? This is the finale of our originally three-, now four-part series on Netflix’s acquisition of Warner Bros. Read part one here for the business breakdown, part two here for what that means for the industry, part three here for the details on Paramount Skydance’s hostile all-cash bid.

That’s all, folks. Over the weekend, Netflix announced it would acquire Warner Bros. Discovery’s film and television studios, along with HBO Max, for a staggering USD 82.7 bn in enterprise value. The deal positions the streaming giant as the new owner of one of Hollywood’s most storied studios, and host to 400 mn global streaming users.

Monopoly aside, one of the major sticking points to the public has been that a man who doesn’t believe in movie theaters will now control Hollywood’s premier studio. While Netflix co-CEO Ted Sarandos promises the union will “help define the next century of storytelling,” the acquisition threatens to deliver a devastating blow not only to movie theaters and economic windows in tinseltown, but to the very fabric of shared cultural experience that cinema has provided for over a century.

Sarandos has been remarkably consistent in his contempt for traditional moviegoing. In a 2024 interview with The New York Times, when asked about box office juggernauts like Barbie and Oppenheimer — which famously had moviegoers dressing up thematically and seeing both movies back-to-back — he said he believed they would have been enjoyed just the same from home: “There’s no reason to believe that the movie itself is better in any size of screen… My son [watched] Lawrence of Arabia on his phone.” This doesn’t sound like a CEO acknowledging that different viewing options serve different needs. This is someone actively arguing that watching David Lean’s sweeping desert epic — shot in 70mm to capture the vastness and isolation of the landscape — on a phone is equal to experiencing it in a theater.

What he fails to realize is that moviegoing isn’t about convenience, it’s a cultural and social practice with inherent value. Calling theaters “ outdated ” (which he did) is like calling the restaurant business outdated, just because convenient dining-in options are available.

You snooze, you lose: While Netflix has promised to maintain Warner Bros.’ theatrical operations, Sarandos was quick to add a disclaimer: “Over time, [theatrical runs] will evolve to be much more consumer friendly, to meet the audience where they are quicker.” Translation: the time individual movies spend showing in cinemas will shrink dramatically.

Netflix’s current theatrical releases in the US typically receive two-week runs before hitting the streaming platform — a far cry from the traditional 45-day window that Sarandos has called “completely out of step with the consumer experience.” Cinema United, the global exhibition trade association, responded swiftly: “The proposed acquisition of Warner Bros. by Netflix poses an unprecedented threat to the global exhibition business. The negative impact of this acquisition will impact theaters from the biggest circuits to one-screen independents,” and deprive audiences of the full cinematic experience.

The cultural cost: In an increasingly atomized culture that is causing a lonelinessepidemic, theaters offer something irreplaceable: the experience of being part of a collective audience, the same thing that makes attending concerts and sports events different than listening to music or watching matches on the TV. The shared gasp at a plot twist, the communal laughter at a perfect comedic beat — these moments of synchronized emotional response create informal bonds between strangers that reinforces a quickly fading sense of community.

There’s a reason Christopher Nolan fought so hard to keep Oppenheimer in theaters, why Dennis Villeneuve insists Dune must be seen on the biggest screen possible, why James Cameron designs his films specifically for theatrical exhibition. These filmmakers understand what Sarandos doesn’t: that the theatrical experience is fundamentally different from home viewing — not inconvenient or outdated, but different in ways that matter.

A social contract: When you watch a film in a theater, you enter a kind of contract with the screen and your fellow audience members. You agree to be fully present and to surrender your attention completely to experience the film as the filmmaker intended — in the dark, on a massive screen, with carefully calibrated sound, without the distractions of your phone or the ability to pause and check social media. This focused, communal attention creates a more profound and memorable experience.

Sarandos’ comments are those of someone who views films as mere content to be consumed however is most convenient, rather than as an art form whose impact is intrinsically tied to how it’s experienced. His anecdote about his son watching Lawrence of Arabia on his phone — apple, tree — isn’t proof that screen size doesn’t matter, it just demonstrates proof that he is a powerful man in the filmmaking industry who doesn’t understand why it should.