Somewhere along the line, various model builders settled on the term “studio scale” to refer to replica models of objects, typically space vehicles, that were originally made for movies and TV. And, predictably, over the years many furious keyboard battles have been waged over the term, usually in a “I’m more model-makery than thou” kind of way.
The battles arise for the usual silly reasons, but also because it’s a completely flawed term. The basic issues are:
a) the expression “studio scale” is inherently misleading,
b) it usually gloms two unrelated concepts together,
c) people who use the term are sometimes really rude to newcomers who don’t know what the term is supposed to mean.
but the biggest problem is:
d) it confuses and misleads folks outside the small community of model-making aficionados.
In everyday life the word “scale” has a very simple and specific meaning. It refers here to the relationship between the actual size of something, and the size of the same thing represented in a model or drawing. This is most usefully expressed as a ratio between numbers. 1:72 is a scale, for example. Sometimes it’s a fraction: 1/24, say.
Descriptions like “large scale” are contextual and vague, and so less useful. Again, scale is the relationship, and so does not have units of measurement.
However, the term “studio scale” means that a model is exactly the same physical size as the model used in the studio for filming. And therein lies the confusion. Size is not a scale! And all kinds of scales have been used in studios over the years.
So it should be studio “sized” and not “scale”.
On top of this misuse of language, we know, or can guess roughly, how big the original shooting models were. They were physical objects used in front of cameras, and really existed at some point. So their size can frequently be known.
But “scale” is usually meaningless for models of fantasy vehicles, which is where the term is usually applied.
By contrast, most cars, jet fighters, and airliners are real objects — we know how big they are or were, and we can thus work out an accurate “scale” for a model. But a movie spaceship is not a real vehicle. And it’s pretty normal for the supposed size of the vehicle to be pretty vague or elastic. The interior of the EVA pod from 2001: A Space Odyssey was larger than the exterior. So is that “studio scale” model to 1:6 scale? Or 1:7 scale? Or something else? The cockpit and hold sets for the Millennium Falcon couldn’t have fit inside the full-sized sets, so how big was the ship? How large is a mighty space battleship or space station? You can’t even use a known object (eg: the physical size of the R2 robots built for Star Wars) as a kind of ruler, because the model and full-sized set spaceships weren't built to the same scale.
I’ve even heard the term “studio scale” being used to refer to fantasy spaceships that were never physical models in the first place – they were purely CGI in the movie. Wow.
Finally some people claim that the term means 1:1 scale to the studio model, but that again doesn’t help because 1:1 isn’t part of the term either.
Second, the term “studio scale” has often been conflated to mean, “built using the same kind of stick-on bits as the original movie model.” In which case we have two non-obvious concepts built into the term.
This is particularly the case with Star Wars space vehicles, which were adorned with “greeblies”: plastic model details harvested from commercial kits like cars and tanks. Accordingly there’s a certain pride associated with making a model that uses the same kit parts. Partially because the resultant models usually look great and unassailably accurate, and partially because it really is an insane amount of work and dedication to do this.
Now, I'll be the first to say that using original kit greeblies is totally awesome, and brings an impressive verisimilitude to a model. My notional hat is firmly off to people with the dedication and commitment to research the parts, find them, and install them on their models. The work involved in building parts maps is really quite something, and an epic detective game. But I do ask – why should a highly detailed 3D printed model be seen as less “studio scale” because it lacks such original parts? It’s still the same scale, whatever that is.
This angle is complicated by the fact that people rarely use the same actual techniques to build the body structure of the vehicles as the original film model makers. The original Millennium Falcon had acrylic domes with wood framing. The 2001 EVA pods were made of wood turned on a lathe, and the arms were aluminium. How many people are going to go to the same length to build a model like that today? Most are going to cast it from resin or 3D print and call it “studio scale.”
There’s also the question of replicating errors or rough features. Do you faithfully copy the blobs of glue around the edges? The visible screws or mounting brackets? The miniature cockpits that don’t match the full-sized set cockpits? The rushed paint jobs? The bits that have fallen off the model over the years? Some people want to do all these things; some don’t.
My point is that to belittle someone for not using original kit parts and to say it’s not “studio scale” accordingly is bad karma.
I personally feel you should be able to build any model you want, any way you want, without people harshing on you for rigid ideological reasons. Well – unless you're using a nonsensical term to describe it!
Which brings us to the last point. Regrettably some studio scale aficionados can be derisive and supercilious to newcomers who don’t know what the term means, even though the term is both misleading and not self-describing.
For example, I've seen at least one Facebook group that had “studio scale” in its name. But the term wasn’t defined anywhere, including the group’s own “about” page. And on a regular basis I noticed newcomers would come along, proudly post photos of their models, and be roundly dismissed because their model doesn’t match the supposed rules of ”studio scale.”
Obviously every community will have its own traditions and terms. And these terms are frequently not obvious to outsiders. That's fair enough. But people can be real jerks about it.
I've known for years what the term means, so I've never borne the brunt of this sort of self-righteousness. But I don't get why people can be so discouraging to newcomers to a hobby!
Finally, my biggest concern. I’ve seen models in museum exhibitions bearing nameplates that use the term. The problem is that hardly anyone in the general viewing public will know the history behind the obscure hobbyist concept and what it means.
And I’ve actually heard people saying that they thought that the thing on display is an original production-made miniature, when it’s actually a lovingly crafted replica. Because the word “studio” is in there, and that's what they (quite reasonably) thought the term meant.
To be clear, I’m not at all opposed to the ideas behind “studio scale”. Quite the opposite – I think it’s a really fun concept. It’s just the name that’s the problem.
And I know some folks admit that “studio scale” has its shortcomings, but keep using it since it has a certain currency within the confines of the model making community. Since I’m an outsider this isn’t an issue for me. Instead, I’d argue that the word “replica” has to be in there. If making it the same size as the original model is the goal, then “studio-sized replica” or “filming replica” are possible alternatives.
If you’re making something for a museum frequented by the public and not by model makers, then “replica of filming model” or “replica of original filming miniature” would be better terms.
As for the second meaning – a model using greeblies stripped from original model kits – well... for that a whole other term should really be invented.
Not that any of this matters. The term is deeply entrenched in the studio scale community, and isn't going anywhere, regardless of what an armchair observer like me has to say about it.
Or, as Patsy might say...
“it’s only a model.”
Anyway. That’s my proverbial £0.02, for what it’s worth. Just a rant written up on a dull train ride, and posted to my site.
As a side note, as bad as “studio scale” is as a term, the toy collecting community has even more confusing terms.
Particularly baffling uses of the word “scale” are probably the terms “six inch scale” for many toy figurines, and “3.75" scale” for Star Wars action figures*. These are utterly non-obvious terms for newcomers to the field.
So-called “six inch scale” apparently derives from the idea that a 6 inch figurine represents a 6 foot tall human. Aside from cultural goofiness – the underlying assumption (both biologically inaccurate and also carrying racist and sexist overtones) that 6 feet tall is the standard ruler for human height, and the embedded use of imperial measures only widely used in one country on the planet – the term isn’t even a ratio. Just as confusingly, this is sometimes called “one inch scale” because one inch represents one foot.
I really don't get it, because a scale could express the same basic concept. 6 inches represents 6 feet (72") and that gives you 1:12! Simple, short, and meaningful. Bandai use 1:12 to describe their Star Wars figure kits.
“3.75 inch scale” is even odder. Apparently it’s popular in the Star Wars toy world because the original Kenner Luke Skywalker action figure was 3.75" tall. And Mark Hamill is apparently 5'9" in height. So people started referring to these Star Wars figurines as 3.75 inch scale, even though eg: Darth Vader is taller and R2-D2 is shorter. Rather than using something unambiguous, like 1:18 scale or whatever.
So much for basic mathematical literacy/numeracy. Math teachers of the world, despair!
* The term “action figure” is particularly amusing, because of course they’re just little dolls. But because they’re little dolls sold to boys, marketers stuck the word “action” in there to sound more manly. What's wrong with calling them dolls or figurines?
Then again, doll houses are usually described as being in 1:12 or 1:24 scales, which is totally sensible!