As Hollywood creatives prepare for the merger between Netflix and Warner Bros., an old adage comes to mind – “The medium is the message.” This phrase, coined by Canadian philosopher and media theorist, Marshall McLuhan in the 1960s, warns against new technologies that not only deliver content, but reorganize perception and cultural preferences. The advent of television in the post-World War II world shaped Mr. McLuhan’s views. This was the time when TV sets were finding prominent place in people’s living rooms. This new media was redefining the way people saw and understood the world.
Although the 60s may seem a long time ago, the impression that new forms of technology have left on us still remains. In this sense, the rise of streaming platforms like Netflix demands scrutiny not for what they show us, but for how they quietly reshape the conditions under which culture is produced and consumed.
Recent unrest over Netflix’s growing dominance, including its deep ties to legacy studios like Warner Bros., has reignited concerns about the future of cinema.
While most of the public debate around this merger seems to be focused on the fate of the films in theaters, I think there is a much deeper change going on. And this goes beyond content distribution.
Cinema, for most of its history, was structured around scarcity and collectivity. The films came at fixed times, at specified places and attracted the attention of the assembled audience. This architecture shaped not only the economics of film production but also its aesthetics and social meaning.
The act of going to the movies was communal, ritualistic and public. Streaming removed these barriers. It replaced shared time with on-demand access, public space with private screens, and narrative immersion with perpetual availability.
And a medium that prioritizes convenience, speed, and personalization will inevitably change the way stories are experienced. Too much viewing destroys the momentum of the story; Algorithms turn discovery into predictions; And constant access erodes the sense of anticipation that once framed cultural events.
In this setting, content becomes less of an occasion and more of a background situation – always present, rarely central. This is why Netflix-Studio convergence irks cinema owners and cultural workers alike.
When films are conceived primarily for living rooms and mobile screens, the scale, duration and visual language get adapted accordingly. The medium exerts pressure long before the audience exerts pressure on the play.
This also has a subtle consequence. Streaming platforms encourage solitary consumption. Each audience lives in a personalized catalogue, shaped by data and preference rather than shared cultural urgency. Over time, this fragmented the common reference points that once allowed films to function as a form of public conversation.
What was once collectively encountered became an individually curated experience.
While streaming has clearly expanded reach, diversified storytelling, and weakened cinema’s long-standing gatekeepers, the medium is also excellent at narrowing attention spans and creating viewing circles.
This in turn would erode the social centrality of cinema and take away the notion that stories unfold simultaneously.
This won’t lead to the death of movies, but a quiet reshaping of how the culture fits into daily life. And these are changes we will barely notice. This is because the viewer will remain focused on the doom-scrolling effect of a content catalog curated by an algorithm. And by the time the content gets in front of the audience, the medium has done its job.
Beyond this deal, Netflix’s real legacy will be measured not by subscriber numbers or awards, but by how well it has normalized a new way of consuming media — a way that exchanges collective attention for shared experiences and individual flows for on-demand access.
published – December 19, 2025 08:00 AM IST