September 8, 2025 • 25 mins
Choreography copyright exists in a fascinating legal gray area where cultural ownership and legal protection often clash. When Alfonso Ribeiro attempted to claim rights to his iconic "Carlton Dance" from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air after Fortnite used it as a purchasable emote, his case was dismissed because the Copyright Office deemed the routine "too simple" - just three basic dance steps without sufficient originality. This ruling sparked crucial conversations about what makes dance protectable.
The landscape shifted dramatically when choreographer Kyle Hanagami sued Epic Games over a four-count hook from his registered routine appearing in Fortnite. When the Ninth Circuit reversed an initial dismissal in 2023, they delivered a game-changing perspective: "Reducing choreography to isolated poses is like reducing music to single notes." This recognition that even short sequences could embody original expression opened new possibilities for dancers seeking protection.
We explore how this legal evolution continues with Kelly Heyer's ongoing battle against Roblox for monetizing her viral "Apple Dance" without permission. With platforms earning substantial revenue from choreographic content, questions of fair compensation and proper licensing have never been more urgent. Meanwhile, international cases reveal how different jurisdictions approach dance protection - from China's rejection of single-pose copyright to Brazil's emphasis on proving tangible harm.
Through these stories, we distill five crucial principles governing choreography copyright: basic movements remain freely available to all; originality exists in arrangement rather than individual steps; even short sequences can qualify for protection if distinctive enough; evidence of harm matters as much as creativity; and courts continually seek balance between creator rights and cultural freedom. As dance moves from stages to avatars in the metaverse, these principles will shape how we value and protect movement in the digital age.
Ready to dive deeper into intellectual property's fascinating frontiers? Subscribe to Intangiblia and join our exploration of the ideas that shape our creative landscape.
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Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Imagine walking into court and the judge says counsel
, please demonstrate theevidence.
And instead of handing over adocument, you break into the
Carlton.
That's right, the goofy hipswing, Tom Jones powered dance
from the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
This is not a courtroom fantasy, it's a real legal dispute.
That asked can a sitcom dancebecome private property?
Speaker 2 (00:20):
We'll spin through cases where dance routines
weren't just entertainment, theywere exhibit A you are
listening to Intangiblia, thepodcast of intangible law
playing talk about intellectualproperty.
Please welcome your host,leticia Caminero.
Speaker 3 (00:40):
Welcome back to Intangiblia, where innovation
meets legal empowerment.
I'm your host, leticia Caminero, and, as a Latina from the
Dominican Republic, dance is myheartbeat Merengue bachata dembo
.
It's in my DNA.
That's why today's episode ispersonal.
We're exploring what happenswhen choreography whether a
viral TikTok move or acenturies-old performance tries
(01:05):
to claim protection in the legalworld.
Speaker 1 (01:08):
And I'm Thata Misa, your AI co-host, ready to waltz
through case law and cha-chawith the statutes.
Speaker 3 (01:17):
Quick disclaimer this episode is for information and
rhythm only.
Speaker 1 (01:22):
We may break down the moonwalk, but we can't moonwalk
you into legal advice.
Speaker 3 (01:26):
Exactly.
If you want tailored guidance,hire a real lawyer, not a
virtual dance partner.
Let's rewind to the late 80sand early 90s.
The Fresh Prince of Bel-Airwasn't just a sitcom, it was a
cultural reset, and one of themost beloved characters was
Carlton Banks, played by AlfonsoRibeiro.
(01:48):
His trademark that goofy,joyous dance to Tom Jones's is
not unusual Arms swingingstiffly, hips bouncing side to
side, head popping.
It was so awkward that itbecame legendary.
We all know it as the Carlton.
Speaker 1 (02:04):
Fast forward to 2018.
Fortnite is the biggest videogame in the world.
Epic Games is selling emotes,little dance animations you can
buy for your avatar.
And lo and behold, there it isa move almost identical to the
Carlton.
Speaker 3 (02:20):
Alfonso Ribeiro filed lawsuits against Epic and also
Take-Two Interactive, thepublisher of NBA 2K16, where the
dance appeared.
To His claim, they copied hisiconic routine and sold it
without permission, violatinghis rights.
Speaker 1 (02:38):
It sounded like a slam dunk or maybe a slam dance,
but here's the plot twist theUS Copyright Office stepped in
and rejected River Barrel'sapplication to register the Carl
slam dance.
But here's the plot twist theUS Copyright Office stepped in
and rejected River Barrel'sapplication to register the
Carlton dance.
Speaker 3 (02:50):
Their reasoning was simple but brutal.
They said the Carlton was justa simple routine made up of
three dance steps, too short,too generic, not enough
originality.
In copyright terms it was liketrying to copyright the shacha
slide or the macarena Fun iconicbut legally considered basic
(03:12):
vocabulary of movement.
Speaker 1 (03:15):
Without a copyright registration.
Ribiru's lawsuits had no legallegs to boogie on.
By March 2019, he dropped bothcases.
No damages, no trial, just ahard stop.
Speaker 3 (03:27):
But here's the deeper beat.
This case highlighted a hugegap in copyright law.
The public saw the cartoon asuniquely Riveros, part of his
persona, part of pop culturehistory, but the law said, nope,
it's too minimal.
That clash between culturalownership and legal ownership is
(03:47):
what made the case famous.
Speaker 1 (03:50):
And it laid the groundwork for later disputes.
Courts began asking if theCarlton was too simple, then
what about slightly longer ormore complex routines?
Could a few counts of eight beenough?
That's where Hanagami's case,years later, picked up the
rhythm.
Speaker 3 (04:05):
So while Riviero lost in court, he started a bigger
conversation how do we protectshort, viral, iconic dances that
everyone recognizes but the lawtreats as unprotectable?
Speaker 1 (04:22):
It's the classic two-step of copyright Keep the
building blocks free foreveryone, but protect the unique
combinations.
The Carlton didn't make the cut, but it set the stage literally
for choreography to fightharder for recognition in NIP
law.
Speaker 3 (04:37):
After the Carlton lost its legal groove, many
choreographers wondered ifcopyright would ever dance in
their favor.
Many choreographers wondered ifcopyright would ever dance in
their favor.
Enter Kyle Hanagami, one of themost influential choreographers
on YouTube.
If you've ever fallen into aYouTube rabbit hole of slick
studio lead dance videos,chances are you've seen his work
.
Speaker 1 (04:58):
He's choreographed for pop stars like Blackpink,
justin Bieber and Britney Spears, but also built a massive
online audience.
In 2017, he uploaded a routineto Charlie Puth's song how Long
it Went Viral over 35 millionviews, and within that full
routine there was a shortfour-count hook that fans
(05:19):
instantly recognized as thesignature move.
Speaker 3 (05:21):
A few years later, that same hook shows up inside
Fortnite as a purchasable emotecalled it's Complicated For Epic
Games.
It was just another dance tosell to millions of gamers For
Hanagami.
It was his creative fingerprint, a piece of his artistic.
Speaker 1 (05:41):
DNA, artistic DNA.
So he sued Epic in 2022, armedwith something Ribeiro didn't
have a registered copyright forthe full choreography.
That's key he had already fixedhis routine in a tangible
medium video and registered it.
He wasn't just asking courts torecognize a vibe, he had
paperwork.
Speaker 3 (05:59):
At first the district court played the same tune as
the Carlton case.
They dismissed the suit sayingthe copied snippet was just
poses.
Too short, too simple.
Basically, one grapevinedoesn't make a ballet.
Speaker 1 (06:13):
But then came the real legal twist In 2023, the
Ninth Circuit Court of Appealsreversed the dismissal and their
reasoning Chef's kiss, theysaid.
Reducing choreography toisolated poses is like reducing
music to single notes.
You don't judge a symphony byone note and you don't judge a
(06:34):
dance by one freeze frame.
Speaker 3 (06:36):
The court recognized choreography as more than just
steps.
It's the selection andarrangement of body movements,
timing, space transitions andenergy.
Even a four count can embodyoriginal expression if it's
distinctive and central to thework.
Speaker 1 (06:56):
That was revolutionary, because if the
Carlton couldn't cha-cha intoprotection, Hanagami's four
counts showed that even shortsequences might carry enough
creativity to be shielded.
Suddenly, viral choreographershad hope.
Speaker 3 (07:11):
The case was set for trial but before the jury could
watch lawyers argue.
About head bulbs and fingerpoints, epix settled in 2024.
About head bulbs and fingerpoints Epic settled in 2024.
The terms were in public butthe settlement meant Hanagami
got recognition and maybe someroyalties for his creative stamp
.
Speaker 1 (07:32):
Legally, this case is huge.
It's the first appellatedecision in the US to say yes,
choreography deserves carefultreatment just like music or
literature.
It signaled a cultural shift.
Dance isn't filler, it's an artform worth protecting.
Speaker 3 (07:48):
For choreographers around the world it was like
winning.
So you Think you Can Dance.
Core edition Register yourworks, show originality in the
arrangement and even short viralhooks can have legal rhythm.
Speaker 1 (08:03):
Hanagami didn't just win for himself, he gave
choreographers a louder beat tomove to in courtrooms everywhere
.
Speaker 3 (08:11):
Aye, by 2025, the legal spotlight had shifted from
Fortnite to another digitalgiant, Roblox.
If Fortnite was the flashynightclub of gaming, Roblox is
the massive street festivalMillions of players building
their own worlds, trading skinsand yes, buying emotes.
Speaker 1 (08:32):
Enter choreographer Kelly Heyer, known for creating
the viral apple dance Picture.
A crisp, playful routine, armsmimicking the shape of an apple,
quick footwork and a spin thatmade it instantly meme-worthy.
The kind of dance that goesfrom TikTok challenges to
morning shows in the blink of aneye.
Speaker 3 (08:50):
But then she found out her creation had slipped
into Roblox without her finalgreen light.
The platform had turned theapple dance into a purchasable
light.
The platform had turned theApple dance into a purchasable
avatar, emote, Price tag.
A few Roblox here and thereSales around 60,000 copies.
(09:13):
In real world terms, Robloxmade over $120,000.
Zero cents of that routine.
Speaker 1 (09:17):
That's not just pocket change.
That's like an orchard ofapples and none of it.
Speaker 3 (09:21):
Going back to the farmer who planted the seed so
in april 2025, hired sue robloxin california federal court.
Her argument is simple you canmonetize my choreography without
a license.
Speaker 1 (09:35):
Viral doesn't mean free for all and this case has
the potential to do what RiverRose Carlton didn't, and even
what Hanagami's did only in partpush the law into the metaverse
.
Because here we're not justtalking about YouTube videos or
game emotes.
We're talking about avatarsperforming dances inside a
user-generated universe.
Speaker 3 (09:57):
Exactly.
The stakes are high.
If Heyer wins, platforms likeRoblox, Fortnite and TikTok
might have to radically rethinkhow they handle viral dance
content.
Instead of scraping trends andcoding them into emotes, they'd
need proper licenses or risklawsuits.
Risk lawsuits.
Speaker 1 (10:18):
And if she loses?
Well, the message tochoreographers would be clear
your dance may go viral, but inthe virtual world it might still
slip through your fingers likesmoke on the dance floor.
Speaker 3 (10:31):
Yeah, either way.
Hater B Roblox is a test case.
It forces courts to ask whendigital avatars dance, whose
rights are in motion?
The creators, the platforms ornobody's?
Speaker 1 (10:43):
at all.
For now the case is stillpending, but the rhythm is
unmistakable.
The next great copyrightbattles aren't just about music
or film.
They're about who owns themoves your avatar busts out on a
Friday night in the metaverse.
Speaker 3 (10:57):
Just when you thought Fortnite might sit down for a
breather, another choreographerstepped onto the stage.
Meet Felix Burgos, aprofessional dancer and
choreographer who says EpicGames copied his routine and
turned it into yet another emotewithout permission.
Speaker 1 (11:16):
Fortnite is less like a video game and more like a
dance competition, with lawsuitswaiting in the wings.
You buy a new emote and behindit there might be a
choreographer saying hey, thoseare my steps.
Speaker 3 (11:42):
Burgos filed suit in 2025 following the trail
Hanagami plays and hirescurrently walking claim points
to Fortnite's commercial use ofsignature choreography, arguing
that Epic has a pattern ofpulling from real-life viral or
professional routines andcashing in.
Speaker 1 (11:49):
It's almost like Fortnite has become a giant
remix DJ, spinning snippets ofdance culture but forgetting to
credit the artist behind thebeats.
Speaker 3 (11:59):
Legally the case is still pending, but it matters
because it pushes the questionfurther.
At what point does bottominspiration become infringement?
Hanagami showed courts arewilling to recognize short
sequences.
Hayek is testing the metaverselicensing angle and Burgos he's
trying to prove that Epic'spractices are systematic, not
(12:22):
isolated.
Speaker 1 (12:23):
And that's a big deal .
If a court rules that Epicrepeatedly misappropriated
routines, it could lead not justto damages for one
choreographer but possibly openthe door to collective actions
or industry-wide reforms.
Imagine dance unions or guildsdemanding licensing deals from
gaming companies the same waymusic labels do.
Speaker 3 (12:45):
Bober's case could be the one that says choreography
isn't just content, it'scommerce, and if you're making
millions of it, you owe thecreators their share of the
rhythm.
Speaker 1 (12:57):
For now, the spotlight's on the California
court docket, but thechoreography of litigation is
already clear.
Epic can't keep dodging thesecases like a clumsy partner on
the dance floor.
Eventually they'll have to facethe music.
Speaker 2 (13:13):
Intangiblia, the podcast of intangible law.
Playing talk about intellectualproperty.
Speaker 3 (13:20):
Now let's travel east , to Beijing, where the line
between art and law took centerstage.
The star of this case, YangLiping, one of China's most
celebrated choreographers, oftencalled the peacock princess.
Her works like the Peacock andMoonlight are world-renowned for
blending traditional Yunnandance with modern stagecraft.
Speaker 1 (13:43):
Imagine walking into a restaurant and seeing a giant
mural or video loop of one ofher signature poses.
That's what happened here.
A restaurant chain called YunHai Yao, famous for its Yunnan
cuisine, decorated its spacesand ads with imagery lifted from
Yang Liping's Moonlight Dance.
Speaker 3 (14:01):
For Yang, this wasn't just decoration.
That single pose, her bodycurved like a crescent, hands
shimmering like moonbeams, was adistilled piece of her life's
work.
So she sued for copyrightinfringement.
Speaker 1 (14:17):
At first she won.
The trial court agreed that therestaurant had crossed the line
by commercializing her danceimagery without permission.
It looked like a victory.
A single pose is notcopyrightable.
Speaker 3 (14:27):
Copyright they said, protects a choreographic work as
a continuous arrangement ofmovements, not an isolated still
(14:50):
image.
Speaker 1 (14:51):
It's like saying one step doesn't make a tango, one
pose doesn't make a ballet.
Just as you can't copyright asingle word, you can't claim
exclusive rights over a singledramatic movement.
Speaker 3 (15:02):
The court also drew a boundary around what counts as
choreography.
It excluded costumes, lightingand stage design from the
definition.
Those might be protectable intheir own right as artistic or
audiovisual works, but theyaren't part of the choreography
in a copyright sense.
Speaker 1 (15:23):
So the restaurant walked away without infringement
liability.
The only potential claim leftwas under unfair competition law
, which is weaker and harder toprove damages.
Speaker 3 (15:35):
For the dance world, this was a sobering moment.
Yanl Lipi is an icon, but evenher most recognizable pose
wasn't enough for copyright.
It reinforced a globalprinciple copyright protects the
flow of a dance, not a frozengesture.
Speaker 1 (15:53):
And still the case sparked lively debate in China's
legal and artistic communities.
Some felt the court was toorigid, ignoring the creative
depth that can exist in a singlemoment of choreography.
Others applauded the decision,warning that if every dramatic
pose were owned, dance itselfwould grind to a halt.
No one could move withoutrisking infringement.
Speaker 3 (16:17):
It's the eternal balancing act, protecting
creators without handcuffingculture, and Yang Libin's case
showed that, at least in China,the courts are drawing that line
carefully.
No ownership of basic steps orposes, but recognition for the
larger choreographic whole.
Speaker 1 (16:37):
In other words, you can own the dance, but not the
moonlight itself.
Speaker 3 (16:41):
Now let's stay in China for one more dance.
This time, the stage isn't asingle iconic pose, but an
entire performance, a complextapestry of puppetry, opera
costumes, and still walking.
The case is Shanghai Wulunculture, called VD slash G.
It's one of the first Chineseruling to really grapple with
(17:03):
choreography as a composite workof art.
Speaker 1 (17:07):
Here's the story.
Wulun culture created aperformance called Looking for
Peony Pavilion.
Imagine a nighttime open airspectacle dancers on towering
stilts, actors in elaboratecunquit opera costumes, puppets
moving in harmony with liveperformers.
It was meant to be immersive,site-specific, a modern spin on
(17:30):
traditional Chinese performance.
The company had been booked toperform at a theme park, but
when the contract fell throughthanks to the pandemic
cancellations, something strangehappened.
The theme park staged its ownversion of the performance, with
nearly identical characters,costumes and choreography.
Speaker 3 (17:57):
Basically the show went on without the original
creators.
At first Wooloon sued and lost.
The trial court said this isn'tinfringement, it's just similar
elements and many of them comefrom public tradition.
Speaker 1 (18:07):
But then came the appeal.
The Shanghai Higher People'sCourt saw it differently.
They reversed the decision andruled in Wulun's favor, awarding
damages and recognizing theperformance as an original
protectable work.
Speaker 3 (18:20):
The reasoning is important.
The core said that whilecostumes, puppets and opera
characters might individuallydraw from tradition, the way
Willem combined them into acohesive stage performance
created something new.
Originality wasn't in eachelement, but in the arrangement,
in how puppets, stilt walkersand singers interacted to form a
(18:44):
unified visual andchoreographic work.
Speaker 1 (18:48):
It's the choreography principle Chinese edition, not
the basic steps or props, butthe creative arrangement that
matters.
Speaker 3 (18:55):
And here, unlike the Yang Liping case, the court
recognized that a performancecan be protectable even if it
borrows from cultural heritage.
What counted was the creativesynthesis.
Speaker 1 (19:08):
So if Yang Liping's moonlit pose taught us that you
can't monopolize a singlegesture, Wu Lun's Peony Pavilion
case taught us that when youweave enough elements into a new
whole, the law will step in toprotect it elements into a new
whole.
Speaker 3 (19:23):
The law will step in to protect it.
For choreographers, this was awin.
It affirmed that even intraditions full of shared
cultural symbols there's stillroom for individual creativity,
and that originality can emergefrom the fusion of old and new.
Speaker 1 (19:39):
In other words, china's courts did a two-step,
protecting complexity whilekeeping the basics free.
Speaker 3 (19:44):
And with that we've covered a fascinating East Asian
double act Yang Liping showingthe limits of copyright and
Shanghai Walloon showing itsreach.
And now we fly back to LatinAmerica, to Brazil, where funk,
samba and bail funk often setthe global dance floor on fire.
Samba and bail funk often setthe global dance floor on fire.
(20:06):
Our case here involves Polianade Silva Rivero, a choreographer
and Brazil's biggestinternational pop star.
Speaker 1 (20:10):
Anita.
If you've seen Anita perform,you know she's all about bold
moves.
Literally Her music videos andstage shows are as choreographed
as any Broadway production.
But this time the dance didn'tjust stay on stage, it stepped
into court.
Speaker 3 (20:25):
Poliana Livivero claimed that Anita had reposted
one of her older choreographyvideos from 2012 onto social
media without consent orcompensation.
Livivero argued that herartistic rights had been
violated and demanded damages.
Speaker 1 (20:45):
Argued that her artistic rights had been
violated and demanded damages.
150,000 reais, about $30,000.
That's not just lunch money InBrazil.
It's the kind of figure thatsays choreography isn't just an
afterthought, it's labor,creativity and livelihood.
Speaker 3 (20:56):
The case went before the seventh civil court in Barra
da Tiuca, rio de Janeiro, andthe ruling the judge dismissed
Ribeirero's claim.
Why?
Because she couldn't proveactual harm or that Anita's post
violated her personality rightsin a legally significant way.
Speaker 1 (21:18):
So, unlike Hanagami's four count victory in the US,
ribeirero didn't get a legalencore.
The court basically said nodamages, no infringement that we
can measure, no payout.
Speaker 3 (21:31):
But here's the nuance Brazil's copyright law does
recognize choreography, obrascoográficas and pantomimicas as
protectable works when they'refixed in writing or otherwise.
The law is there, the legalframework exists.
Riviero's case failed notbecause choreography can be
(21:52):
protected, but because proofmatters.
She couldn't show how repostingthat old video caused her
measurable loss or exploited hercreativity in a way the law
recognizes.
Speaker 1 (22:05):
It's a lesson in evidentiary choreography.
Having the moves isn't enough.
You've got to show the steps ofhow the violation hurt you.
Speaker 3 (22:15):
And culturally it was symbolic.
This was one of the firsthigh-profile Brazilian cases to
spotlight choreography in an IPdispute.
It shows that in Latin America,dance creators are starting to
test the waters of copyright law, even if the results are still
mixed.
Speaker 1 (22:34):
So while Ribeiro didn't semba out of court with
the win, she did set the stage.
Future choreographers in Braziland across the region now know
the law recognizes their art.
But the rhythm of proof is justas important as the rhythm of
the music.
Speaker 3 (22:51):
Exactly Protecting choreography in Latin America is
still warming up, but this caseis one more step pun intended
toward dancers claiming theirrightful place in the hype
spotlight.
So, after spinning through allthese cases, what are the five
big steps we can take away aboutchoreography and the law?
Speaker 1 (23:15):
Step one.
Not every dance is protectable.
The law draws a line betweenbuilding blocks and creative
works.
A basic move, a social routineor a gesture alone is like a
single drum beat.
It belongs to everyone.
Protection kicks in when thosebeats become a full composition.
Speaker 3 (23:35):
Originality lives in the arrangement.
What makes choreography legallyspecial isn't the kick, the
turn or the dip by themselves.
It's how those elements arecombined, sequenced and timed to
create something expressive andunique.
That selection and arrangementis the choreography's DNA.
Speaker 1 (23:57):
Step three short can still shine.
Even a few counts of movement,if they carry the essence of a
creator's style, can be treatedas original, just like a
memorable guitar riff or acatchy lyric.
A short routine can pack enoughcreative punch to deserve
protection.
Step four proof matters as muchas creativity.
It's not enough to feel copied.
You need to show the impact.
(24:18):
Was there unauthorized use?
Was there financial gain?
Was your reputation orrecognition diminished?
Without evidence, the casefalls flat, no matter how
brilliant the choreography.
Speaker 3 (24:30):
In step five.
Balance is everything.
The law is constantly trying tofind the sweet spots between
protecting creators and keepingculture moving freely.
Too much protection, and nobodycould dance without asking
permission.
Too little, and choreographerscan't make a living from their
(24:50):
art.
Those are the five moves.
Courts keep circling back toFreedom, originality,
recognition, proof and balance.
Speaker 1 (24:58):
It's a legal choreography of its own and,
just like on any dance floor,knowing the steps makes all the
difference.
Speaker 2 (25:08):
Thank you for listening to Intangiblia, the
podcast of intangible lawplaying.
Talk about intellectualproperty.
Did you like what we talkedtoday?
Please share with your network.
Do you want to learn more aboutintellectual property?
Subscribe now on your favoritepodcast player.
Follow us on Instagram,facebook, linkedin and Twitter.
(25:28):
Visit our websitewwwintangibliacom.
Copyright Leticia Caminero 2020.
All rights reserved.
This podcast is provided forinformation purposes only.
Imagine walking into court and the judge says counsel
, please demonstrate theevidence.
And instead of handing over adocument, you break into the
Carlton.
That's right, the goofy hipswing, Tom Jones powered dance
from the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
This is not a courtroom fantasy, it's a real legal dispute.
That asked can a sitcom dancebecome private property?
Speaker 2 (00:20):
We'll spin through cases where dance routines
weren't just entertainment, theywere exhibit A you are
listening to Intangiblia, thepodcast of intangible law
playing talk about intellectualproperty.
Please welcome your host,leticia Caminero.
Speaker 3 (00:40):
Welcome back to Intangiblia, where innovation
meets legal empowerment.
I'm your host, leticia Caminero, and, as a Latina from the
Dominican Republic, dance is myheartbeat Merengue bachata dembo
.
It's in my DNA.
That's why today's episode ispersonal.
We're exploring what happenswhen choreography whether a
viral TikTok move or acenturies-old performance tries
(01:05):
to claim protection in the legalworld.
Speaker 1 (01:08):
And I'm Thata Misa, your AI co-host, ready to waltz
through case law and cha-chawith the statutes.
Speaker 3 (01:17):
Quick disclaimer this episode is for information and
rhythm only.
Speaker 1 (01:22):
We may break down the moonwalk, but we can't moonwalk
you into legal advice.
Speaker 3 (01:26):
Exactly.
If you want tailored guidance,hire a real lawyer, not a
virtual dance partner.
Let's rewind to the late 80sand early 90s.
The Fresh Prince of Bel-Airwasn't just a sitcom, it was a
cultural reset, and one of themost beloved characters was
Carlton Banks, played by AlfonsoRibeiro.
(01:48):
His trademark that goofy,joyous dance to Tom Jones's is
not unusual Arms swingingstiffly, hips bouncing side to
side, head popping.
It was so awkward that itbecame legendary.
We all know it as the Carlton.
Speaker 1 (02:04):
Fast forward to 2018.
Fortnite is the biggest videogame in the world.
Epic Games is selling emotes,little dance animations you can
buy for your avatar.
And lo and behold, there it isa move almost identical to the
Carlton.
Speaker 3 (02:20):
Alfonso Ribeiro filed lawsuits against Epic and also
Take-Two Interactive, thepublisher of NBA 2K16, where the
dance appeared.
To His claim, they copied hisiconic routine and sold it
without permission, violatinghis rights.
Speaker 1 (02:38):
It sounded like a slam dunk or maybe a slam dance,
but here's the plot twist theUS Copyright Office stepped in
and rejected River Barrel'sapplication to register the Carl
slam dance.
But here's the plot twist theUS Copyright Office stepped in
and rejected River Barrel'sapplication to register the
Carlton dance.
Speaker 3 (02:50):
Their reasoning was simple but brutal.
They said the Carlton was justa simple routine made up of
three dance steps, too short,too generic, not enough
originality.
In copyright terms it was liketrying to copyright the shacha
slide or the macarena Fun iconicbut legally considered basic
(03:12):
vocabulary of movement.
Speaker 1 (03:15):
Without a copyright registration.
Ribiru's lawsuits had no legallegs to boogie on.
By March 2019, he dropped bothcases.
No damages, no trial, just ahard stop.
Speaker 3 (03:27):
But here's the deeper beat.
This case highlighted a hugegap in copyright law.
The public saw the cartoon asuniquely Riveros, part of his
persona, part of pop culturehistory, but the law said, nope,
it's too minimal.
That clash between culturalownership and legal ownership is
(03:47):
what made the case famous.
Speaker 1 (03:50):
And it laid the groundwork for later disputes.
Courts began asking if theCarlton was too simple, then
what about slightly longer ormore complex routines?
Could a few counts of eight beenough?
That's where Hanagami's case,years later, picked up the
rhythm.
Speaker 3 (04:05):
So while Riviero lost in court, he started a bigger
conversation how do we protectshort, viral, iconic dances that
everyone recognizes but the lawtreats as unprotectable?
Speaker 1 (04:22):
It's the classic two-step of copyright Keep the
building blocks free foreveryone, but protect the unique
combinations.
The Carlton didn't make the cut, but it set the stage literally
for choreography to fightharder for recognition in NIP
law.
Speaker 3 (04:37):
After the Carlton lost its legal groove, many
choreographers wondered ifcopyright would ever dance in
their favor.
Many choreographers wondered ifcopyright would ever dance in
their favor.
Enter Kyle Hanagami, one of themost influential choreographers
on YouTube.
If you've ever fallen into aYouTube rabbit hole of slick
studio lead dance videos,chances are you've seen his work
.
Speaker 1 (04:58):
He's choreographed for pop stars like Blackpink,
justin Bieber and Britney Spears, but also built a massive
online audience.
In 2017, he uploaded a routineto Charlie Puth's song how Long
it Went Viral over 35 millionviews, and within that full
routine there was a shortfour-count hook that fans
(05:19):
instantly recognized as thesignature move.
Speaker 3 (05:21):
A few years later, that same hook shows up inside
Fortnite as a purchasable emotecalled it's Complicated For Epic
Games.
It was just another dance tosell to millions of gamers For
Hanagami.
It was his creative fingerprint, a piece of his artistic.
Speaker 1 (05:41):
DNA, artistic DNA.
So he sued Epic in 2022, armedwith something Ribeiro didn't
have a registered copyright forthe full choreography.
That's key he had already fixedhis routine in a tangible
medium video and registered it.
He wasn't just asking courts torecognize a vibe, he had
paperwork.
Speaker 3 (05:59):
At first the district court played the same tune as
the Carlton case.
They dismissed the suit sayingthe copied snippet was just
poses.
Too short, too simple.
Basically, one grapevinedoesn't make a ballet.
Speaker 1 (06:13):
But then came the real legal twist In 2023, the
Ninth Circuit Court of Appealsreversed the dismissal and their
reasoning Chef's kiss, theysaid.
Reducing choreography toisolated poses is like reducing
music to single notes.
You don't judge a symphony byone note and you don't judge a
(06:34):
dance by one freeze frame.
Speaker 3 (06:36):
The court recognized choreography as more than just
steps.
It's the selection andarrangement of body movements,
timing, space transitions andenergy.
Even a four count can embodyoriginal expression if it's
distinctive and central to thework.
Speaker 1 (06:56):
That was revolutionary, because if the
Carlton couldn't cha-cha intoprotection, Hanagami's four
counts showed that even shortsequences might carry enough
creativity to be shielded.
Suddenly, viral choreographershad hope.
Speaker 3 (07:11):
The case was set for trial but before the jury could
watch lawyers argue.
About head bulbs and fingerpoints, epix settled in 2024.
About head bulbs and fingerpoints Epic settled in 2024.
The terms were in public butthe settlement meant Hanagami
got recognition and maybe someroyalties for his creative stamp
.
Speaker 1 (07:32):
Legally, this case is huge.
It's the first appellatedecision in the US to say yes,
choreography deserves carefultreatment just like music or
literature.
It signaled a cultural shift.
Dance isn't filler, it's an artform worth protecting.
Speaker 3 (07:48):
For choreographers around the world it was like
winning.
So you Think you Can Dance.
Core edition Register yourworks, show originality in the
arrangement and even short viralhooks can have legal rhythm.
Speaker 1 (08:03):
Hanagami didn't just win for himself, he gave
choreographers a louder beat tomove to in courtrooms everywhere
.
Speaker 3 (08:11):
Aye, by 2025, the legal spotlight had shifted from
Fortnite to another digitalgiant, Roblox.
If Fortnite was the flashynightclub of gaming, Roblox is
the massive street festivalMillions of players building
their own worlds, trading skinsand yes, buying emotes.
Speaker 1 (08:32):
Enter choreographer Kelly Heyer, known for creating
the viral apple dance Picture.
A crisp, playful routine, armsmimicking the shape of an apple,
quick footwork and a spin thatmade it instantly meme-worthy.
The kind of dance that goesfrom TikTok challenges to
morning shows in the blink of aneye.
Speaker 3 (08:50):
But then she found out her creation had slipped
into Roblox without her finalgreen light.
The platform had turned theapple dance into a purchasable
light.
The platform had turned theApple dance into a purchasable
avatar, emote, Price tag.
A few Roblox here and thereSales around 60,000 copies.
(09:13):
In real world terms, Robloxmade over $120,000.
Zero cents of that routine.
Speaker 1 (09:17):
That's not just pocket change.
That's like an orchard ofapples and none of it.
Speaker 3 (09:21):
Going back to the farmer who planted the seed so
in april 2025, hired sue robloxin california federal court.
Her argument is simple you canmonetize my choreography without
a license.
Speaker 1 (09:35):
Viral doesn't mean free for all and this case has
the potential to do what RiverRose Carlton didn't, and even
what Hanagami's did only in partpush the law into the metaverse
.
Because here we're not justtalking about YouTube videos or
game emotes.
We're talking about avatarsperforming dances inside a
user-generated universe.
Speaker 3 (09:57):
Exactly.
The stakes are high.
If Heyer wins, platforms likeRoblox, Fortnite and TikTok
might have to radically rethinkhow they handle viral dance
content.
Instead of scraping trends andcoding them into emotes, they'd
need proper licenses or risklawsuits.
Risk lawsuits.
Speaker 1 (10:18):
And if she loses?
Well, the message tochoreographers would be clear
your dance may go viral, but inthe virtual world it might still
slip through your fingers likesmoke on the dance floor.
Speaker 3 (10:31):
Yeah, either way.
Hater B Roblox is a test case.
It forces courts to ask whendigital avatars dance, whose
rights are in motion?
The creators, the platforms ornobody's?
Speaker 1 (10:43):
at all.
For now the case is stillpending, but the rhythm is
unmistakable.
The next great copyrightbattles aren't just about music
or film.
They're about who owns themoves your avatar busts out on a
Friday night in the metaverse.
Speaker 3 (10:57):
Just when you thought Fortnite might sit down for a
breather, another choreographerstepped onto the stage.
Meet Felix Burgos, aprofessional dancer and
choreographer who says EpicGames copied his routine and
turned it into yet another emotewithout permission.
Speaker 1 (11:16):
Fortnite is less like a video game and more like a
dance competition, with lawsuitswaiting in the wings.
You buy a new emote and behindit there might be a
choreographer saying hey, thoseare my steps.
Speaker 3 (11:42):
Burgos filed suit in 2025 following the trail
Hanagami plays and hirescurrently walking claim points
to Fortnite's commercial use ofsignature choreography, arguing
that Epic has a pattern ofpulling from real-life viral or
professional routines andcashing in.
Speaker 1 (11:49):
It's almost like Fortnite has become a giant
remix DJ, spinning snippets ofdance culture but forgetting to
credit the artist behind thebeats.
Speaker 3 (11:59):
Legally the case is still pending, but it matters
because it pushes the questionfurther.
At what point does bottominspiration become infringement?
Hanagami showed courts arewilling to recognize short
sequences.
Hayek is testing the metaverselicensing angle and Burgos he's
trying to prove that Epic'spractices are systematic, not
(12:22):
isolated.
Speaker 1 (12:23):
And that's a big deal .
If a court rules that Epicrepeatedly misappropriated
routines, it could lead not justto damages for one
choreographer but possibly openthe door to collective actions
or industry-wide reforms.
Imagine dance unions or guildsdemanding licensing deals from
gaming companies the same waymusic labels do.
Speaker 3 (12:45):
Bober's case could be the one that says choreography
isn't just content, it'scommerce, and if you're making
millions of it, you owe thecreators their share of the
rhythm.
Speaker 1 (12:57):
For now, the spotlight's on the California
court docket, but thechoreography of litigation is
already clear.
Epic can't keep dodging thesecases like a clumsy partner on
the dance floor.
Eventually they'll have to facethe music.
Speaker 2 (13:13):
Intangiblia, the podcast of intangible law.
Playing talk about intellectualproperty.
Speaker 3 (13:20):
Now let's travel east , to Beijing, where the line
between art and law took centerstage.
The star of this case, YangLiping, one of China's most
celebrated choreographers, oftencalled the peacock princess.
Her works like the Peacock andMoonlight are world-renowned for
blending traditional Yunnandance with modern stagecraft.
Speaker 1 (13:43):
Imagine walking into a restaurant and seeing a giant
mural or video loop of one ofher signature poses.
That's what happened here.
A restaurant chain called YunHai Yao, famous for its Yunnan
cuisine, decorated its spacesand ads with imagery lifted from
Yang Liping's Moonlight Dance.
Speaker 3 (14:01):
For Yang, this wasn't just decoration.
That single pose, her bodycurved like a crescent, hands
shimmering like moonbeams, was adistilled piece of her life's
work.
So she sued for copyrightinfringement.
Speaker 1 (14:17):
At first she won.
The trial court agreed that therestaurant had crossed the line
by commercializing her danceimagery without permission.
It looked like a victory.
A single pose is notcopyrightable.
Speaker 3 (14:27):
Copyright they said, protects a choreographic work as
a continuous arrangement ofmovements, not an isolated still
(14:50):
image.
Speaker 1 (14:51):
It's like saying one step doesn't make a tango, one
pose doesn't make a ballet.
Just as you can't copyright asingle word, you can't claim
exclusive rights over a singledramatic movement.
Speaker 3 (15:02):
The court also drew a boundary around what counts as
choreography.
It excluded costumes, lightingand stage design from the
definition.
Those might be protectable intheir own right as artistic or
audiovisual works, but theyaren't part of the choreography
in a copyright sense.
Speaker 1 (15:23):
So the restaurant walked away without infringement
liability.
The only potential claim leftwas under unfair competition law
, which is weaker and harder toprove damages.
Speaker 3 (15:35):
For the dance world, this was a sobering moment.
Yanl Lipi is an icon, but evenher most recognizable pose
wasn't enough for copyright.
It reinforced a globalprinciple copyright protects the
flow of a dance, not a frozengesture.
Speaker 1 (15:53):
And still the case sparked lively debate in China's
legal and artistic communities.
Some felt the court was toorigid, ignoring the creative
depth that can exist in a singlemoment of choreography.
Others applauded the decision,warning that if every dramatic
pose were owned, dance itselfwould grind to a halt.
No one could move withoutrisking infringement.
Speaker 3 (16:17):
It's the eternal balancing act, protecting
creators without handcuffingculture, and Yang Libin's case
showed that, at least in China,the courts are drawing that line
carefully.
No ownership of basic steps orposes, but recognition for the
larger choreographic whole.
Speaker 1 (16:37):
In other words, you can own the dance, but not the
moonlight itself.
Speaker 3 (16:41):
Now let's stay in China for one more dance.
This time, the stage isn't asingle iconic pose, but an
entire performance, a complextapestry of puppetry, opera
costumes, and still walking.
The case is Shanghai Wulunculture, called VD slash G.
It's one of the first Chineseruling to really grapple with
(17:03):
choreography as a composite workof art.
Speaker 1 (17:07):
Here's the story.
Wulun culture created aperformance called Looking for
Peony Pavilion.
Imagine a nighttime open airspectacle dancers on towering
stilts, actors in elaboratecunquit opera costumes, puppets
moving in harmony with liveperformers.
It was meant to be immersive,site-specific, a modern spin on
(17:30):
traditional Chinese performance.
The company had been booked toperform at a theme park, but
when the contract fell throughthanks to the pandemic
cancellations, something strangehappened.
The theme park staged its ownversion of the performance, with
nearly identical characters,costumes and choreography.
Speaker 3 (17:57):
Basically the show went on without the original
creators.
At first Wooloon sued and lost.
The trial court said this isn'tinfringement, it's just similar
elements and many of them comefrom public tradition.
Speaker 1 (18:07):
But then came the appeal.
The Shanghai Higher People'sCourt saw it differently.
They reversed the decision andruled in Wulun's favor, awarding
damages and recognizing theperformance as an original
protectable work.
Speaker 3 (18:20):
The reasoning is important.
The core said that whilecostumes, puppets and opera
characters might individuallydraw from tradition, the way
Willem combined them into acohesive stage performance
created something new.
Originality wasn't in eachelement, but in the arrangement,
in how puppets, stilt walkersand singers interacted to form a
(18:44):
unified visual andchoreographic work.
Speaker 1 (18:48):
It's the choreography principle Chinese edition, not
the basic steps or props, butthe creative arrangement that
matters.
Speaker 3 (18:55):
And here, unlike the Yang Liping case, the court
recognized that a performancecan be protectable even if it
borrows from cultural heritage.
What counted was the creativesynthesis.
Speaker 1 (19:08):
So if Yang Liping's moonlit pose taught us that you
can't monopolize a singlegesture, Wu Lun's Peony Pavilion
case taught us that when youweave enough elements into a new
whole, the law will step in toprotect it elements into a new
whole.
Speaker 3 (19:23):
The law will step in to protect it.
For choreographers, this was awin.
It affirmed that even intraditions full of shared
cultural symbols there's stillroom for individual creativity,
and that originality can emergefrom the fusion of old and new.
Speaker 1 (19:39):
In other words, china's courts did a two-step,
protecting complexity whilekeeping the basics free.
Speaker 3 (19:44):
And with that we've covered a fascinating East Asian
double act Yang Liping showingthe limits of copyright and
Shanghai Walloon showing itsreach.
And now we fly back to LatinAmerica, to Brazil, where funk,
samba and bail funk often setthe global dance floor on fire.
Samba and bail funk often setthe global dance floor on fire.
(20:06):
Our case here involves Polianade Silva Rivero, a choreographer
and Brazil's biggestinternational pop star.
Speaker 1 (20:10):
Anita.
If you've seen Anita perform,you know she's all about bold
moves.
Literally Her music videos andstage shows are as choreographed
as any Broadway production.
But this time the dance didn'tjust stay on stage, it stepped
into court.
Speaker 3 (20:25):
Poliana Livivero claimed that Anita had reposted
one of her older choreographyvideos from 2012 onto social
media without consent orcompensation.
Livivero argued that herartistic rights had been
violated and demanded damages.
Speaker 1 (20:45):
Argued that her artistic rights had been
violated and demanded damages.
150,000 reais, about $30,000.
That's not just lunch money InBrazil.
It's the kind of figure thatsays choreography isn't just an
afterthought, it's labor,creativity and livelihood.
Speaker 3 (20:56):
The case went before the seventh civil court in Barra
da Tiuca, rio de Janeiro, andthe ruling the judge dismissed
Ribeirero's claim.
Why?
Because she couldn't proveactual harm or that Anita's post
violated her personality rightsin a legally significant way.
Speaker 1 (21:18):
So, unlike Hanagami's four count victory in the US,
ribeirero didn't get a legalencore.
The court basically said nodamages, no infringement that we
can measure, no payout.
Speaker 3 (21:31):
But here's the nuance Brazil's copyright law does
recognize choreography, obrascoográficas and pantomimicas as
protectable works when they'refixed in writing or otherwise.
The law is there, the legalframework exists.
Riviero's case failed notbecause choreography can be
(21:52):
protected, but because proofmatters.
She couldn't show how repostingthat old video caused her
measurable loss or exploited hercreativity in a way the law
recognizes.
Speaker 1 (22:05):
It's a lesson in evidentiary choreography.
Having the moves isn't enough.
You've got to show the steps ofhow the violation hurt you.
Speaker 3 (22:15):
And culturally it was symbolic.
This was one of the firsthigh-profile Brazilian cases to
spotlight choreography in an IPdispute.
It shows that in Latin America,dance creators are starting to
test the waters of copyright law, even if the results are still
mixed.
Speaker 1 (22:34):
So while Ribeiro didn't semba out of court with
the win, she did set the stage.
Future choreographers in Braziland across the region now know
the law recognizes their art.
But the rhythm of proof is justas important as the rhythm of
the music.
Speaker 3 (22:51):
Exactly Protecting choreography in Latin America is
still warming up, but this caseis one more step pun intended
toward dancers claiming theirrightful place in the hype
spotlight.
So, after spinning through allthese cases, what are the five
big steps we can take away aboutchoreography and the law?
Speaker 1 (23:15):
Step one.
Not every dance is protectable.
The law draws a line betweenbuilding blocks and creative
works.
A basic move, a social routineor a gesture alone is like a
single drum beat.
It belongs to everyone.
Protection kicks in when thosebeats become a full composition.
Speaker 3 (23:35):
Originality lives in the arrangement.
What makes choreography legallyspecial isn't the kick, the
turn or the dip by themselves.
It's how those elements arecombined, sequenced and timed to
create something expressive andunique.
That selection and arrangementis the choreography's DNA.
Speaker 1 (23:57):
Step three short can still shine.
Even a few counts of movement,if they carry the essence of a
creator's style, can be treatedas original, just like a
memorable guitar riff or acatchy lyric.
A short routine can pack enoughcreative punch to deserve
protection.
Step four proof matters as muchas creativity.
It's not enough to feel copied.
You need to show the impact.
(24:18):
Was there unauthorized use?
Was there financial gain?
Was your reputation orrecognition diminished?
Without evidence, the casefalls flat, no matter how
brilliant the choreography.
Speaker 3 (24:30):
In step five.
Balance is everything.
The law is constantly trying tofind the sweet spots between
protecting creators and keepingculture moving freely.
Too much protection, and nobodycould dance without asking
permission.
Too little, and choreographerscan't make a living from their
(24:50):
art.
Those are the five moves.
Courts keep circling back toFreedom, originality,
recognition, proof and balance.
Speaker 1 (24:58):
It's a legal choreography of its own and,
just like on any dance floor,knowing the steps makes all the
difference.
Speaker 2 (25:08):
Thank you for listening to Intangiblia, the
podcast of intangible lawplaying.
Talk about intellectualproperty.
Did you like what we talkedtoday?
Please share with your network.
Do you want to learn more aboutintellectual property?
Subscribe now on your favoritepodcast player.
Follow us on Instagram,facebook, linkedin and Twitter.
(25:28):
Visit our websitewwwintangibliacom.
Copyright Leticia Caminero 2020.
All rights reserved.
This podcast is provided forinformation purposes only.
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