Back when I first got Netflix streaming, it was different. Brutal.
There were like 8 movies, you had to basically call to connect any device and you couldn't even run any other program on your entire internet connection or it wouldn't load properly. But we were undoubtedly grateful.
The barren cable conglomerate landscape had burned our eyes and our souls into black pits of charred paper bills and contracts. The cinders from our "bundle" plans reminded us everyday that we could no longer even justify having a home phone, let alone cable. So those first brave few pioneers cut the cord.
We kept our overpriced internet plans and jettisoned the dead weight. We were a small community, surviving on the outskirts of civilization, not knowing what was happening on the latest shows, making our bones on movies like Clockstoppers and TimeCop. We suffered. But we forged ahead.
Competitors were springing up everywhere: Hulu, Project FreeTV, MegaVideo, they all had their drawbacks. Commercials, viruses, the federal government... you know. Yes, some people went rogue, dealing with pirates to get their sweet fix of The Office or American Idol. We did not encourage them! But nor did we judge. For some, the harsh realities of life without cable were too much. And those digital converter boxes were ridiculous!
The poor bastards just couldn't live without knowing what happened to Jim and Sam or whoever I don't know I hated the American remake. The original British though... everything is better in Britain, isn't it? They make a TV show named after a postal code and we get the brilliant "W1A". American does it and we get "90210". Twice.
I could continue, but that's not what this is about!
No! This post is about the progress we have made! Like the first settlers in a new landscape, we may lose some along the way, but we will always be improving, building, adapting.
First, we had to manually play the next episode during binges. Then we got the auto-play feature. I wept with joy, almost as if I were witnessing a new step forward in the evolution of this thing we had all put our faith in.
Then there was Max! How I loved to play with him, choosing between the different terrible options he would always give me that never had anything to do with what I watched. But I understood. Just like a child isn't usually born knowing how to properly fold clothes or make the perfect Eggs Benedict with fresh Hollandaise, Max only needed instruction! Careful attention and proper training and I could have made him BRILLIANT! When they took Max from us, I understood. I was sad to see him go, even though he had never, ever correctly selected anything for me to watch. I still... find myself humming our song from time to time... Get the max- from Netflix- YEAAAAHHHH!
Again, we moved beyond the pain and the struggle and pushed forward. We had another great feature introduced to soften the blow, the Post-Play. Not only did it automatically advance forward from one glorious episode to the next with hardly a motion, but it did something truly miraculous. Something we had only dreamed of...
It skipped the damn opening credits of TV shows that you were clearly watching for 14 hours straight because no you don't have a problem and you don't need any help and Murder, She Wrote was amazing and Jessica Fletcher just cannot be interrupted!
That was the moment I realized that Netflix and I had finally reached our zenith. Our pinnacle. Our crowning glory.
And then came the "Continue Watching" button. It was a cold slap in the face from what had previously been regarded as a beloved member of my family. Just because I've watched three episodes of Magnum, P.I. in a row does not mean I am finished! I do not need to be interrupted to see if I am still conscious in the middle of my marathons of Keeping Up Appearances! I am an adult Netflix! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!
Sadly, that isn't even the worst part. This idea, this ideal, that we had nurtured, cared for, supported financially was now bigger than we were. It knew better. Netflix was sure that anything beyond the three or four episode limit was just human error. I could not communicate directly with Netflix about this oddly parochial new slant, so I simply took comfort in jamming the button as hard as possible on the "Continue" option. It began to leave me alone if I paused it once or twice an hour to know I'm there, on guard and alive and I don't need help from an algorithm.
No, the worst was yet to come...
Last month I noticed something odd when I added a new show and began to watch.
I sat through all the credits at the beginning. Of the second episode in a row. "What?" I actually asked out loud, forgetting that Netflix could not hear me. Then, like an adult, I manually fast-forwarded through the credits.
46 minutes later and there I am again, facing the same 2 minute wall of nonsense that I didn't care about the first two times! I immediately shut everything down, thinking that if I could just turn it off and then turn it back on again, perhaps it would work! Ah, just thinking of the many happy hours of Roy and Moss that Netflix had provided me calmed the worst of my ire.
Rebooted and ready to get my binge on, I moved through the various screens that stood between me and my current victim- I mean show. Why is the My List suddenly at the bottom? Why is the Continue Watching not updated? Fine! I will brave these challenges Netflix because I AM NOT A QUITTER!
Finally I arrive at my destination, the newest season of "Call the Midwife". I resume on episode three, which starts from 0:00 and OH MY HOLY MOTHER OF ALL SAINTS WHAT THE HELL?!
Credits. All of them. Still. This is a travesty! After everything I have given you! After that horribly conceived price hike, the email thing, the lack of the last season of Poirot! I have stood by you! Believing that you were simply still growing, still maturing, and that you would one day be the streaming service I always dreamed you could be! And this... this is how you repay me?
Forsooth, Netflix. forsooth.
I shake my head, my back now turned from the smoldering wreckage that was my Roku. Alas, you died a noble death Roku-san. You could not have known what betrayal would be carried through your shiny black covering into my abode. However, I regret nothing. You were merely the carrier of the poison, but like a beautiful black goblet spiked with hate, you suffered the fate of the damned. But do not blame me. What other reasonable reaction could have been expected in the face of such blatant disregard for my time? Those seconds spent fast-forwarding manually at every episode of every show would mount to a lifetime if I allowed it to continue unchecked. Roku-san, I know you would rather have died in glorious battle, bravely, for the worthy cause. Thank you my old friend. I will wait a suitable period of mourning before upgrading to the Roku 3.
I have made frequent trips to Netflix on recent days, hoping that on some machine, some piece of technology, the darkness has not spread. My computer, my PlayStation, even the Xbox and the Wii - they have all forsaken me. The app on my phone doesn't even work now. None of the captions match up with the voices and I can't figure out what's happening and just trying to watch an episode of Parks and Rec is brutal. I'm just saying.
Heaving a sigh, I resort to Amazon, re-watching Newsroom and Downton. There still remains in me a hope. I cannot accept that Netflix has been entirely corrupted. Perhaps they will bring back the credit skipping feature. Maybe they had a good reason to force me to do it myself, like contracts with people or something with money, I don't know. I wish I did know. But would knowing make the pain ease? Would Netflix reverting to old, antiquated practices like playing all the openings of shows ever hurt less? I can't say.
Turning my back on such an old ally completely would be foolish. Perhaps I will give Netflix some time. Time to reevaluate, time to think, time to fix the problems. In spite of these recent trials, I still love Netflix. It was a savior in a time of crisis. It was a friend. It was there for me when I needed something... someone...
And after all, Netflix knows far too much about my view habits for me to ever walk away compl
{Edit: Hope has decided to come back to the circle of Netflix. She is really quite happy with the arrangements and is in no way under duress. She certainly isn't being forced to watch the opening credits for House of Cards, over and over, until she can appreciate the cinematic beauty and complexity. Nor is she being encouraged to atone for her recent outburst or decimation of a set-top streaming hardware box. Not at all. Carry on. Remember: Start your one-month free trial of Netflix anytime!* *New customers only.}
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