By Alex Low
Glenn Carstens-Peters/Unsplash.
When Disney completed its acquisition of 21st Century Fox in 2017, the deal was sold as a necessary step for meeting the growing demand for diverse and accessible entertainment. CEO Bob Iger promised that absorbing Fox’s portfolio would deliver “more compelling, accessible, and convenient” experiences.
What followed, however, wasn’t a creative boom but a regression: dwindling performance, narrower visions, and a streaming strategy focused more on volume and brand maintenance than ambition. Nearly a decade later, Hollywood stands once again on the edge of consolidation’s abyss. With Netflix now circling Warner Bros., the industry faces another merger pitched as progress and another threat to the system that once defined American moviemaking.
Entertainment Ecosystem
Mergers and acquisitions are nothing new in Hollywood, but today’s wave is driven less by creativity and more by corporate strategy. Take MGM, once a major player, now reduced to a mere asset in Amazon’s vast empire, fueling Prime Video’s content machine. This shift has led to the “contentification” of film and TV, with shows designed less for artistic impact and more to maintain streaming subscriptions.
Netflix, for instance, prioritises easy-to-digest programming that can be consumed passively, with a signature “Netflix Look” that favours uniformity over innovation. What’s disappearing in this race for volume is the diversity of voices, styles, and stories that once defined the medium.
Photo: HBO Max/Warner Bros.
While streaming services often lean toward volume over quality, there are moments that hint at an outlook reminiscent of old Hollywood. Amid the rush for content, the world’s largest streamer has attracted directors like David Fincher and Martin Scorsese, offering them creative freedom that contrasts with the typical studio model.
HBO Max, too, gave Zack Snyder’s Justice League a new lease of life after studio interference marred its initial release. Platforms like MUBI and the Criterion Channel stand out by curating historically significant films, making cinematic gems accessible with ease. These glimpses show that, despite the dominance of content-driven strategies, there’s still room for artistry.
What’s The End Game?
Shutter Speed/Unsplash
The real question, however, is how long this can last. While streaming services have positioned themselves as champions of cinema and auteurs, offering platforms for directors to realise their visions, their efforts often feel like part of a larger battle to outpace legacy studios. Netflix and Apple TV have waged their own Oscars campaigns over the years, with Apple TV’s CODA even taking home the Academy Award for Best Picture just a few years ago.
But what happens when these services start buying up their competitors, consolidating the market even further? Without true competition, the incentive to innovate begins to fade, and what was once touted as a creative renaissance could quickly become just another cycle of corporate consolidation, with the same risks that have always followed.
CODA, Netflix.
Streaming services, for all their promises, have a troubling history of abandoning projects — even auteurs aren’t safe. David Fincher’s Mindhunter, despite critical acclaim, was axed after two seasons. Netflix’s broader war on media preservation, from dismissing physical media to rejecting a traditional theatrical window, feels like a losing battle for filmmakers and movie lovers alike.
And as platforms like HBO Max and Disney+ offer botched or censored versions of iconic shows — Mad Men, The Simpsons — it’s clear that the future of media is being shaped by convenience, not creativity. With competition fading and the focus on profit over preservation, the future of entertainment seems less about artistic innovation and more about maintaining an ever-growing, disposable content machine.
