The EconomistDecember 21st 2019 Dubbing 1092 Rome describes a particularly elaborate example. In “Sleeper”
(1973), Woody Allen’s character fantasises that he is Blanche Du-
Bois in the film of “A Streetcar Named Desire” (1951); Diane Keaton’s
character becomes Marlon Brando’s Stanley Kowalski. “Streetcar”
was not well known in Italy, though, so the dubbed version tran-
sposes the dream sequence to Bernardo Bertolucci’s “Last Tango in
Paris” (1972), which was just out in Italy. Diane Keaton is still in a
Marlon Brando role, but now his middle-aged character from “Last
Tango”. Mr Allen becomes Maria Schneider’s character, complete
with a French accent. The scene even works in a crack about cen-
sorship, not present in the original, referring to judicial bans on
“Last Tango” in Italy.
Such creative solutions have led dubbing to be treated as more
than a craft in the countries where it is common. Italy even has an
Oscar-style awards ceremony, the Gran Premio Internazionale del
Doppiaggio, for dubbing (the statuettes look like microphones).
Well done, the faceless art might yet catch on in the Anglophone
world. Indeed, to some extent, it already has.
Netflix’s in-house data show that, in America, 36% of viewers
watched its most popular non-English show, “Money Heist” from
Spain, with dubbing only, and 48% with a mixture of dubbing and
subtitles. This probably has something to do with setting. Those
who have paid to go to an art-house cinema for the latest French ar-
rival might not mind reading subtitles; indeed, it may be part of
the experience that they cherish. But it is harder to “Netflix and
chill”, in any sense of the phrase, if you have to keep your eye on the
screen to know what is going on.
If it is what more than a third of the American market wants,
dubbing makes a lot of sense. A third of the American market is
worth more than most other markets in their entirety. Netflix dubs
from many languages and into many languages—it is working
with 165 dubbing studios globally—but dubbing into English prob-
ably matters most to it.
At the Los Angeles studio where “Spectros” is being dubbed, the
actors do not have the luxury of working in pairs or groups, as they
do in Saint-Denis. Efficiency demands that they come in, do the
job and get out. Mr Lynch tries to have the
best actor record first, to coax better work
out of the others. The French rhythmoband
is replaced with Voiceq, a software Netflix
credits with making sprawling interna-
tional productions easier, faster and
cheaper. It includes a lot of “inhale” and
“exhale” and “mouth smack”; in the record-
ing booth Ren Holly Liu, playing the lead
character, deftly does what they say.
Mr Lynch and Ms Liu both describe the
job the same way: like making their own
film without the camera. Ms Liu says she
would enthusiastically recommend the
work, and not just because the pay is sur-
prisingly generous. Netflix has signed an
umbrella deal with America’s Screen Ac-
tors’ Guild (sag), the biggest actors’ union,
guaranteeing pay and other conditions for
work on its dubbing projects. (The deal re-
quired that your correspondent be paid
$200; the money was donated.) Netflix
hopes that the sagpartnership will make
dubbing jobs seem not like drudgery that
actors do to pay the bills, but a challenging
acting role in its own right.
Despite all this care, some Netflix
shows never quite manage to shed the ob-
viousness of having been re-recorded. It
may be that more technology will help:
syncing flaps and sound is an obvious application of
the nascent technology that produces “deep fakes”, in
which still pictures of a face are used to create nearly-
real-looking computer-generated video. Synthesia, a
company that specialises in just that, released a video
this year in which David Beckham, a footballer, seems
to deliver an anti-malaria message in nine languages.
Victor Riparbelli Rasmussen, the company’s ceo, con-
fidently predicts that “photo-realistic” lip-syncing is
just two years away.
Another use for aimight be heard, not seen: in mak-
ing the dubbing actors sound more like the actors in
the original language. Mr Lynch says he sometimes has
to choose between a talented dubbing actor with a
voice which does not fit the face and a lesser talent with
a better voice. “Voice-cloning” could obviate that pro-
blem, giving a German dubbing artist’s recording and
the timbre of, say, Sylvester Stallone—potentially mak-
ing it harder for an actor like Mr Danneberg to lock up a
star’s voice for decades.
For now, though, it is actors who take on the biggest
role in making dubbing seem authentic. Ms Liu, asked
what surprised her about voice-over work, describes
“vomiting”, heaving in sync with her character on the
screen, and screaming, which must be kept until the
end of her sessions, in order to preserve her voice. She
talks about the possibility of “kissing” her “Spectros”
co-star (she has never met the actor who does his Eng-
lish voice), and laughs at the possibility of making out
with her hand to get the required sounds.
Mostly, she says, it is fun. She too hopes a new wave
of artistry will remove the “cringey” reputation cling-
ing to dubbing. Watching the poor-quality products
she grew up with, Ms Liu, 24, says she would think,
“Who is doing this? I could do a better job.” “And now,”
she adds, “I am.”
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