Tim League Refutes Netflix's Reed Hastings On Movie Theater Innovation
The founder of the Alamo Drafthouse has some issues with Netflix's Hastings saying that the movie business hasn't innovated in the last 30 years.
The following editorial is written by Tim League, co-founder and CEO of the Alamo Drafthouse Cinemas.
Netflix. It seems like every other interview I give asks me about the "threat" of Netflix. I'll be blunt. Netflix doesn't concern me, and I think it is obvious after last week that the cinema industry is of no concern to Netflix either.
We are in very different businesses.
Let me define those businesses.
Netflix is in the business of growing a global customer base by being the best value proposition subscription content platform.
And they are doing a great job. Their portal is stable, intuitive, cheap and delivers plenty of great, new content every month. They also provide a fantastic financial opportunity for both emerging and veteran storytellers. I stand in awe of the audience they have built and the wealth they have amassed in such a short time.
But here's my business: Cinema. Cinemas are in the business of offering an incredible, immersive experience that you simply cannot duplicate at home. Our job is to put on a show and provide a great value proposition for getting out of the house, turning off your phone and enjoying great stories in the best possible environment. At our best, cinemas should also be local community centers with a real, tangible relationship to their surrounding neighborhood.
Last week, Reed Hastings once again dumped on my industry. He summarized the innovation of cinema in the past 30 years by saying, "Well, the popcorn tastes better, but that's about it." While our industry has not shown the vision and truly game-changing innovation of Netflix, Hastings' antagonistic approach to cinema inadvertently exposes an underlying disrespect to the creators and auteurs that drive this entire machine.
Our best and most talented, passionate filmmakers vehemently do not want their films to be viewed first and foremost on a phone, on the train to work, while checking email, while chopping vegetables for the evening meal, on mute with subtitles while rocking a baby to sleep, or while dozing off before bed. The reality is, most Netflix content is being "consumed" in a less-than-ideal environment.
Great filmmakers create content to share their fully realized creations in a cinema with full, rich sound; bright, crisp picture and a respectful audience whose full attention is on the screen. And because of that, when courting filmmakers young and old to create content for their platform, I wish Netflix would consider the relationship with cinemas built by Amazon, Hulu, HBO, Showtime and Epix.
They all believe in cinemas as meaningful partners. They also respect those filmmakers who want meaningful theatrical engagements for their films. They believe in the promotional partnership that successful theatrical engagements can give to word of mouth, awards consideration, brand loyalty and ultimately maximized financial returns.
Amazon, for example, will be at CinemaCon next week building and strengthening their relationship with cinemas instead of tearing it down the week before.
I got into this business because I love movies. I hold the cinematic experience to be sacred, wonderful and these days even therapeutic. I love the shared communal experience and the charged conversations I have after watching a movie in a cinema. I want to forge relationships with companies who truly love movies, too.
I do not believe that cinemas are owed or grandfathered into an exclusive window before movies are offered ostensibly for free on platforms such as Netflix. I contend that cinemas have earned, and must continue to earn, an exclusive window by providing the experience that directors desire as well as providing a significant financial benefit to producers and financiers.
To close, I'll offer my flippant counter, as I was asked specifically to respond to Hastings' remarks of last week. Until a meaningful relationship is forged with cinemas, Netflix is not making "movies." They are instead funding exclusive-access commodities that help grow their subscriber base.
In "Lost in America," Albert Brooks told his wife, after she lost their entire savings at the roulette wheel in Vegas, that she no longer had the right to use the term nest egg.
"Do me a favor," he said. "Don't use the word [nest egg'. You may not use that word. It's off limits to you! Only those in this house who understand nest egg may use it! And don't use any part of it, either. Don't use 'nest.' Don't use 'egg.' You're out in the forest you can point, 'The bird lives in a round stick.' And you have 'things' over easy with toast!"
I, for one, would welcome the dialogue to forge a meaningful partnership for theatrical exhibition and promotion of select Netflix productions, but until we have that, I consider the term "movie" to be their "nest egg."
But even as I pen this probably unjustifiably snarky retort, I will acknowledge some underlying truth to Reed Hastings' words. We do, as an industry, need to invest in innovation. Cinema's primary threat today is not Netflix; it is ourselves. We must continue to maintain high exhibition standards, invest in new sound and picture technology, improve the digital experience for our guests, develop innovative ways to delight our guests and ensure that we live up to our one job – make going to the cinema an amazing experience.
If we do that, we should be able to look back on another thirty years of limited innovation to our core product and say, "Job well done, we didn't screw up what has always been and remains great about the cinema: the show itself."