When a private home becomes the centrepiece of a Bad Bunny production, the legal foundations may be just as important as the concrete ones.
Eighty-four-year-old Puerto Rican homeowner Román Carrasco Delgado (“Carrasco”), who says he designed and built his distinctive salmon-coloured home with his brother, filed a lawsuit in Puerto Rico’s Superior Court in September 2025 against several defendants, including Bad Bunny.
Carrasco alleges that the production used his home without proper consent in the 13-minute short film Debí Tirar Más Fotos. The film accompanied Bad Bunny’s album of the same name. He also alleges that the production later inspired a full-scale replica. The artist used the replica during his concert series.
A loss of privacy and emotional distress
Carrasco claims that he has suffered a loss of privacy and emotional distress. He alleges that his once-quiet home now attracts public attention.
Fans now arrive to take photographs and have effectively turned his property into an uninvited tourist attraction. The replica dispute illustrates how the consequences of an alleged unauthorised reproduction can extend far beyond financial loss.
The issues raised in the lawsuit extend beyond Puerto Rico and resonate in jurisdictions such as South Africa. At its core, the dispute raises questions about informed consent for using a private home in a film and a replica. It also raises questions about the fair treatment of a potentially vulnerable party during contracting. In addition, it asks whether reproducing the home for commercial use could amount to copyright infringement.
Contractual validity, consent and crossing creative lines
Carrasco alleges that a location scout requested permission to use his home for the short film. However, the scout did not explain the project or provide a formal proposal. Carrasco contends that, although he consented to filming, he did so without knowing that the production would later replicate the home for a long-term concert series. He further alleges that production staff cleaned and prepared the home for filming. They also took extensive photographs and measurements of the interior and exterior.
Carrasco further alleges that, when the parties formalised the agreement, someone asked him to sign a blank cell phone screen. He claims that the production then applied his electronic signature to two contracts. He could not read those contracts, and nobody explained them to him. Carrasco says that he received payments of $2,400 and $2,800 for the short film. He contends that these amounts were far below the value of the later commercial use of his property. That use included the replica built for Bad Bunny’s long-term concert series.
Carrasco argues that the mere existence of a signature does not establish a binding agreement when a party is illiterate and vulnerable. He also contends that an electronic signature does not remove the requirement for informed consent. This is particularly so when the other party benefits commercially from using the property beyond what the parties agreed.
The principle of sanctity of contract
In South African law, the principle of sanctity of contract is the starting point. Our courts have repeatedly affirmed that parties are generally bound by their agreements. A person who signs a document is presumed to assent to its contents, regardless of whether they have read it. In other words, a signatory is expected to take reasonable steps to understand what they are signing.
That duty is not absolute. A signatory may avoid being bound in certain circumstances. These include situations where the other party made misrepresentations that induced the agreement. However, a party’s failure to foresee or understand the downstream consequences of a contract does not, on its own, amount to misrepresentation. The replica dispute demonstrates how disagreements over consent and understanding can quickly escalate into complex litigation.
South African law does not impose a general duty to explain everything. However, our courts will scrutinise the fairness of the contracting process when one party lacks legal sophistication because of age, illiteracy, or other vulnerabilities. Exploiting that vulnerability can undermine contractual validity.
Ownership, authorship and copyright in buildings
The lawsuit further claims that Carrasco and his brother personally designed and built the house. That detail carries legal significance beyond its sentimental value.
Under South African law, copyright protects original artistic works, and the law expressly includes works of architecture. On that basis, Carrasco’s house would qualify as an artistic work that is eligible for copyright protection. Ordinarily, the author of such a work is the first owner of copyright unless a contract or legal assignment states otherwise. Because Carrasco and his brother designed the house, they are co-authors of the building as an artistic work. They are also the first owners of the copyright that subsists in it.
Copyright ownership grants the right to reproduce, adapt, and publicly display a work. It also grants the right to authorise others to do so. These rights enable owners to control commercial exploitation and prevent unauthorised copying. Primary copyright infringement occurs when someone exercises any of these exclusive rights without permission.
Photographing a publicly visible building is generally lawful in South Africa. However, reconstructing it elsewhere from photographs and measurements may amount to copyright infringement.
Copyright infringement in the lawsuit
Recreating Carrasco’s home in three dimensions could qualify as reproducing an artistic work. If the replica is objectively similar to the original, a court may infer infringement.
South African courts assess infringement qualitatively and focus on what the alleged infringer took rather than how much they took. Therefore, minor changes are unlikely to avoid liability if the recognisable essence of the house remains.
While Carrasco does not currently claim copyright infringement in the lawsuit, it could become a significant issue if the court finds the underlying agreement invalid. This could potentially open the door for Carrasco to obtain an interdict, damages, or a royalty instead of damages. It would also require an account of profits. The replica dispute serves as another reminder that questions of ownership and authorship can become as important as the underlying property itself.
Consent and copyright as non-negotiable foundations
The lesson for South African filmmakers and creatives is clear: contractual consent must be informed and not assumed. Where consent is shaky, the entire structure may collapse.
A signature alone may not be enough if the person signing cannot meaningfully understand the agreement. Furthermore, copyright infringement may also come into play where someone reproduces a personally designed house without permission.
Whether this matter proceeds to judgment or reaches settlement, it serves as a reminder that creative projects require not only ambition but also proper rights clearance and informed consent. Ultimately, the replica dispute highlights the importance of obtaining informed consent. It also highlights the need to secure the necessary intellectual property rights before any creative project moves forward.
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| Nishaat Slamdien | Associate | mail me | | with oversight by John Foster | Partner | mail me | |
| | Spoor & Fisher | | |
