Oh no, they’re all swallowing the Netflix Big Data hype
Netflix has acquired vast amounts of data about its viewers’ watching habits – but can it really use this to predict what we want? Dominic Mills is not so sure.
So, a few weeks out of the UK in an almost completely media-free environment, and what is the media world talking about on my return? It’s still talking about big data. Not Liberty’s takeover of Virgin, but the Netflix commissioning, and release, of House of Cards: plenty of hyperbolic conversation about how this is going to change the world of TV forever and lead to the rise of Netflix as an original source of programming blah blah.
Some of the focus is on Netflix’s decision to offer the whole series in one go – leaving viewers with the option to watch in the traditional linear fashion, thus eking out episodes over a period of time, or to binge-view the whole lot in one go.
But the bulk of the coverage sees commentators slobbering over Netflix’s use of big data. The thinking goes like this: as a web-delivered source of content, Netflix has tons of data about viewing habits (about 30 million bits of data a day): what people watch, when they watch, how they watch, how long they watch, when they pause, when they fast-forward and so on.
Combine this with the clever use of tagging – genres, stars, writers, directors and so on – and Netflix can predict what will be a hit and what won’t.
Hallelujah! Blessed is this Holy Grail for all TV executives. David Carr’s column in the New York Times last week was an especially egregious example of this. Follow this to a logical conclusion, and it’s the end of all crap on TV. If only.
And if only TV commissioning was that straightforward. Carr and others like him – Russell Davies in Campaign, for example – need to take a longer spoon when they sup with the likes of Netflix.
I am more sceptical. For a start House of Cards is not exactly new. It’s already been a hit both here and in the US before Netflix decided to remake it.
But if you’re looking for case law when it comes to using big(ish) data to predict entertainment hits, there’s one institution with a long track record – and it ain’t pretty.
It’s called Hollywood and the law of the sequel (and prequel). It’s not surprising that they describe Star Wars, the endless Alien saga, Batman, Jurassic Park, Police Academy sequels and so on as ‘franchises’ – i.e. lending themselves to a replicable, cookie-cutter approach.
But were they better, or did they perform better than the original? Did they hell. Give me the original creative instinct any time.
Sainsbury’s C4 show: less chat, more food porn please
Last week saw the début of Sainsbury’s new daily lunchtime show on Channel 4, What’s Cooking from the Sainsbury’s kitchen?, complete with the somewhat ominous ‘P’ that denotes product placement.
In the cause of this column I have sat through two episodes (I know: the things columnists subject themselves to – but they’re a whole 60 minutes long) of this advertiser-funded show.
What do I think? Well, I’m wondering what value Sainsbury’s is getting out of this. Yes, I get its wish to associate itself with food and cooking and strengthen the alignment with the ‘Live well for less’ slogan.
But any supermarket could more or less take the same position; there is nothing uniquely Sainsbury’s about this.
Apart from the title sequences and the orange paraphernalia draped around the set (sofas, mugs, tangerines, cue cards) there’s not much Sainsbury’s about it. There are a few namings and limited product placement (in any case, the ingredients are generic so you could buy them anywhere). Hardly stuff to get the PPP (Product Placement Police) agitated.
Funnily enough, the launch of the series coincides with this piece of self-serving research from Channel 4 about the efficacy of product placement. Well, they would say that, wouldn’t they?
But my real problem is the show itself, a hybrid between a chat show and a cooking show. At least half the running time was chat, and pretty tepid stuff too. If Sainsbury’s wants to own cooking, then let’s have some food porn and forget the chat.
As it stands, it’s neither one thing nor the other, and the website is the best thing about it in terms of providing accessible recipe advice.
Verdict: money wasted.
Recommended action: stick to TV advertising – the old Jamie Oliver quick recipes did the trick.
Brand gibberish
We all have our favourite examples of what you might call ‘Brand Wank’, loosely defined as phrases about the role of the brand in everyday life which, at first glance seem highly insightful, but are quickly revealed to be empty.
You might, for example, hear the latest Galaxy TV ad, featuring the late Audrey Hepburn and the immortal line ‘Why have cotton when you can have silk?’ described as an example of ‘brand necrophilia’.
After almost 20 years of exposure to this stuff I am, I am ashamed to admit, almost inured it.
But after seeing a slogan on the side of a tour bus in Cambodia (sadly I was unable to get my camera out in time) I have resolved to name and shame.
The slogan read: ‘Quality is premium: caste is brand’, as fine an example of vapidity that I have seen for some time. I have no idea what it means and neither, I’m sure, did the author or the Japanese or Korean tourists on the bus.
It’s the use of the word ‘caste’ that really bothers me. It’s a word most commonly used in a prejudicial context. But maybe they’re further advanced with brand wank in South East Asia than we are here.
So, if anyone finds compelling examples, please send them to me at: dominicmillsmedia@gmail.com.