Netflix, that titan of streaming, has announced plans to spend $900 million constructing new studios in New Jersey. On its face, this might seem a shrewd business decision. After all, Netflix has built its empire on relentless content production, churning out series and films faster than anyone can watch them. But the question that nags—and should nag—is: why build physical studios at all? Have they not noticed the relentless march of technology, or are they deliberately looking the other way?
Artificial intelligence is rapidly rendering traditional filmmaking methods obsolete. The need for physical sets, actors, and all the expensive machinery of production is about to evaporate. We are living through the twilight of these once-indispensable components of Hollywood’s dominance. With AI developing at a pace that borders on terrifying, it won’t be long before the average citizen—yes, the sort who currently films cat videos and posts TikToks—will have access to tools capable of producing feature-length films that rival or even surpass today’s most polished blockbusters.
Consider this: computers are becoming exponentially more powerful and affordable. Within a decade—likely less—anyone with a mid-range computer could create a cinematic masterpiece by typing a few prompts into an AI program. Imagine it: “Create a two-hour action thriller set in Eastern Europe, à la James Bond, with the protagonist looking and sounding exactly like me.” Out will come a film, flawlessly rendered, indistinguishable from reality, and tailored to every whim of the “creator.” No actors. No directors. No union disputes or multimillion-dollar overheads. Just algorithms doing what they do best: responding to demand with ruthless efficiency.
If this sounds like science fiction, it is only because some still cling to the comforting notion that creative processes require human hands. But that romantic idea is eroding as surely as the credibility of those who insist on clinging to it. Already, millions of people host podcasts; YouTube boasts over 100 million channels. Soon, the masses will not just be content consumers—they will be their own studios, directors, and stars. Why settle for passively watching when you can create your own personalized media universe? An action movie today, a rom-com tomorrow, and an immersive VR video game the next—all with the click of a button.
And on the viewing end, one suspects it won’t be long before we can exercise creative control over the content provided to us. You don’t like the setting of a film? Or the ending? Change it with the click of a button! You want a more diverse cast? Just say the word! You want the actors replaced with icons from the Golden Era of Hollywood? Here you go! No more looking for the next Marilyn Monroe or Audrey Hepburn, we can just recreate them digitally and you won’t notice a difference. Or cast all your high school classmates, or turn your pets into people, whatever you want!
Which brings us back to Netflix. Why, in the face of such obvious technological upheaval, would a company invest in brick-and-mortar production facilities? It reeks of the same short-sighted thinking that led Kodak to scoff at digital cameras or Blockbuster to sneer at streaming. The Netflix model, at least in its current form, is not merely flirting with obsolescence; it is actively marching toward it. Spending millions on physical studios in 2024 feels akin to building a new fleet of steam engines in the age of jet propulsion.
One could argue that Netflix’s move is a hedge, a way to maintain dominance in the traditional content space while dabbling in AI. But hedges are for those who lack conviction. The future is hurtling toward us, and it does not include lumbering studio lots filled with set designers and trailers, or entitled actors making insane amounts of money. It millions—perhaps billions—of individuals creating personalized, on-demand media for themselves and their audiences.
We should be clear-eyed about where this is heading. The role of the giant media conglomerates, with their studios and backlots, is destined to shrink. The creators of tomorrow will be individuals, leveraging AI to make films, shows, games, and even people, that are entirely their own. Studios like Netflix may cling for a while, but their foundations—both literal and figurative—are built on sand. AI will sweep them away, not with malice, but with the cold indifference of progress.
So, Netflix, enjoy your new studios in New Jersey. Build them tall and wide, make them gleam with the promise of productivity. But know this: the future does not belong to you. It belongs to the millions of creators who will soon hold in their own hands the power that once belonged to Hollywood, asking not for permission but for the bandwidth to upload their creations.
