An arena usually graced by high-profile business and entertainment giants, recently bore witness to a notable copyright squabble. The clash was between Gervase Peterson, a past contender on ‘Survivor’, and an imposing ensemble consisting of Goldin Auctions, Ken Goldin (the auction house’s founder), Netflix, and the developers of the reality television series, “King of Collectibles”. However, the legal tussle has recently come to a resolute end, with a federal judge tipping the scales in favor of the latter group and dismissing the copyright infringement lawsuit that plagued them.
The roots of this legal joust trace back to 2019, when Peterson proposed a concept not unlike “King of Collectibles” to Ken Goldin. His brainchild, enticingly christened “The Goldin Boys,” allegedly served as the blueprint for a television show brought to life by Wheelhouse Entertainment. Netflix secured the rights for the show, all while bypassing any involvement from Peterson. Thus was conceived the central knot of the dispute, where Peterson perceived discernible parallels between his brainchild and the reality series, whose second season recently graced Netflix’s ever-expanding gallery of content.
After their initial exchanges, the lines of communication between Peterson and Goldin reportedly went silent in mid-2020. It wasn’t long after this radio silence that a concept bearing similarities to Peterson’s proposal was nurtured into fruition. Despite echoing Peterson’s accusations, the retort from the defense maintained that the reality series — a window into the machinery of Goldin Auctions intertwined with peeks into Goldin’s personal world — was grounded in generic ideas unclaimed by the Copyright Act.
Supporting the defense’s rebuttal, Judge Christine O’Hearn from the New Jersey federal district court gravitated towards the view that the concepts advocated by Peterson for protection were in fact, scènes à faire. This fancy French legal term represents scenes or themes that are characteristic to a genre, hence falling outside the realm of copyright protection. In context, O’Hearn elucidated that a sizable chunk of reality television premise, including the quotidian business operations captured in “King of Collectibles,” fall comfortably into this category.
Adding another layer to her defense, O’Hearn drew attention to the fact that real-life situations and characteristic elements that pervade reality shows are often deemed as unprotectable. To corroborate her stance, she referred to past legal landmarks where similar situations were turned upon their heads. The judgement’s solid dismissal of the lawsuit reaffirmed the labyrinthine challenge in asserting copyright over broad concepts and themes that serve as the essential scaffolding of reality television.
Facing unpromising odds in the face of a copyright suit is possibly as thrilling as a bungee jump for the accused. Yet, the reality series “King of Collectibles” survived the plunge, not just by wading through choppy legal waters but also by securing an Emmy nomination, further cementing its credentials in the realm of entertainment. The copyright suit has indeed been a rather formidable hurdle, but the outcome has set a precedent that television concepts rooted in commonplace elements might just be beyond the grasp of copyright claws.