by Carlo Cavagna
“Take risks, push boundaries, explore the uncomfortable.
Dare to fail in order to achieve.”
This was the challenge issued last Sunday by Richard Gadd, accepting awards for his Netflix series Baby Reindeer. “I know the industry is in a slump right now…but I do believe no slump was ever broken without willingness to take risks,” Gadd said. “If Baby Reindeer has proved anything, it’s that there’s no set formula to this. You don’t need big stars, proven IP, long-running series, catch-all storytelling to have a hit.” Netflix Co-CEO Ted Sarandos struck a similar theme less than two days later at the Royal Television Society’s London Convention (Hollywood Reporter). He argued that successful content is more art than science. “Algorithms can’t reverse-engineer success,” Sarandos said.
The current industry slump appears to be caused by the collapsing theatrical and cable television markets. Yes, box office results were healthy last year, but looking more closely at the numbers, Barbie and Oppenheimer made up 10 percent of all U.S. ticket sales (Hollywood Reporter) while supposedly safer franchise movies struggled. Extremely well compensated executives have responded by slashing costs to shore up share prices and facilitate mergers. They have cut content production (or more accurately, failed to ramp it up fully after the strikes), even in some cases shelving completed films like Batgirl because the write-off is worth more than the projected revenues. Meanwhile they continue hiking streaming prices, but how many people can afford to subscribe to multiple streaming services now? According to Forbes, the average household has less than 3 subscriptions, and 45% have canceled one within the last year because of high costs. I subscribe to nine (Amazon, Apple, Britbox, Disney, Hulu, Max, Netflix, Paramount+, Peacock), which was sustainable only when I paid an average of $10 a month for each. There isn’t enough room in the market for them all—more consolidation is coming.
Yet I’m not too worried. The industry must change—it has always been too slow to adapt to shifting consumption patterns—but it is founded on something timeless and universal: storytelling. People may engage with narrative content differently now, but there is no diminished interest in storytelling, as Sarandos argued in London. Nor will there ever be. I know this because storytelling has been an integral feature of the human experience since before recorded history began. Formats may change, but our desire to connect to one another and share experiences via stories will persist.
Although most stories share common architectural elements, as we teach at PageCraft, the most successful ones are the ones that surprise us in some way. They are the ones that show us something we haven’t seen before. For example, they might have a unique vision, a startling point of view, a reality we haven’t considered or experienced, or an unusual protagonist with whom we unexpectedly relate. Their creators think about their audience. What will cause us to invest in the narrative? Why should we be interested at all? If a film or TV series shows us something we have seen many times before, answering this question becomes exponentially harder.
If you look at the top grossing films of all time and then adjust for inflation, sequels fall down the list—none appear in the top ten. In Variety’s 2023 list of the greatest TV shows of all time, only one of the top ten was based on existing IP. This was Roots, based on a bestselling novel, and of course it was groundbreaking and seen as risky nonetheless because of its subject matter. ABC was not at all certain of its success, engineering a broadcast schedule that intentionally avoided sweeps week. Around the same time, George Lucas couldn’t get the original Star Wars movie made by any studio until he waived most of his producer’s fee (but famously keeping the merchandising rights). The most successful films and series are often a big gamble in some way.
The lesson is that the most resonant stories are often the most surprising ones. This lesson applies to genre and franchise content as well. Why did the first John Wick succeed when countless other action thrillers that followed the same formula failed? Because it created a minutely realized alternate universe we hadn’t seen before, dropped a protagonist into it with whom we would instantly relate, and developed a unique choreographic vision for its wall-to-wall action sequences. Even if you’re making content within a hugely successful franchise, it isn’t enough to defer to an established overall vision. James Gunn amped up the fun absurdity in the Marvel-verse with Guardians of the Galaxy and is doing so again in the DC Extended Universe (The Suicide Squad, The Peacemaker).
Similarly, Disney has been struggling with engaging Star Wars content of late, with Ahsoka underwhelming audiences and The Acolyte getting cancelled before wrapping its tale. Yet Andor was a home run with critics and fans. Why? Because it had a radically different take on the Star Wars universe, using it to ask questions about what makes people rebel against authoritarian oppression. Written largely by Beau Willimon (House of Cards) and showrunner Tony Gilroy (Michael Clayton), it’s a slow-burn political thriller geared to adults. There isn’t a single instance of Force magic in it, and that is definitely a risk for a Star Wars series. You can’t expect to just slap a Star Wars label on something and have it be successful. Audiences get jaded and tired. You have to have a unique take, and bring it to life with passion.
Unfortunately, the more unusual or unexpected a story concept is, the more difficult it becomes to project its financial performance. But of course, studios are a business. When any business invests tens or even hundreds of millions of dollars in a product, it is natural to want to mitigate risk. You might even argue that it would be insane not to. As Richard Gadd alluded, studios limit their downside by seeking a high floor—making sure that even if the project fails, there is enough built-in interest to ensure some level of revenue. They do this by betting on proven IP with an existing fan base and involving known quantities (e.g., actors, directors) who have had other successes.
So what should studios do instead? First they must acknowledge that creativity and risk mitigation are antithetical to one another. Making iconic content sometimes requires putting natural business instincts to the side and empowering creative storytellers to pursue unique visions. I’m not arguing that studios shouldn’t be financially responsible. When Peter Jackson insisted on a massive 26-ton fiberglass tree with 200,000 individually wired and hand-painted silk leaves that was onscreen for a few seconds in The Hobbit, someone should have just said no. What I mean is that the potential of a project should be assessed not solely by an algorithm, but on how well it tells a story. Does the concept have all the necessary elements for a cohesive narrative structure with tension and forward momentum? Does it stand for something that will engage audiences and create an emotional connection? Does it have a distinctive vision?
These are fundamentally subjective questions that are challenging to answer, and obviously ambitious visions and sharp storytelling skills do not guarantee success. But I’d rather gamble on them. The algorithm may be able to tell you whether there is money to be made in another Jack Ryan reboot or a third season of Reacher (okay, I admit I’ll watch those). But no algorithm will ever predict the success of content like The Bear or Baby Reindeer, and that’s the content being showered with Emmys.
And to all the creative people out there pitching the next Emmy-winning series, what should you do? There is no magic bullet, but our advice is this: 1) Understand that studios are a business; no one is going to fund your project out of the goodness of their hearts. 2) Communicate your unique vision. 3) Articulate why audiences will connect to your story. 4) Know your story precisely and your characters intimately—it’s not enough to have an engaging concept and hope to work the kinks out in development; production companies are increasingly expecting you to do that before they buy in. With our workshops and tools for effective pitching and storytelling, PageCraft can help you refine your vision and create engaging projects every time.
How can we help you with your screenwriting journey?
Check out our upcoming online programs and residential labs.
As always, we’re also ready to support your process with intensive one-on-one coaching and script feedback.
Your next project is worth it.