Coincidentally, it was also around then that Netflix debuted its streaming service beginning the prolonged hospice care for DVDs. A few months later, House of Cards blew up as its first global hit and binge viewing became the new black. I don’t think we yet realize how platforms like Netflix - and to a lesser degree Amazon, Hulu etc - irrevocably changed how we think of entertainment distribution. Fast forward ten years and the Netfiix model of streaming is ubiquitous. Notoriously cagey with its numbers, it has recently emerged it currently has over 167 million paying subscribers globally. Fully-formed shows sprout out weekly to clamour for your binging attention. Teen dramas, murder mysteries, teen comedies, comedy specials, another teen drama. It’s now normal to watch ten hours of a season of an unknown TV show in one sitting, just to be able to talk abut the season finale the next day. It as normal for those shows to be canceled without ceremony because of the mythic algorithm that decides which shows warrant another lifeline.
But the biggest change Netflix promised is the creation of original content in local markets with international-level production value. It makes sense. Theoretically anyone with an internet connection and working credit card could access Netflix the world over, so why not begin making new things for them to watch other than Friends reruns? Sacred Games (or Amazon’s vastly superior Made in Heaven) are examples of what can come about if someone invests in nuanced storytelling. These two are about contemporary India but there is original content coming from almost every country. Well, except yours, obviously.
You’ve probably heard that one of the government ministers made a jealous plea demanding Netflix and Amazon made content in Pakistan, which has superior minds to India (his own nothwithstanding, one imagines). It was a puerile statement, and not only because it was diversionary dribble. It also chooses to ignore the very real part that the present government and state plays in making sure citizens cannot create freely. It ignores that the same government capitulated to a rabid right-wing presence on the censor board. It ignores that the government instructed banks to stop local credit card payments to Netflix in an effort to, you know, I’m still not sure what they wanted to achieve. But most of all, the statement perpetuates the idea that Pakistan is just a bursting with hitmakers, if only other people would stop ignoring us.
It is one of the more self destructive fictions Pakistanis believe. The truth is this country is incompatible with truth-telling, self-examination or a sense of universal morality not embedded in the Bronze Age. The same people who demand Netflix to come to Pakistan would be in line for diapers the moment a truly unvarnished version of the country were shown. It’s one of the reasons why our own TV dramas have devolved into repeated dissection of marital abuse as entertainment. Any show showing something other than an apologetic woman cowering under the weight of patriarchy runs the risk of angering self-hating fundamentalists, and is therefore better left ignored. It the same with writing, art, filmkainig, acting, singing, fashion, really everything.
The same people who demand Netflix to come to Pakistan would be in line for diapers the moment a truly unvarnished version of the country were shown
But rather than end this with yet another way the country’s politics lets down its culture (oh let me count the ways) I would like to bring your attention to a success story of one of our own.
Komail Nanjiani – the Pakistani-American actor responsible for the most positive visibility we’ve had abroad since Benazir Bhutto was elected – has recently teamed with Netflix for a series of short films exploring the theme of migration. From what I can tell, it’s like a Love Actually about visas. Its a brilliant idea, and the fact that Brazil banned one of the shots set there is testament to how we are not the only country in the world with issues. But it also shows that the one part everyone gets right is that, if given the chance, Pakistanis can do great things. The reason we are not given a chance is not because companies like Amazon and Netflix ignore us – it’s because we do.
Write to thekantawala@gmail.com