Let's Get Physical!
Why I think you should purchase more DVD's
As you may or may not know, I have decided to release my work on physical media. If you want to read more about how I got to this point, I will include some links to other articles below. In the simplest terms, I have decided that my audience is online, but they are not online. As a filmmaker and artist, I have realized that I get the most joy out of a theatrical screening of my work, and when that’s not possible, I love handing a physical copy of my film to a new viewer. When considering how this platform would work, I went back to why I make movies.
One of my first memories of a movie came from my Aunt Debbie. We would spend weekends together, and she introduced me to music considered “oldies,” as well as taking me to my first movie theater to watch From Dusk till Dawn by Robert Rodriguez. If you haven’t seen this film, let’s just say it’s not for a 7-year-old. Nonetheless, we went because I had heard about it at school and really wanted to see what it was all about. The flickering light captivated me, and I spent most of my childhood escaping reality by living someone else’s through a motion picture. Most of these experiences would come from Blockbuster. My dad took me to the movie store every weekend I would stay with him, and we would pick a new release as well as a 99-cent favorite. I learned so much about the world from these films, all from the VCR in my bedroom.
In recent years, we've witnessed monumental shifts in both the entertainment industry and how we consume it. Everything is content now. Streaming continues to pull people away from theaters and remaining rental stores, while driving more content than art. I assume most people are okay with the ease of streaming, but I have realized, both as a consumer and an artist, that streaming is slowly driving people away from finding new art. As a starting point, Netflix usually operates with 4,000 titles, whereas Blockbuster would average around 10,000 individual titles.
Parrot Analytics reports that approximately 25% of the top shows on Netflix are originals produced in-house. As this continues to rise, will there be a reason to promote non-originals?
Streaming services have fundamentally changed both the economics of film distribution and the way films are told. In the 1990s, VHS and DVD dominated home viewing, and filmmakers earned money through physical sales, rentals, and sometimes through the advertising revenue generated by networks airing their films. This model gave artists financial freedom, as physical media allowed them to profit from each unit sold or rented, often over a period of years as movies were continuously available for purchase or viewing.
With the rise of streaming, however, much of the financial model shifted. Subscription-based platforms like Netflix, Amazon Prime, and Hulu have replaced physical sales and rentals as the primary way films and shows reach their audience. The focus of revenue generation is less on individual sales and more on attracting and maintaining subscriptions. The streaming model also allows for more experimentation with narrative structures, as platforms encourage creators to push boundaries in order to stand out in an oversaturated market.
Streaming seems to have led to longer runtimes and more intricate storytelling, but it has also led to rushed pacing and binge-watching. This is a double-edged sword: while some films or shows can benefit from such engagement tactics, others may suffer from sacrificing depth or meaningful story arcs. Do the films have longer runtimes to engage our imagination, or are they longer simply to take up time on another platform?
As of writing, Netflix has 282.7 million subscribers with a current monthly, ad-free rate of $15.49. From my research, Netflix does not profit-share with its filmmakers, nor does it share the view counts that the films generate while on the platform. This specific element has made me think a lot about the power of physical media and how to continue making money off your work as time passes.
Let’s flashback to the 1990s, when VHS and DVD allowed filmmakers to profit over a long-term period. You would purchase a copy of the film and continue to watch it for as long as you chose. While this model was also fraught with “Hollywood math,” streaming platforms have created a more instantaneous and disposable viewing culture with no transparency. Unlike physical media, where you could own a movie forever, streaming is based on a license to watch. When a company loses the license, or goes under, then you lose your film. Anyone remember Ultraviolet? You used to get a free streaming copy with most films in the mid-2000s, all of which are now gone unless you kept hold of the disc. You simply do not own the film or show itself; you are paying for the right to access it as long as it remains on the platform.
This lack of ownership is a key reason why I advocate for physical media. Physical copies are immune to the whims of a streaming platform’s catalog or algorithm changes. Moreover, for those who cherish the art of filmmaking, owning a physical copy can be a way to preserve a piece of cinema history that digital streams cannot provide.
An argument for physical media is more compelling than ever, as it represents both a direct and sustainable way to support filmmakers. This is exactly why I have decided on Bronson Creative being an option for those who are looking to distribute their work beyond the whims of streaming algorithms. Physical copies ensure that a filmmaker’s work is available for as long as you, the consumer, choose to keep it. This is why I have chosen physical media for my films moving forward, and I hope you will join me. While I have had multiple distribution deals on Tubi, Amazon, Apple, and more, I have yet to make any money from my work. Work that I spent decades bringing to life. Work that artists like myself believed in and put our own money into, and there are plenty more just like me out there.
If you truly enjoy art, then I urge you to purchase physical copies. CDs, vinyl, DVDs, Blu-rays—all of which sound and look better than their streaming counterparts. Also, the quality of a DVD is not as bad as you may recall, especially if you consider buffering issues and artifacts that come with streaming. In an effort to make resolution even higher, I have removed special features from the discs and put them online. I am not against online streaming, but I do not see a way for artists who want to work outside of the system to make their way in this landscape.
In an era where “content” is king, let’s make cinema the queen. The gap between the executives and the creators who build these machines has never been wider. As the landscape continues to change, it's up to both consumers and creators to advocate for a fairer, more transparent entertainment industry. Without this, the rise of streaming could leave countless talented voices behind. The recent writers' and actors' strikes in Los Angeles spotlighted these exact issues. Despite Netflix's astronomical revenue from successful series like Squid Game (estimated at $900 million), no profits are equitably distributed. If you haven’t seen the interview with the creator of Squid Game talking about why he took the second season, it’s definitely worth a watch. Spoiler alert: it’s because he needed money.
It's crucial for audiences and creators alike to recognize the long-term effects this disparity could have on art. The collapse of traditional media isn't just about shifting platforms—it's also about rethinking how we value and compensate the individuals behind the content we love.
I thank you all for your continued support of what I do. Without it, I would be creating in a void. I hope you have a wonderful end of the year, and I urge you to pay for the art you love. Without it, we will all be at the whims of streamers that only care about us staring into the algorithm.
-Jerry-
Check out www.bronsoncreative.us to buy a copy of my film on physical media. Shipping now!