I have watched a lot of movies on Netflix recently, but none
of the type I used to. Before Netflix spent ten gazillion dollars on content
and began releasing three new movies per week, I primarily used it as a way to
watch older titles, and as one of a couple alternatives for receiving a steady
flow of new releases, particularly independent films. It was fun to go on the
site and never know what new movie I’d heard of discussed on film podcasts a
couple months ago might suddenly be available. It was especially handy as the
clock on the calendar was winding down to December and January, and my year-end
rankings were due in only a few weeks.
But lately, all the movies I’ve watched have been the ones that are available only on Netflix. In 2017 alone that list includes (in
alphabetical order) The Babysitter, The Discovery, Gerald’s Game, Girlfriend’s
Day, I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore, The Meyerowitz Stories (New
and Collected), Okja, Tramps and War Machine. There may be one or two others.
There was a time when I could count on one hand the number of Netflix originals
I let onto my year-end list; this year,
it will take three hands or more. And to show you how quickly this whole thing
has moved – as everything does with Netflix – last year was only the first year I had any movies on my list that
existed only on Netflix. (I even remember the first: Hush.)
This past weekend I thought I finally had a movie that
represented the way I always used to use the service, for recently released theatrical independents debuting on streaming: The Bad Batch. Ana Lily
Amirpour’s follow-up to A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (which would make a
good companion piece to I Don’t Feel at Home in This World anymore in terms of
lengthy titles) played theaters – I knew that for sure. I figured
that then, in an unrelated deal, Netflix secured rights to show it on the
service, rights that might have simultaneously gone to the likes of Hulu,
Amazon, or Stan here in Australia.
But nope. As I started watching the movie, there was that banner
“A Netflix original film” right at the start.
Netflix kind of seems to have forgotten the original usage
of the word “original.”
What happened in the case of The Bad Batch is only slightly
different than most of Netflix' more traditional scenarios, which is either to commission
a film entirely from scratch or to acquire it at a festival before it has any
other affiliations or distributors. It appears that Netflix only bought the
SVOD (Subscription Video on Demand) rights to the film, while theatrical went
to first Screen Media Films, but then ultimately into Neon. (I won’t even get
into that part of it, the exchange of distribution rights from one company to
the other, but I have to figure that’s something that happens from time to
time.)
I guess having the sole right to stream the movie also
confers the right to put your name in the credits?
I have to figure that Netflix, bent on world domination as
it is, makes the ability to slap its name all over a movie a precondition to
becoming involved with it at all.
I suppose there are still a few comparatively new releases
that Netflix cannot claim any creative involvement in, such as Rogue One: A
Star Wars Story. However, I almost wouldn’t be surprised if I cued that up one
night -- and I’m tempted to even if I didn’t like it, just to see if I missed
something – and found that Netflix had wormed its way into the opening credits
on that one too. “Disney, Lucasfilm and most importantly, Netflix presents … A
long time ago, in a galaxy far far away …”
Stop blurring the lines, Netflix. I like my lines clear and
with defined edges.
Oh, and The Bad Batch? Damn, that sure is a vapid and pointless film for
something that looks so good.
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