Paramount files new legal statement saying states' antitrust suit misses the whole point of the merger

The gist of the argument, which was filed as a response to the AGs’ initial complaint, is one we’ve seen from Paramount before, back when it was getting bogged down in arguments about whether Curry Barker’s indie horror hit Obsession counts as a “blockbuster”: That the states’ case against the merger is built off of an older understanding of Hollywood that sees major studios like Paramount and Warner Bros. as main, direct rivals for each other—which ignores, they argue, the reality of tech-derived companies like Netflix, Apple, and Amazon breaking into the market over the course of the 21st century. In what, to the best of our knowledge, is the only legal filing between a large Hollywood studios and 12 American states to acknowledge the existence of that upcoming Netflix theatrical movie where Taika Waititi plays an ex-con Willy Wonka, the response argues that the streamers are already stomping all over the theatrical market, and that the only way for old Hollywood (as represented by David Ellison, a guy who’s owned a major studio for all of two years because his tech billionaire dad gave him some pocket change) to fight back is to merge into a cinematic kaiju of its own. (The Godzilla metaphor is our own, sadly, and not part of the legal filing.)

There are other aspects to the response, with Paramount making the requisite attacks on the states’ ability to litigate an antitrust issue that’s already been cheerfully cleared by Ellison’s buddies in the Department Of Justice. (With the paragraph-by-paragraph addressing of each of the original complaint’s points including such lawyers-are-certainly-human-beings-type language as “Defendants admit that the State of Oregon is a state of the United States.”) Among other things, the filing points to the fact that all three of America’s major theater chains have stated that they want the merger, apparently convinced of Ellison’s claims that ParaBros. (or whatever they end up calling this new city-stomping behemoth) will keep big movies rolling out at a steady pace. (The assertion that Cinema United, the trade organization representing the chains, is calling for a settlement in the case does blithely paper over the fact that the group has not actually gone so far as to endorse the plan, though.) 

There will, of course, be more of these backs-and-forths as the negotiations approach and then, it seems very probable, recede. (Both sides are reportedly pretty intransigent in their belief in the merits of their arguments; also, given the politicized overtones of all this, we’d be shocked if any of these AGs blinked before the elections in November.) The most interesting aspect of the whole thing, meanwhile, might come down to a point not articulated in Paramount’s new filing at all: Whether (per Variety) Paramount will get its demand that the states pony up a bond covering the costs of delaying the merger, estimated at nearly $2 billion thanks to the “ticking fee” Paramount agreed to give Warner Bros. if the sale got delayed. Even split across 12 states, that’s a lot of cash, with Paramount clearly attempting to extract some real blood in exchange for the AGs attempts to get in the way of its big kaiju dreams.