Glen Powell Is Right

Netflix doesn't make movies. It makes content.

Anyone But You, a high-concept rom-com that’s ultimately meh at best, had an opening weekend gross of $6,000,344. That’s a pretty low start and not a great look when combined with the middling reviews, but stunningly, it started to rise week after week, ultimately making $88,319,668 domestically and $131,269,507 overseas.

It kind of just stuck around after its end-of-December release date and incredibly made money into April. This is the kind of movie that Netflix pumps out at a moment’s notice, except with a bigger budget (I mean, they went to Australia), a bit more chemistry and a hell of a press push. There are already rumors for a sequel of some sorts or a brand-new rom-com with the same actors piggybacking off of Anyone But You’s success. It’s the closest thing we’ve had to an early-2000s, late-90s movie phenomenon in quite some time.

Leaving this movie in theaters for buzz to build and people to actually go see it was a brilliant strategy especially when movies now are being dropped onto various streaming services within weeks of being released on the big screen. Challengers came out a month ago and is already streamable. The Fall Guy, which is made to be seen in cinemas, jumped to the small screens after 17 days in theaters. It was given no time for a word-of-mouth wave and just dropped.

The reason I’m writing about Anyone But You now, nearly half a year after this movie dropped, is because of a quote from Glen Powell discussing their release strategy.

We had offers from every streamer, and it was guaranteed [paydays] and a much bigger budget, but Syd and I really have a very similar worldview about Hollywood. We said, ‘If we make this on a streamer, it won’t have any cultural impact.’ And everyone was saying rom-coms were dead theatrically so we knew we could get hosed, but we thought, ‘Let’s take the gamble,’ because what if we could bring them back? —The Hollywood Reporter

That’s a hell of a risk for Sweeney and Powell, both using their respective star power to push this movie over the line, but it certainly worked out. It’s been the undersung hit of the year, especially when movies its size are floundering on the big screen. For many, what’s the point of going if it’s going to be on your television in two-and-a-half weeks?

My problem with the streaming movie is twofold: it makes little-to-no impact or it’s made to be watched while also on your phone.

This may sound like a silly complaint but it’s nice to know how well a movie does. A movie goes into theaters and then we get a box office report and have a clue about how it’s faring. Something goes onto Netflix and gets sucked into the abyss. Maybe it’ll pop up on the always-confounding Top Ten Netflix list, but we’ll never get a number to put next to it or any idea about how it’s doing. Netflix has gone out of its way in the past—part of the reason for last year’s strikes—to not provide any data to its directors, producers and actors. The less anyone knows about how these movies do, the better for Netflix. At its core, it’s not a production company, it’s a tech company that just so happens to focus on movies.

Since studios aren't transparent with streaming data, the pay structure for talent typically doesn't include residuals based on a show's performance. Netflix, for example, classically pays writers and actors up front including an amount similar to what they'd be paid in residuals of a show were a big hit on TV. There's a number of issues with this model. While some have voiced an appreciation for the higher guaranteed rate, others criticize it due to a lack of transparency and for not providing the kind of continual revenue stream they might see from a more traditional payment model. —ScreenRant

As always, it all comes down to one thing: Money. Netflix and its ilk don’t want to pay more than they have to, giving out big contracts with no promise of residuals. It looks good at press release, but once the movie is in the streamers’ hands, they can do whatever they want with it, whether it’s dropping it with little fanfare or even shelving it for a quick tax write-off like WBD has done for Batgirl or Coyote vs. Acme.

The Daily Beast found the perfect quote: “Studios can do pretty much whatever they want with the productions they own. ‘They can set it on fire, or they can launch it everywhere.’” I don’t know about you, but giving corporations any semblance of freedom is not my idea of a good time."

Big-budget “important” (AND GOOD) movies like Marriage Story, May December, Roma, The Irishman and many, many others get algorithmed into nothingness. All this work goes into it and then seconds later, it’s sitting next to Emily in Paris on the digital shelf.

My other big streaming problem is that these movies are designed to be watched while half paying attention. For my money, the worst movie of the year (and many years) is Unfrosted, Jerry Seinfeld’s startingly unfunny and cameo-laden 93-minute ad for pop-tarts.

It’s a perfect movie for Netflix. Every scene is a little vignette or SNL-esque sketch of sorts so you can zone out and tune back in without missing anything, the editing is so quick and instantaneous, so that you feel like there are higher stakes and every time there’s a moment to breathe, you get another cameo so your parents can say, “Oh, I know that guy.” It’s an epidemic and insane that this and Bee Movie are Seinfeld’s passion projects.

By the way, Bee Movie is 17 years old now. If you want to know more, please google “jerry seinfeld 17 year old.”

Although slightly better, another movie that is now in theaters but will soon be on the streamers (this one on Hulu) is Babes starring Ilana Glazer and Michelle Buteau. Which has a similar problem to Unfrosted. Tied together by rubber bands, this is yet another made-for-streaming movie that isn’t just shaggy but barely a movie. I just don’t see the appeal in these mediocre-at-best comedies that thrive on C-tier jokes and a gasp at cultural significance for wide appeal.

Maybe the most disappointing thing of all is that one of Powell’s next movies, the hotly-buzzed Hit Man, will be right on Netflix after a short and very small theatrical run.

“Professional killer Gary Johnson breaks protocol to help a desperate woman trying to flee an abusive husband and finds himself falling for her” is an idea that should be seen in theaters, not while lounging on the couch simultaneously scrolling through TikTok, but a deal’s a deal, I guess. The following from Manuela Lazic at The Ringer puts it perfectly:

Netflix bought the film’s distribution rights at the Toronto International Film Festival following its premiere in Venice in September 2023, and after holding on to it while a peak movie season passed by, will release it on its platform on June 7 (after showing it “in select theaters” on May 24). It’s a crowd-pleasing, clever, sexy comedy, made by the man behind Dazed and Confused, School of Rock, and Boyhood, starring one of Hollywood’s few rising stars. Although very original, it also seems built in a lab to make a lot of money at the box office. Instead, it’ll gasp for air as Netflix’s flavor of the week …

If you miss its short run in cinemas, you’ll have to watch Hit Man from your own little cave, alongside maybe a person or two, with a remote that’ll let you hit pause and snap out of the delightfully concocted fantasy set before you, the shadows on the wall losing their power over your imagination each time. Hit Man perfectly demonstrates that the endless protest of the death of the movie star should instead be a rallying cry for the traditional theatrical release. We deserve to see our fantasies built up, and they deserve—perhaps even need—a true audience, captive and communal. —The Ringer

If a hitman movie starring two potential movie stars, a dynamite director and a big-screen premise can’t last in theaters, we’re honestly in a pretty bleak place. I’m excited to never know how well Hit Man is doing other than an obscure Netflix report, see it on a very vague Top Ten list and then have it disappear into nothingness days after its release. The movies are far from back. Or as Chris Berman might say, “The movies are back, back, back, back... Gone!”