The end of December usually brings a flood of major releases and a storm of speculation about the Oscars. But with the Oscar postponement and many cinemas closed or half-empty, this year of cinema ends with a thrill of existential anxiety in Hollywood and beyond. In 2020, Netflix expanded its reach and two of the surviving legacy studios – Warner Bros. and Disney – strengthened their streaming platforms, the latest sign of a change in business strategy that is likely to survive the pandemic. As 2021 approaches, our critics examine the film industry in crisis and wonder what the future holds.
TO SCOTT Is it the end of going to the cinema as we know it? You and I are not in the business of making predictions, and since we are film history students, we know that the death of films is old and false news. Premature obituaries are filed every decade or more, at least since the arrival of the sound. The art form is constantly changing, as are the ways in which we consume it: “as we know it” includes movie palaces, drive-ins, grindhouses and multiplexes; and also the network of Movies of the Week, VHS, Blu-ray and now streaming.
Still, the situation now looks different, perhaps more cataclysmic. I have no doubt that people will want to return to cinemas after the pandemic, as well as to restaurants, nightclubs, concert halls and bowling. But a change in the industry that was already underway before Covid-19 appears to have accelerated. We sometimes use “studios” as a slightly anachronistic synonym for Hollywood. Are we entering the era of “platforms”?
MANOHLA DARGIS Well, good morning, sunshine! I hesitate to offer big guesses, but we know that the cinema, or rather, the American film industry is in a perpetual crisis. In the past, industry has always found a way around the most recent calamities, often taking advantage of (or even absorbing) perceived threats, such as television. The threat posed by streaming is in another order of magnitude: that is, the internet has changed everything, including the way people watch entertainment. The rest is history, and another two zillion dollars for Jeff Bezos.
We talked a lot about how the pandemic accelerated this most recent change, even though the biggest change occurred with the advent of home video. As soon as people could choose what to watch when they wanted to, the old days are over (again). Depending on who you talk to, the films themselves – or at least how the last generation understood what “the films” meant – ended too. I, well, am old enough to remember when Steven Soderbergh made films that opened in theaters. They were events and exciting. I couldn’t wait to see them. Now, he releases a movie on HBO Max and I think, “Huh, I think I should watch this one of these days”.
SCOTT I am glad you mentioned Soderbergh, who has been an attentive observer of the industry, even though he works in almost every corner. For more than three decades, he has made small and medium-sized independent films, large studio franchises, premium cable series, self-distributed passion projects and now direct streaming resources. When some of his colleagues, notably Christopher Nolan, protested the Warner Bros. decision. of releasing his 2021 films simultaneously on HBO Max and in theaters, Soderbergh was more optimistic, seeing a short-term economic solution instead of a tectonic shift in the business. “The theatrical business is not going away,” he told The Daily Beast. “There are a lot of companies that have invested a lot of money in the perspective of releasing a movie that broke out in theaters – there’s nothing like it.”
It is true. There is no better way to earn a billion dollars – or to recover an investment of several hundred million – than to launch a global blockbuster in theaters. And Disney and Warners are likely to continue in this business, along with any other legacy studios that still exist when theaters are sold out again.
But what about small and medium-sized films that depend on the theatrical system to find their audience? They follow a path that begins at festivals like Sundance, Cannes and Toronto, where the enthusiasm of criticism can pique interest early on. Then, they open in some cities, generating word of mouth through commentary and media coverage and eventually – if all goes well – reaching a wider audience and perhaps winning some awards. “Parasite” followed this pattern, as did “Moonlight”, and I don’t know if these films would have the same impact or success if they had depended on a digital release.
DARGIS Neither would have had the same impact if they had avoided cinemas. In the United States, their theatrical distributors provoked them beautifully: “Moonlight” opened in four cinemas and “Parasite” in three, which generated a frenzy. among certain moviegoers and allowed the films to drip, drip, drip into cultural awareness until Oscar night. This slow implementation is completely antithetical to the rag ecosystem of, say, Netflix, which, before you finish with one of its offerings, is driving algorithmically to the next item to be watched.
The life cycle of a streaming movie is different from a program like “The Crown”. When a new season arrives, the PR machine starts all over again. It is as if the show has been reborn. There is a new round of media attention, more analysis and resources. Non-franchised films disappear faster and, at best, can be listed in a streaming guide with 49 other titles. The independent cinema ecosystem has always been incredibly fragile; it’s hard to make them and launch them into a world dominated by Disney. Independent films need to be persuaded in our collective mind. On Netflix, they have just become another leader in platform loss alongside David Fincher.
SCOTT It may seem rude to complain about Netflix – and maybe hypocritical, considering how much comfort and fun he provided during this anxious and confined home year. The company purchased and produced an impressive variety of films, including some that may never have received the green light from the studio. Even with Fincher’s influence and reputation, “Mank” would have been a difficult move – a story about a writer who drinks a lot and meets his deadline, and in black and white no less. But he found a home, alongside “Cuties”, “The Queen’s Gambit”, “Hillbilly Elegy” and 800 indistinguishable Christmas “originals”. Let the algorithm sort them out!
Netflix is selling subscriptions, not tickets. The goal is to provide a wide variety of materials that will make as many people as possible pay a monthly fee to access all of this. HBO Max and Disney + are competing in this field, but isolated films showing in theaters – or, in this case, on demand video platforms – are at a serious disadvantage. An individual ticket costs almost the same as a month of streaming, and that before popcorn or parking.
For cinemas to survive, going to the cinema must be something more than Netflix off-site, which means that the aesthetic and cultural differences between cinema and television need to be articulated again. Going to the cinema cannot be just a negative decision, a choice not to stay at home and broadcast.
DARGIS But what does it mean to have a “home” on Netflix? It’s like saying that a movie found a home in a huge video store, with comedy in this section, action here and porn behind the curtain – but now with algorithms. As critics, we tend to focus on the film as an object that, in some way, is free from viewing conditions. In earlier times, we saw new films in multiplexes with crowds and in smaller screening rooms with colleagues. We watched with defined start and finish times, silenced the announcers and did not pause.
The pandemic reinforced that watching anything at home changes its relationship with the object. I think that’s why I’m not really interested in the differences between film and television. There is a lot of bad TV and a lot of bad movies that look like bad TV. They are festivals of yaks with great minds and emotions, predictable arcs of history and without edges, and their future is safe, as well as box office successes. What worries us are the films that cannot be seen while checking our texts: avant-garde cinema, hard and long documentaries, serious dramas, films in a foreign language, everything that requires attention, patience, time. I am concerned with what is not easy to watch.
SCOTT Like you, I am less concerned with the fate of box office hits – big money always finds a way – than with movies that can be very quiet, very slow, very disturbing or too strange to watch at home. Including some of our 2020 favorites, such as “City Hall”, “Varapau”, “Collective” and “First cow”. Going to the theater can mean stepping out of your comfort zone, exceeding the limits of your own taste. Your television exists safely within these limits and in the literal comfort zone of your living room. Challenging films can easily slide to the end of the line, neglected as unread books on the nightstand or pots of exotic mustard at the bottom of the refrigerator.
DARGIS I mean, yes, box office successes are important because they are essential for the remaining large studios. Part of my concern with the studios is the nostalgia for the good (albeit bad) old days, but I also hope that they will abandon their current business model (ha!), Which focuses on the same big outbursts instead of product differentiation. Not so long ago some of them were in the business of producing and distributing smaller films, the kind that now go straight to HBO Max (and hello again, Mr. Soderbergh). But, yes, I imagine that “Wonder Woman” will survive this year.
But what about films like Kelly Reichardt’s “First Cow”? It opened in four cinemas on March 6 with excellent reviews, a few weeks before the closing of New York and Los Angeles. It landed on VOD in July, before what would happen in pre-pandemic times. A welcome news for anyone who was already inclined to watch a contemplative film about two men and a cow in the 1820s, in which one of the most dramatic scenes involves milk theft. But for a film like this to reach non-moviegoers, it needs time to reach minds that are already distracted, with viruses or not.
The virtual cinema model that emerged during the pandemic was a great idea, but it is not always intuitive to use and certainly not as simple as clicking on an application. What is needed is a complete virtual independent megaplex, something like the independent film version of bookshop.org, an easy-to-use e-commerce site that helps small businesses. The pandemic is not over, and we still have many hours of screening at home before we can return to the cinema.