated No More

My best friend’s brother works as a director in one of the top television networks. Before he entered film school six years ago, he had a vast collection of movies, whether local or foreign, ranging from mainstream to indie to classic. Yes, they were pirated copies, which he had amassed by scouring stalls in Greenhills, Quiapo and Divisoria, as well as shopping areas in China and Hong Kong, but they were good, clear copies, he justified.

About a month after her brother entered film school, my best friend summoned me to their house to witness what she termed annihilation. We watched dolefully as her brother quietly threw CDs one at a time into the fire in a drum. We tried teasing our way into keeping some of them, flipping through the boxes, but all we got was a slap at the wrist.

He later explained that it was something he had to do if he was to be in the film industry, which required of him ideas that were original and different. He realized this was not something many people could come up with easily. Stories that make up movies are owned by the minds that conceptualize them, and these owners wouldn’t be happy if copies of their craft are being distributed without their permission. More important than losing their money’s worth, they were losing something intangible but more valuable. He will become an owner in a few years, and he certainly wouldn’t like his ideas he’d painstakingly come up with to be peddled at no effort and for less than a budget meal’s value.

He’s slowly rebuilding his movie collection, but this time with all original copies. He buys at least one a week, and now scours video stores in malls, Amazon and E-bay, and even vintage shops for rare titles. It costs him more, in money and sometimes inconvenience, but he’s glad he’s not doing damage to his colleagues and to himself.