display
I just can't see it anymore.
I'm tired of scrolling through the oversupply of Netflix, of the far too long evenings with series that hardly stick to anything, of the teasers that jump at me when I move the cursor over them, of the images that appear by themselves set in motion as if they wanted to call out to me “Look at me!
Look at me!".
A similar tiredness has spread in my environment.
Everyone subscribes to Netflix, nobody thinks it's really good.
But only very few think about switching off.
The costs are manageable and there is always something you might want to see.
There are good reasons to take a break and cancel your subscription.
1. Sleep aid instead of entertainment
Since there are currently millions of people looking for entertainment night after night, Netflix is one of the winners of the pandemic.
The number of subscribers worldwide has grown to over 192 million, the company value now exceeds that of Disney.
The resources for the production of outstanding fabrics would therefore be available.
Instead, Netflix prefers to see that the shelves are full.
The viewers are bombarded with an overabundance of content, but much of it is only good as a digital sandman.
"The Queen's Gambit"?
Slick equipped, great main character, but narrative a pretty tough mush.
display
"The Witcher"?
A bad rip-off of "Game of Thrones" with a costume like on a medieval market in Saxony-Anhalt.
"Better Call Saul"?
An offshoot of “Breaking Bad”, where you waited half a season for it to really start.
And then gave up.
The children of the eighties grew up with the media-critical slogan: "We are having fun to death".
For Netflix today it would have to be: "We
're
going to sleep
deeply
".
2. Transparent tricks, cumbersome dialogues
Netflix has perfected its methods of keeping viewers engaged.
It starts with the fact that in-house productions are often mercilessly drawn out and continued indefinitely.
The first season of the German-language mystery series "Dark" - supposedly the best Netflix series of all time - has ten episodes, but the plot could easily have been put into six episodes.
The rest of the time is filled with ominous drone rides over forests, which are underlaid with atmospheric music.
The weary viewer only has to reach for the cell phone.
The dialogues in "The Crown" are often as lengthy as the sermons of the Archbishop of Canterbury, which seems to serve mainly to get another episode full.
The four seasons of the series about the British royal family each have ten episodes of 60 minutes each.
In these 40 hours you could bake plenty of scones for the royal clan and read Hilary Mantel's Tudor trilogy.
3. Chronic underload
display
Netflix has conquered its market position with blockbusters like “Narcos”, “House of Cards” and “Stranger Things”.
But the boldness and the tension of these series
has given way to a feel-good program that consistently does not challenge the viewer.
Mediocrity has triumphed.
You don't choose what could shake you up or inspire you, but rather what bores you the least.
The comedian Judah Friedlander compared Netflix with a huge garbage dump on the outskirts: "You drive past it and think there has to be something useful in there." There is hardly any big cinema in it, but neither is there any happy trash like the C-Movies, which used to be in the back corners of video stores.
Most of what you watch on Netflix has been forgotten by the time the credits roll.
4. Series like from the All-You-Can-Eat-Buffet
Instead of continuing to rely on blockbuster productions with star cast, which are often associated with tough contract negotiations with filmmakers, authors, actors and their agents, the range has expanded.
Neflix is the all-you-can-eat buffet among streaming services.
There is something for everyone, and everyone can take as much as they want: teenagers and working moms, gays and people of color, goths and foodies, hillbillies and neo-pagans.
display
Almost every target group and sub-target group will find their heroes at Netflix - but also their niche in which they can make themselves comfortable without being confronted with uncomfortable content.
The algorithm-optimized target group approach creates strangely sterile and backdrop-like worlds like the crowd favorite “Emily in Paris”, whose image of France is an insult to anyone who has ever eaten a croissant.
I don't even want to begin with what is running as a documentary on Netflix, but which would have deserved the name “Reality Fiction”.
True crime sagas like “The Yorkshire Ripper” and freak shows like “Tiger King” are not aimed at any rudimentary form of knowledge, but rather at squeezing reality into an entertainment format.
5. Exploitation for the filter bubble
Currently one of the most watched formats on Netflix: Bridgerton
Source: Liam Daniel / Netflix
Basically, such edifying content represents a new form of exploitation cinema: A sensible script is of secondary importance as long as a format provides the right key stimuli and provides material for small talk.
Otherwise one doesn't seem to be picky about Netflix, the content often seems hastily cobbled together.
The main thing is a lot, the main thing is fast
The American comedy show “Saturday Night Live” processed this type of material development in a sketch: A woman starts a pitch with the words “Well, it's about a girl named Jimmy…”, whereupon the budget officer yells: “Yes !
Here is the money!
Come on, start shooting! "
The recently started costume drama "Bridgerton", which had one of the most successful series starts in Netflix history and is traded as a contemporary version of Jane Austen's "Sense and Sensibility" because of its diverse cast, has little more to offer than narrative orgies Level of a dime novel.
The plot about debutante balls in London's high society is so thin that it dawns on the first episode.
A powerful and poetic drama like “I May Destroy You”, a co-production by HBO and the BBC, in which Michaela Coel, as director, writer, producer and leading actress, all treats the consequences of rape in nightlife, is difficult to imagine on Netflix.
Instead, there is filter bubble television like at the weddings of the Rosamunde Pilcher films.
6. Filmmakers as content providers
Anyone who understands films not only as a pastime but as an art form is in the wrong place with Netflix.
Filmmakers are reduced to replaceable content providers.
At Netflix, even an exceptional director like David Fincher manages to cut beautiful black and white pictures without using a noteworthy script - of all things in the film "Mank" about the legendary screenwriter of "Citizen Kane".
Those who haven't made a big name for themselves remain as good as invisible.
Ben Wheatley, for example, is one of the most interesting British filmmakers of his generation, he has made films that are worth seeing, albeit difficult to digest, such as "The Kill List".
On the homepage of his Netflix remake of Daphne du Maurier's horror novel "Rebecca", you have to scroll all the way down to find out his name.
Lily James in "Rebecca"
Source: Kerry Brown / Netflix
7. Cultural context?
Nothing!
display
The world of fiction is a system whose appeal also lies in playing with references and cross-references.
But Netflix offers no context or additional information, just a few meaningless attributes that are supposed to describe a basic mood, from "exciting" to "heartwarming", from "dark" to "lavish".
The arthouse portal Mubi provides complete filmographies of the staff and cast for each title in its range, as well as reviews and ratings from film journalists and fans, which are not always positive.
Netflix, on the other hand, is a criticism-free zone, a closed system that only refers to its own content pool.
After more than five years with Netflix, there is time for me for a
digital detox
.
Let's see if I miss something.
This text is from WELT AM SONNTAG.
We are happy to deliver them to your home on a regular basis.
Our podcast THE REAL WORD is about the important big and small questions in life: What do breast selfies have to do with feminism? How does the long-term relationship stay happy? And what can you learn from the TV bachelorette? Subscribe to the podcast on
Spotify
,
Deezer
,
iTunes
or
Google Podcasts
or subscribe to us directly via
RSS feed
.
Here you can listen to our WELT podcasts
We use the player from the provider Podigee for our WELT podcasts.
We need your consent so that you can see the podcast player and to interact with or display content from Podigee and other social networks.
Activate social networks
I consent to content from social networks being displayed to me.
This allows personal data to be transmitted to third party providers.
This may require the storage of cookies on your device.
More information can be found here.