We attended a special screening last night of In Trial: Prosecuting Music Piracy, the first feature-length film produced by the National District Attorneys Association in collaboration with the Recording Industry Association of America. Prosecuting Music Piracy is a sordid tale of drugs, terrorism, and technology that artfully challenges society's preconceived notions about justice.

This highly entertaining film isn't destined for theaters and was actually intended for use as a training video to familiarize district attorneys with the complexities of anti-piracy enforcement. The video was leaked and made available on the Internet. When we saw it for ourselves, we just couldn't keep a straight face. Instead of reporting on the facts surrounding the leak (first noticed by p2pnet), we thought it would be more fun for all involved if we treated it like a theatrical release and reviewed it accordingly.

The movie consists of a series of dialogues interspersed with brief shots that depict alleged music counterfeiters and their wares. The novel emphasis on music piracy infuses the film with thematic originality that helps to offset the somewhat tedious format. The highly minimalistic set design and the absence of big-name actors detract from the movie's mainstream appeal, but add a pastiche of gritty realism that enriches the viewing experience and accentuates the film's underlying message.

The main characters are Jim Dedman, a tepid district attorney with a submissive attitude; Deborah Robinson, a smooth-talking lawyer from the RIAA's anti-piracy division; and Frank Walters, a former Maryland State Trooper turned RIAA investigator. The dialogue between these characters is well-crafted and filled with subtlety.

Dedman's deferential tone contrasts sharply with Robinson's authoritative confidence, a juxtaposition that is intended to convey to the audience insight into the nature of the relationship between the RIAA and the law. Although the character Robinson insists that the RIAA's function in piracy legal proceedings is to serve prosecutors rather than dictate policy, the film's portrayal of her interaction with the sycophantic Dedman makes a bold subtextual statement about the RIAA's position of dominance. Robinson's implausible denial of the RIAA's control is a hanging lampshade that mocks the RIAA's rhetorical style.

In both appearance and demeanor, the character of Frank Walters was very clearly inspired by Walter Sobchak, the high-strung Vietnam War veteran played by John Goodman in the 1998 classic The Big Lebowski.



Note the uncanny resemblance between the characters Sobchak (left) and Walters (right).

One of the most poignant moments of the film arrived when Robinson discusses asset forfeiture and the punishments imposed on music pirates. The revelation that convicted pirates can potentially receive jail time and have their homes and vehicles confiscated for nothing more than selling cheap CD knockoffs causes the film to blur the lines that separate criminal and enforcer, compelling the audience to recognize the inherent injustice of the system.

Although the movie contains some serious themes, I often found myself laughing. The actors skillfully deadpan several remarkably funny lines during a scene in which the characters attempt to draw a tenuous connection between drug dealing and music piracy—statements that add a high degree of levity to the film.

"What is it that you could bring to the DA's office that would make them appreciate what music piracy investigations can do for their regular criminal case load?" Dedman asked.

"Well, I think that, number one, it has to be stressed that this type of crime affects quality of life in the DAs' jurisdictions, the cities in which they work and live, but the other thing is that it's a link to a lot of other crimes," Robinson replied. "It also has links to some terrorist organizations, for those federal prosecutors out there, there are a number of cases right now, but what we are seeing is also a link to selling drugs with the CDs and some gun activity as well."

"There are some sayings in certain parts of the jurisdiction when you buy a CD, 'would you like it with or without'," Walters adds. "The 'with' is a CD enclosing a piece of crack or whatever the case may be. We, continually, in working with law enforcement, find that these locations have everything from handguns to large quantities of narcotics."

Another amusing highlight is the scene in which Walters demonstrates CD burning, noting that spindles of blank CD-Rs are a common indication that piracy is taking place.



Blank CDs are among the tools of piracy used by your friendly neighborhood terrorist

Although Prosecuting Music Piracy doesn't have the trappings of a box office hit, the humorous hyperbole will likely earn this low-budget production a devoted cult following in the same vein as the classic 1938 propaganda film Reefer Madness.