Netflix and the Future of Entertainment

It’s been said for a long time now that Netflix is leading the future of entertainment.  Many people saw it years ago when they were taking business from Blockbuster Entertainment and other video stores, and amazingly, they did nothing to counter this.  Despite the fact that Netflix’s model was working better than theirs, the heads of Blockbuster ignored these obvious signs and continued their business as usual rather than adjusting and evolving.  This was due in large part to ego.  I know because I’ve talked with someone who served as president for a time at Blockbuster and left because he saw that no one would even consider changing tactics.  When he pointed this out, they ignored him and kept their ship driving right into the iceberg.

            Now Netflix is continuing their innovative efforts in competition with regular television.  What’s amazing is how little these networks have learned from Blockbuster.  They believe that, because they are the big guys on the block today, they are destined to always be that way.

            To be sure, they are adjusting in some ways, but usually they are the wrong ways.  CBS is beginning a subscription service that will be led by their Star Trek series in which viewers will have to pay to watch.  However, viewers aren’t going to see any reason to pay for this television service that they are getting for free with other shows unless CBS offers something more.  Of course, they’ll have some shows that they know audiences will want on the subscription channel, but that’s not enough.

            What’s caused viewers to turn to Netflix is that their programming has been more interesting and innovative than network TV.  Rather than following tired formulas and using outdated methods, they have created new ways of telling stories both artistically and technically.

            Artistically, they tell stories in unique fashions and they make sure the entire show is aired so the whole story is there.  What I mean by unique fashions is that they do not limit their writers to specific formula patterns.  On television, you have five acts broken up by commercials.  Every show has to follow those acts, and executives will require that producers break down their scripts into these acts to prove it.  Netflix makes no such requirement, and thus the stories are more interesting.

This is further improved by the fact that they don’t make pilots, see how they go, then just a few episodes and see how they go before making entire seasons.  Networks do this all the time, and it makes for very broken up storylines.  Worst yet, they will cancel a show if it’s not doing well.  This may save them money in the short run, but it destroys trust in the viewer, who decides not to watch the next show.

Many people will not waste their time on a network show because that show may be cancelled next week.  There’s no point in wasting the time getting invested.  But with Netflix, you know that if you try a show out, they’ll at least get through a season, so there will be some semblance of a story.

Basically, think of it like this.  If you buy a book, would you rather get one that the author is still writing and might not finish, or would you rather get one that you know has been finished, and may even go on to more books?

Unless the networks wake up, they’re going to go the way of Blockbuster.

Tales of a Failed Filmmaker: Stranded in Park City

I was traipsing through the fresh snow of Park City, heading through the darkness and drifting snowflakes toward my car in the parking lot.  It was the middle of the night, and the snow had been falling since 10.

I had seen it when it started.  From outside a club along the main street of town, the tiny white dots dancing toward the ground highlighted in the glow of the old fashioned lamp posts.  The white sheen of the streets got trapped by the walls of the quaint buildings, creating an all-too-perfect glow, like a painting of small town America.  Next to me, someone posted the results of the winners of the festival.  At the top was someone named Morgan Spurlock for a documentary called Supersize Me.  It didn't seem important at the time in January, 2004, but in retrospect I realize I was the first person in the world to learn that this groundbreaking film had been the winner at the festival.

I had been invited to the club by two women with whom I had shared a shuttle bus.  I shouldn't have been surprised that they didn't show up, though I later found that I had probably gone to the wrong club.  It was just as well.  I needed to head back to LA, and I had only enough money to pay for the gas to get me there.  I had a check waiting for me at home, but my ex-girlfriend, who had not yet left my apartment even after more than two months after breaking up with me, refused to help out by depositing it.

I had risked everything to go to Sundance.  I didn't have a film in the festival, but I did have a movie being developed.  We had met with a bunch of well-known actors, and Martin Sheen had offered to be a part of it.  I just needed investors, and Sundance was a way to get to these investors and production companies without being blocked by what I called the red velvet rope.

I had made some important connections, and now I just needed to get back to Burbank with them.  The snow was starting to come down hard now, and I needed to get off the mountain before I got blocked in.

That's why I was so horrified to see a tow truck with a small white lump on its back, my car, driving out of the parking lot.  I screamed in panic as I chased after, cutting across a nearby lawn to try to cut it off.  Much to my surprise, there was a hidden dip into which I suddenly sank up to my chest.  Stuck, I tried to push forward anyway.  But I could do nothing but helplessly watch my car be carried away into the darkness.

I was helpless, alone, more than half buried in the snow in the darkness of the middle of the night.  I was lower than the lowest point.  This is where a lifetime of trying to make it in the entertainment industry had led me.  Hundreds of miles from home without a car, no way to get to it, and not enough money to get it out and drive it home even if I did.

As I floated there in the snow in shock and hopelessness, my mind began to wonder how I had gotten there.  What choices had I made that brought me to this point that was lower than I expected life could ever get?

I will be exploring these choices, and my experiences, in this blog.  Whenever the title begins with "Tales of a Failed Filmmaker" I will be telling these stories from a journey of 25  years of trying to make it in the film industry, and failing.

I'm beginning this story now because this month, (in fact, this day,) marks the 20th anniversary of my arrival in Los Angeles.  I will not be telling this story in order; it would take too long to get to more recent tales, and I know I'll be remembering things out of order along the way.  So each story will be from a different point in time, and I'll do my best to explain the dates where I remember them.