I’m never going to credit Covid for anything positive. I did, however, learn a bunch of things during the time the pandemic had the world in its grip. It’s possible to work in pajamas. It’s not possible to teach my parents how to make a videocall. And it’s impossible to live without friends.

During lockdown, the Synchronverband initiated an “Open Writers Room”, a regular zoom meeting to which we could bring any problem that we had on our desks, whether it was a tricky lipsync issue or a translation conundrum, or simply a need to talk about issues only dubbing scriptwriters can understand. When we were all zoomed out, the Open Writers Room continued as a Signal group. Don’t ask how its name morphed from “OWR” to “Frauen mit helmtragenden Kerlen”. If you know, you know.

ChatGPT is very capable to come up with usable answers to a question like “what do you say for this [picture of a red motor scooter] in German?” I would have called it a Vespa, but when I asked the group, I was quickly told that “a Vespa looks different.” What do I know really – the maximum number of wheels I’ve ever owned is two, and they don’t come with an engine. Is it a Mofa or a Moped? Or a Roller? So, yes, I assume ChatGPT would have given me an answer. But can it give you a conversation that segues very quickly from terminology to “mine did 50k, downhill and with the wind from behind” to “I’ll ask my neighbor, he has something that looks exactly like this” to pictures of someone’s beloved scooter from their teenage years? And send you away with a feeling of community? Doubtful.

All the “I would” and “you might” and “we did then, but it sounds wrong to me  now” – that’s what dubbing, and ultimately all forms of localization, is really all about. Every word comes with a huge cloud of associations and feelings and memories, whether you crashed your scooter on your first day out, or have memories connected with freedom or romance when you look at one. All these things factor in when you write a dialogue, something layered and personal, yet accessible to others, and with enough wiggle room for an audience to be able to conjure up their own images.

The pleasure of coming up with something like that, by yourself or in a team, puts the human into dubbing.