Digital Dogmatism: Data collection and the way we watch films.
In the age of the digital, of instant access and interconnectedness, data has become the most coveted of resources; a numerical zircon, more valuable than gold, oil and, for now, even water. By sifting through petabytes of private data, big tech companies and political campaigns around the world are able to targeting audiences with personalised advertising; promoting everything from beauty products to propaganda. I see its effect most when I’m ambling through Netflix’s vast catalogue. Nudged by its sophisticated digital architecture, I vacuously browse recommended content at the behest of its dogmatic data collection.
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Ostensibly, the collection of audiences’ data is harmless; a simple way of understanding the demand to provide the supply. But in light of recent events, the closing of cinemas due to COVID-19, the recent box office successes of movies released straight to streaming in lieu of a theatrical run and the supposed “death of cinema”, I believe it is prudent to reconsider the implications of data collection through streaming services and its potentially detrimental impacts on audience agency, audience engagement and the authorship of the content itself.
For every click of the play button, an event is made that informs Netflix’s algorithm about the viewers participation; what they watch, when they watch it, what they watch it on and creates recommendations based off these insights.¹ This “algorithmic determinism”, obfuscates their view of the myriad sea of diverse and challenging content, whilst offering only the flotsam of the familiar. This was a key reason why Lulu Wang rejected an unidentified streaming service’s “double offer” to produce her movie, The Farewell (2019). Wang explained that the platform “[w]ouldn’t have the energy to put behind” a newer filmmaker when they already “have so many esteemed, established directors.”² Data collected even determines the creation of content itself. For example, Netflix’s House of Cards was the result of a correlation the company noticed between viewers of the original BBC series who also watched David Fincher movies and movies starring Kevin Spacey.³ Although seeking to understand audiences is nothing new, the calculated precision of data collection effaces the psychology and character of the viewer. Moreover, it doesn’t incentivise Netflix to take risks on projects that exhibit real artistic expression, opting instead for safer, formulaic ideas to appease the data-dogma. Ultimately, this lulls its audience into becoming apathetic somnambulists pacified by, and complacent with, familiar material.
Though these may sound like the ramblings of a polarising tech-skeptic, I confess I use streaming services often; it’s the most effective way to access thousands of movies and TV series. Yet I do so with an acute concern. Technology scatters our attention. We lose focus of the content we watch online because it is vitiated by the medium and it’s “rapid fire delivery of competing messages and stimuli.”⁴ The net, including streaming services, is inextricably linked to our neuroplasticity and ability to concentrate. Studies show that by using the net we enter an environment that encourages superficial viewing and distracted thinking.⁵ When streaming a film at home, my immersion is interrupted by the light reflecting off the walls, my housemates cooking or a knock on the door. There is amazing content on Netflix, The Irishman (2019), Marriage Story (2019) and Uncut Gems (2019) to name a recent few, but the reception context demarcates our participation with it.
As consumers flock to streaming services during COVID-19, evangelical cinephiles are once again bemoaning the death of cinema. However, despite the purists’ claims (which have been consistently propounded for decades), I believe this is not the case. While the success of The Invisible Man (2020), and Trolls 2: World Tour (2020), has some studios wondering if they should bother with theatrical releases at all, others are willing to wait for cinemas to reopen; Disney’s live action adaptation of Mulan and MGM’s latest Bond flick, No Time to Die. My concern is that streaming services may engender complacency in their audiences. Further, I worry for the films; the undiscovered masterpieces that could get buried at the behest of an algorithm’s better judgement. The personal taste, character and psychology of a viewer cannot be quantified in ones and zeroes, and the films that may really challenge and inspire them should not fall victim to algorithmic determinism.
The digital age is an exciting frontier filled with possibilities to connect and empower. But, we must pay scrupulous attention to the way technology collects our data and effects our autonomy, lest the artist and audience become the company and consumer. I look forward to the future of cinemas in Victoria and once again embracing the mystical potential of film. As film critic David Thomson observes, “[d]oubts can be rendered feeble in the face of the certainty of the medium.”⁶
- The Netflix Effect: Technology and Entertainment in the 21st Century, edited by Kevin McDonald, and Daniel Smith-Rowsey, Bloomsbury Academic & Professional, 2016. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/unimelb/detail.action?docID=4542879. 53
- Lulu Wang interviewed by The Hollywood Reporter, December 24 2019, https:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=7XkP0hRhhWM
- Leonard Andrew, How Netflix is Turning Us Into Puppets, February 1, 2013, accessed on May 13, 2020, https://www.salon.com/2013/02/01/how_netflix_is_turning_viewers_into_puppets/
- Nicholas Carr, The Shallows: How the internet is changing the was we think and remember, (New York, WW Norton & Co, June 1, 2018), 118.
- Carr, The Shallows, 115–116.
- Thomson David, Have You Seen?: A Personal Introduction to 1,000 Film, (New York: Knopf, 2008), 149.
