My History and the Golden Age
I’m a big proponent of physical media (DVDs, Blu-Rays, 4K Blu-Rays, CDs, Books, VHS, cartridge – you name it, I’ve probably bought or used it) and have been my whole life. Now, to be fair, for much of my life there was no alternative. If wanted to own a piece of media you had to drive to a store, buy a physical object, drive back to your house, and find somewhere to put it when you weren’t using it. A little clunky, sure, but it got the job done. If I ever wanted to listen to, read, watch, or play any of my favorites I had but to pull it from its resting place and insert it into my player of choice.
As a result, I developed a tangible bond with many of these items. I still remember the wonderful smell inside the case each time I opened up my Star Wars: Special Edition Trilogy VHS collection. I’d sometimes find myself staring at the box art of some of my favorites, content just to think about them while holding them in my hands. Other times I would take out all the entries in a franchise and lay them end-to-end across the floor- admiring the visual splendor as the artwork moved from one to the next. It made each piece feel like a distinct and unique part of the ethereal whole. I could see the life of a franchise (or a series) laid out in front of me, the realities of history or release date be damned. As much as the media itself meant to me (the song, or episode, or movie), so too did the storage medium – the actual object that contained this thing that I loved. I could quite literally touch the stories that built the foundation of who I was.
Another benefit of the necessity of physical media was the aspect of collecting – obtaining all of something. Each new season of a favorite TV show, or sequel in a beloved franchise became another notch in my belt. Displayed across multiple shelves scattered around my room was the visual proof of my passion – a literal treasure-trove of all the media I just had to own, of those things that meant so much to me. With the spines all facing outward, organized in neat little rows by genre or franchise, they combined to create an almost picaso-esque work of art. Lord or the Rings sitting next to Everybody Loves Raymond. Friday the 13th a stone’s throw from Halloween and Nightmare on Elm Street. My physical media collection was both a monument to the things that I loved and a useful tool to transport myself to any world I wished with the push of a button.
It also helped that I came of age during the Golden Age of physical media. The advent of the DVD saw the rise of season and series boxsets of TV shows from all ears of history, it led to the proliferation of special features such as the commentary and the featurette, and it allowed for easy access to cult classics that might not have ever been re-released on VHS. Physical media was big business – and this was good news for people who cared about quality (DVD was miles ahead of VHS) and longevity (DVDs have a much long shelf-life than tape), never mind the smaller footprint that DVD cases occupied compared to their VHS brethren. If there was a movie or show or album you wanted to own, any number of dedicated (FYE, Media Play, Suncoast) or partially dedicated (Best Buy, Wal-Mart, Target) stores were available with sweeping physical media sections to help you out. But alas, even as the Golden Age ramped up with the release of Blu-Ray (the first true high definition format), it was nearing its end. The looming tsunami that was streaming and “digital ownership” was on its way and it would change how people interacted with media forever.
Enter the Digital Age
For much of my early life, the internet was a shell of what it would eventually become. Text loaded slowly, pictures even more so, and video was all but unavailable. If you did want to watch something online, it required physically downloading the entire file to your computer first. Bear in mind, this was in an age when both storage space and download speeds were in painfully short supply. Not only that, but once you did download the file, you would need to make sure that you had the proper player and codecs installed to match whatever file format it was in. Only then could you finally watch the (usually extremely compressed and very low-res) video of your choice. After doing so, it was then customary to delete the file to make room for the inevitable next one. Re-watching something usually entailed repeating the entire process again from the start – not an enviable task. As such, the notion that media of any substance would or could ever be view online was a fanciful one and thus posed no threat to the then-dominance of physical media.
That all began to change around 2005 with the launch of YouTube. While not the first video sharing site, and burdened with horrible resolutions and limited time restrictions, it was the first one to truly go mainstream. People could make and upload videos of their choice that would be instantly accessible to rest of the world – no download required! True, video loading times were still abysmal, but the freedom to watch and re-watch a video of your choice (on any computer of your choice) was a revolution. While a far cry from what DVDs could do, it gave people a taste of a world where media could be truly ephemeral – it existed in the void of the internet (now called the cloud) and nowhere else. It should come as little surprise that, as a result, traditional media companies took notice – though not in the way you might expect.
Far from the sweeping dominance and embrace of streaming now found across the media landscape, initial responses from companies were very hostile toward the concept of streaming. This was likely it part due to its use in piracy (particularly with music), but was likely founded more deeply in the threat it posed to the traditional business model. Why would people be willing to spend $25 for a DVD or $40 for a TV season if things could just be watched online? How could such viewing even be monetized? No, the out-of-the-gate response to streaming was the desire to kill it wholesale (much the same as it was with the advent of recordable VHS tapes). Unfortunately for their desires, advancement cannot be contained. As technology improved, both the length and quality of steamtable media improved. Once iTunes rose to dominate the music marketplace, with MP3 downloads slowly overtaking CD sales, studios of other media began to take notice. They began dipping their toes into the water by offering movies for sale on the same platform, or even offering a digital copy alongside the physical in box to encourage adoption.
Between this practice and the rise of Netflix’s own streaming arm, the benefit of digital sales for companies began to become clear: with no physical storage mechanism needed, a greater portion of the profits could go directly into their pockets. This meant no manufacturing, no shipping, no pressing, no returns, no printing, and no overstock. Seeing as how digital versions commanded just as high a price as their physical counterparts, and how comfortable people were becoming with the idea of accessing their media on the go, what started as a trickle became a wave and then a tsunami. Digital copies went from requiring a download to being hosted “in the cloud.” Digital releases went from being same day with physical, to coming out weeks ahead. People would rather stream it on a platform with a subscription than buy to own. The streaming revolution was here.
Why Physical Media is still Important
You might think, given the above, that the age of physical media is over. Much like Betamax and VHS, the entire concept is obsolete. The hassle of storing it, the risk of damage or losing it, the limitations on where it can be viewed – all of these surely culminate in a death kneel for this once great industry. Right?
Wrong.
Despite the many apparent advantages offered by streaming and digital “ownership,” physical media comes with a variety of benefits that either aren’t, or can’t be, found in its absence. It is not overstating it to say that some of these advantages cut to the very heart of our relationship with media and define the ways in which we not only view it, but relate to it. In an effort to be a thorough as possible, I will endeavor to give each and every relevant issue the time and care it deserves. With no further ado, and in only a semi-particular order, here are the things that (in my humble opinion) separate physical media from its digital counterparts and put it one step ahead.
Special Features
The concept of the “special feature” has its roots in the days of VHS. Often, re-releases of popular films would come with attached featurettes or cast interviews set before (or immediately following) the film. While oftentimes just copies old TV specials on the making of, some would be crafted with the express purpose of a home release (the featurettes on the digital alterations to the Star Wars Trilogy: Special Edition come to mind). While rarely a selling point (they were usually not even mentioned on the box), these short videos offer the consumer insight into the creation of their favorite films and sparked the filmmaking imaginations of those so inclined. While the limitations of the tape format prevented such features from evolving further, the advent and subsequent popularity of DVD allowed an increased proliferation and organization of such content.
Boxes would proudly state what sort of addition content was included and an arms race between the studios to one-up each other with their next release began. Television series such as Seinfeld and movie franchises such as The Lord of the Rings were treated to lavish box sets whose scope of special features often rivaled or even outmatched the length of the original media itself. Such materials helped immerse the viewing public in the world of work and care and collaboration that brought to life these things that they loved. Discussions of the story and breakdowns of special effects helped inform of the process and director’s commentaries gave a glimpse into the mind of the creator.
While it is true that in the years since this Golden Age the quantity (and sometimes quality) of the features has dwindled in physical media release (with the exception of specialty distributors such as Shout Factory), special features of one kind or another are still regularly found on almost all but the barest of releases. In contrast, such features are wholly unavailable on almost all streaming or digital platforms. Viewers of media in these places are left to speculate about the behind the scenes details or scour the internet for information piecemeal. While there are a few exceptions to this practice, most digital releases offer the viewer nothing more that access to the media itself.
For some people that might not be a big deal (everyone is entitled to their own opinions on the level of interest such materials hold for them), but for anyone with even a passing interest into how the proverbial sausage is made this is a tragedy. Such features help inform, teach, and inspire the next generation of artists and filmmakers (as they did for me) and help bring a bit of Hollywood know-how to the average consumer. Knowing that every piece of chainmail was hand-linked, or that the falling tower was a miniature shot in slow-motion, or that the daily make-up chair routine lasted for 4 hours may not change the story, but it helps to deepen the impact of The Two Towers has on its viewers. To see the passion and effort put forth to bring these worlds and character to life can do nothing but enhance one’s experience of the art itself.
Streaming and digital “ownership,” more often than not, fail in offering such amenities to their customers. By their very nature, such special features would need to be hosted on the platforms and would take up space that could otherwise be used for more (different) content. Such things, true or not, are also likely to be viewed as more “niche” by the companies (and of little interest to the average consumer) and thus left out of the equation. Such a decision robs the viewer of the choice of learning more about the craft and art and only pushes them on to the next – the desire of the distributor, no doubt, but a travesty to those who’d like to know more.
Sound and Picture Quality
In the age of 4K streaming it seems absurd (on its face) to indicate that such platforms have a disadvantage in terms of sound and picture quality. This misconception is easily dispelled if one but takes a closer look at the underlying facts, however. While it is true that certain providers do indeed offer 4K streaming and downloads, it is worth noting that use of such features are predicated on both the enormous capacity and consistent strength on the consumer’s internet. Have a monthly data cap? Too bad – even a one-time download of a 4K film can be huge (certainly enough to eat up your entire allotment for some cable providers). Spotty signal? Again, too bad – if the signal strength drops too low (or even cuts out) the image quality can quickly drop to not only standard HD, but even SD. Frozen images and loading bars are an ever-present threat to those who choose to view their media over the web. And what if you happen to live in an area where high speed internet still isn’t readily available? You guessed it, too bad – without even the ability to stream or download HD or 4K media, such viewings would otherwise be impossible with the use of physical media.
But let’s say you’re lucky: You live in an area with no data caps, and you have the highest and most consistent bandwidth available – you can’t even remember the last time you dropped a connection. Even in your case, physical media holds the upper hand. Despite the wonderful advancements in technology, any time media is sent (or streamed) over the internet it is compressed along the way. That compression, even when undone on you end, invariably results in a loss of sound and picture quality. As good as the image may look, it still pales in comparison to those offered by the reading of physical media. In an age where TVs and sound equipment have never been better, why would you intentionally bottleneck the quality of the media you consume on them?
Ownership of Media
This is the king daddy, the big kahuna – the single greatest advantage of physical media and the one that the other methods cannot compete with. Even if the other items on the list were render moot tomorrow, this singular issue would be enough to render physical media the undisputed champ. Don’t believe me? Think this is unimportant? Allow me to show you just how wrong you really are. [Hint: Very, very wrong.]
For the biggest part of history, there was no way for individuals to ever “own” a copy of media. Songs could only be heard live, movies seen only in the theater, television caught once during its initial airing. The only thing you had to hold on to after your experience was your own memories of it (and we all know how reliable those can be sometimes). Want to revisit the work? Care to share it with someone else? Too bad. Besides praying the film was still out (or re-released) or traveling around to catch the band, you were left with few other options. All that change (at different times, of course) with the advent and selling of physical media storage. Records (then tapes, CDs, and MP3s) and tapes (then DVDs, Blu-rays, and 4K Blu-ray) allowed viewers, for the first time, to control their access to and experience of all their favorite media. Songs (and albums) could be played on repeat, shared with friends, or otherwise enjoyed at your leisure. The same was eventually true of movies and, later, TV shows.
No longer were you subject to never ending (or recurring) charges to re-experience something you loved. People could watch and analyze media in ways which were previously impossible. Little details and overarching themes became more accessible to the audience as they could dig down into the “meat” of their favorite things with repeat viewings. The sheer quantity and variety of media that a single individual could be exposed to increased dramatically – trading CDs or DVDs with friends and co-workers became the norm. For a one-time fee, you would have (barring any sort of loss or damage) lifetime access to your favorite stories – just like books before them, physical media allowed the viewer to collect and accumulate a collection of those things most important to them and, if so desired, display them. These types of media, once held at arm’s length as a result of technological hindrances, were able to become intensely personal in a way previously impossible. Viewers now felt a sense of pride and ownership in those works, connecting to them even more deeply.
Physical media also aided in the preservation of artistic works that might otherwise have faded into obscurity. Movies or TV shows with small or niche fan bases were offered the opportunity to purchase (and thereby cement their access to) those media. From the success of Tremors in home VHS market (thus leading to a multitude of sequels and even a TV series), to the literal revival of the now long-running Family Guy as a direct result of its strong DVD sales, physical media has proven its ability to breathe new life into franchises (or artists) that might not otherwise have made it. At the very least, it ensures that you will never be left unable to enjoy those things that you love, no matter their critical or financial success. As the old saying I’m just making up right now goes, “Everything is somebody’s favorite.”
After spending the last few paragraphs praising physical media, let’s now talk specifically about how these points stack up to the alternatives – digital “ownership” and streaming. In the case of digital “ownership,” you might notice that I always include a set of quotes around the word ownership. There is a very good reason for that. Unlike purchasing a copy on physical media, where your rights extend as far into the future as the lifespan of the media will allow (with proper care, a very long time), digital rights of ownership are rarely more than a glorified rental agreement. Access can be revoked with little to no notice, and the ability to view said media can be limited greatly to only a handful of devices or locations. Even if no malice is intended, the shuttering of services such as the once-standard “Utraviolet” show that when the companies involved in the sale of such digital rights decide that there is no longer profit to be made by supporting such services, you access to “owned” material can disappear. [That said, I will at least give credit to Ultraviolet for at least attempting to help people keep access to their content by allowing it to be transferred over another service such as Vudu. Still, this is only a temporary solution unless the expectation is that Vudu will never follow in the same footsteps of closing its doors.]
All of this is not to even mention the companies which would revoke such access as means to force a re-purchase or, even more profitable, a subscription (but we’ll get to that). After all, from a company’s perspective, the primary downside to selling true ownership (i.e. physical) is that it cannot be remonetized or revoked. No one is going to show up at your door and take your tapes or discs away in the same way that they might pull a digital plug. If future rights issues arise or a company no longer wants to be associated with a piece of media, while they might be able to wipe their digital footprint, they have no ability to do the same with their physical releases (Disney and their relationship to Song of the South comes to mind). Say what you will about such media and the reasons that a company might want to distance itself from it, with the existence of physical media they do not have the ability to scrub it from existence – if only for historical records. It is the same reason that, while their might never have been a proper digital release, fans can still gain access to the original, unaltered Star Wars trilogy via its release on VHS and (in a more limited fashion) as a DVD extra. Digital “ownership,” while it might seem more convenient due to its early access and portability, is really little more than a cover for the fact that you only hold a temporary (and easily revocable) license to access the works that you love. As a free addendum to a physical purchase, I fully support it. As a replacement for such a purchase, it doesn’t even come close.
“But,” I hear you saying, “What about streaming? Surely it is better. After all, it’s upfront and honest about the fact that you’re paying for limited access. Plus, look at the wealth of content for the price!” And you’re right – streaming is honest about the deal being made. No one suffers under the illusion that they “own” of the content in question, and the wide variety of choice available is truly wonderful. Again, as an addendum to physical media, I think it is a perfectly acceptable idea. Unfortunately, as a result of corporate decisions and a (shortsighted) recent change in the winds of public opinion vis a vis the necessity of ownership of media, the notion that companies want streaming to live alongside physical media as opposed to functioning as a replacement, is laughable. While corporations such as Netflix might occasionally release physical versions of their most popular shows and movies (Orange is the New Black and House of Cards comes to mind), for the most part they are content to lock them up forever behind a paywall. Lose your job or run into some other financial crisis? Hope you don’t like watching Santa Clarita Diet to unwind, because buying a subscription is the only way to see it. And I don’t even want to think what would happen to the thousands of Netflix originals should the service ever close its doors. In the short-term, however, this system allows companies to, in effect, return to the good old days of pay-to-play – before physical media showed up and gave people another option.
But perhaps you’ll make the argument, as unfounded as it might be, that somehow the rules should apply differently to such “made-for-streaming” content than it does to media released via other methods. Even then, in only those areas containing existing media, the downsides and limitations are readily apparent – perhaps even more-so as we have existing precedent to compare it to. The four examples I’ll use are those of Archer, Seinfeld, The Simpsons, and Friends. Each represents a different, but equally important, aspect of this issue:
Archer: Limiting Access to Quality – Archer, like nearly even show produced in the modern age, is rendered and aired in HD (1080p). For a while, once Blu-ray had well and truly arrived, the physical media release of the show was offered in HD. Even prior seasons, themselves shot in but never released on HD media, were re-released for those fans wanting the best experience. Then, at a certain point, Fox decided that they would no longer offer Blu-ray (HD) releases of the show, but would instead only make it available on DVD (480p, standard). This type of decision can been seen with not only this show, but others such as It’s always Sunny in Philadelphia, The Good Place, and (until recently) Community. Television airings of the shows, as well as digital “ownership” and streaming services (i.e. those sources which provided continual revenue) would remain available in HD, while physical media owners would be relegated to paying for an inferior version (an even greater irony given physical media’s previously mentioned strength of retaining visual and auditory quality when compared to other methods).
Seinfeld: Lock the Door – Seinfeld, like many shows of its generation, was treated to a full series release of its entire run on DVD back in the early-to-mid 2000’s. Unlike many series, and due in great part to its popularity and quality, it was given the star treatment. To say those sets had an abundance of special features (from commentaries, to featurettes, to real-time facts on every episode, to alternate versions of certain episodes due to recasting of later changes) would be an understatement. These physical releases were the gold standard of how to do a TV show on DVD right. Between the show’s immense popularity, the wealth of existing special features, and the more recent full-HD remasters for every episode, re-releasing these (updated) sets on Blu-ray for fans to enjoy would seem to be a no-brainer. That is, it would be if you didn’t want to encourage viewership in repeats or on streaming services such as Hulu – yet again locking a superior quality version of a show behind a perpetual paywall. Sure, the DVDs are still available to those that want to own the show (in its original aspect ratio and timing, no less), but a modern (HD) viewing is only possible by watching Ads or paying a continual fee. The ability is there, the demand is there, but the desire to surrender control over how and when you watch it is not.
The Simpsons: And throw Away the Key – Like Seinfeld, The Simpsons was a show known for its garish and feature-rich physical media release (commentaries on EVERY episode?!). Unlike Seinfeld, given the length of time the show had been on the air (and still remains on at the time of this writing), the release of the entire series on physical media was never achieved. Not only were they chasing a movie target, with the amount of seasons growing each year, but there was an incredible backlog to get though. Like Archer, the series releases eventually upgraded from DVD to Blu-ray and kept coming out at regular intervals. Then Fox decided to bring every episode to their FXX channel for reruns and to their streaming service (for a fee, of course). At the same time, and no doubt intrinsically connected, they suddenly announced the end of their physical releases of the show (with seasons 1-17, and 20 available). Not only did this leave fans flabbergasted (a great deal of money had no-doubt been spent on these releases under the assumption that the series would eventually be made whole), but it left them with a hole in their existing collection (the missing seasons 18 and 19, both of which would eventually be made available on DVD only, a few years later – a rare showing of luke-warm compassion in this ordeal). While FOX might have touted slowing sales for the sets as their official reason for abandoning such releases, it was clear to anyone watching that the real reason was to restrict access to the show to only those source capable of continual profit. How better to drive consumers to the Simpsons streaming service than by ensuring that they don’t have, or will ever have, any other form of access outside of perpetual payment?
Friends: The Downside of Streaming Reliance – Unlike the other shows on this list, Friends was treated to both a full-series DVD release and, later, a full-series Blu-ray release. If you want to own the entire show in the best quality available, you are perfectly able. That said, many people ask “Why bother? It’s on Netflix. I’ll just watch it there.” And fair enough, you absolutely can. However, just because Friends (or The Office, or Jaws, or Moana) is currently on Netflix does not mean it always will be. In fact, with each of those examples, Netflix either already has (or soon will be) losing the rights. As a consumer, this means that, through no fault of your own, you will be losing access to all of this media. You will either be forced to subscribe to another service or live in a world where you can no longer watch Ross and Rachael whenever you’d like. While none of this is life threatening, and all of it is abundantly clear in the terms of service, it does mean that relying on the constant availability of the media you love is impossible in a streaming-only world. As a result, you can only watch, or listen to, your favorites when the intersecting whims of large corporations say you can. Truly owning the media for yourself, in the form of a non-revocable physical copy, is the only real way to ensure perpetual access.
While these shows represent but a small fraction of the media landscape, I believe that each of their stories act as prime examples as to why a world in which control of media is relinquished is demonstrably worse for the consumer. Freedom and choice are fundamental rights inherent to ownership and, as shown by the example of print media, are valuable tools in enjoying and more deeply appreciating and analyzing works of art. These same principals, while seeming bolstered by the wealth of (temporary) choice across streaming platforms, are actually at odds with the fundamental ways in which they conduct their business. Corporations have every incentive to continue to restrict your access to media to a both narrow, and strictly controlled, forms of rental (streaming) and pseudo-“ownership” (in practice, merely rental under a different name) – and they have no reason to do otherwise unless they are met with public push-back against this reduction of rights. Much like with print media, the ability to properly own other types of replicable media should be an intrinsic norm as opposed to some sort of rarified privilege.
Conclusion
While I’m sure that there are some that would disagree with me (this is the internet, after all), I hope that many of you reading this have found at least some degree of truth in what I have written. While it might be easy to dismiss physical media as some sort of outmoded form of data transmission, a fad that has outlived its days and has been supplanted by more modern forms of viewership, I would argue that it is instead a necessary hallmark of both media and artistic appreciation. It is a model that allows the audience the ability to not only form innate connections with such media, but to carry it forward throughout the rest of their lives. It is a way to ensure both the quality of the art and continued access to it. If viewers of such media allow large companies to replace them as the primary decision makers as when, how, and at what cost they can access art that matter to them, they will have given up that right not only for themselves, but for those that feel differently and those that are yet to come. Even if the continued existence of physical media plays little to no part in your life, and if all the points put forward in these past few pages fall on deaf ears, at least realize that there are a great many people for whom these issues matter greatly.
Art has the ability to affect our mood, change our mind, and open our eyes – as such, retaining quality access to its ability to do so is imperative. Allowing young and old alike to revel in special features that inspire their own dreams or bring them close to the things they love is a worthwhile goal, and by itself justifies the existence of physical media. But don’t mistake me, I am not against change. As long as the terms are made clear, and people are aware of both what they are paying for and what they are giving up, I am all for anyone interacting with media in any form they see fit. Experience of art can be a deeply personal matter, and no one way is right for everyone. I just hope that people remain mindful of the results of their decisions and proclivities, and the impact that such things can have on the market. After all, it is far easier to keep physical media alive and well alongside other forms of viewership than it would be to attempt to revive it, and all the benefits that come alongside, in a world from which it has been allowed to vanish.