Tarantino, Netflix and the case for a theatrical release

The discussion centres on how a film reaches the public and becomes a shared event, not just on the size of the screen.

The Cannes criticism in 2023

In his interview with Baz Bamigboye for Deadline during Cannes 2023, Tarantino defended the cinematic release and questioned the cultural footprint of productions made directly for streaming platforms. He used Ryan Reynolds films for Netflix as an example, which he said he had not seen. The remark expressed his distance from that model of distribution, not a review based on having watched each title.

That difference avoids a common mistake: presenting an admitted lack of knowledge about a film as a detailed assessment of its quality. It is also worth separating a contentious remark from a literal description of the audience. The fact that a work has not featured in Tarantino's experience does not mean that nobody has seen it, remembered it or discussed it. The statement sets out a cultural preference; by itself, it does not provide an audience measurement.

His position is better understood if two moments are distinguished: the release and the afterlife of a film. Arguing that the first presentation should take place in a cinema does not mean denying that it can later be watched at home. The debate concerns the place that each window occupies in the identity and public circulation of the work.

What changes when the experience is shared in a cinema

The screening brings together people who have set aside the same time slot to watch a film. The beginning, duration and ending are not left to the individual choice of each viewer. That condition can increase concentration and make a long pause or an uncomfortable scene feel more intense without the immediate option of switching to another title. It does not guarantee perfect attention, but it establishes a shared frame.

Audience reactions are also part of that frame. Laughter can spread; silence can become noticeable because many people stop moving at the same time. The viewer retains individual judgement, even if they sense that the scene is affecting other bodies. The experience is not simply about receiving visual and sound information.

The release also provides a shared point in time. A film enters conversation at a recognisable moment, with screenings, reviews and meetings concentrated around its arrival. Platforms can also create collective events, but their continual availability organises the relationship between release, discovery and staying power differently. Confusing these forms of circulation makes it harder to discuss their specific advantages and limits.

At-home access offers real possibilities that any defence of cinemas must take into account. Not everyone lives near a varied programme or can travel easily. Availability at home can bring a work closer to audiences who would not otherwise have been able to see it on release. Recognising that function does not mean treating the experiences as identical, nor does it remove the question of what is lost when an alternative disappears.

The Hateful Eight prevents us from speaking of an absolute rejection

In 2019, Tarantino explained to /Film his involvement in the episodic version of The Hateful Eight for Netflix. The fact introduces a crucial nuance: his criticism of releases designed for platforms cannot be turned into the claim that he has never collaborated with them. The film already had a cinematic life before that new presentation.

The distinction makes it possible to understand two different decisions. One is to conceive a work for a cinema release; another is to revisit its form of circulation later. The fact that both can coexist does not prove that the director approves of every platform production model. Nor does it automatically make any reservation he expresses incoherent. To assess the relationship, we have to pay attention to the specific project and the moment at which it intervenes.

Something similar happens with the idea of filming for television. A statement of interest, a possibility mentioned in an interview and a realised project are different states. Turning any of them into a definitive promise can produce artificial contradictions when separate conversations years apart are compared. A filmmaker's stance may contain stable preferences and particular decisions that require additional context.

The phrase war against Netflix simplifies that complexity and shifts the debate towards personal enmity. What deserves scrutiny is what conditions he considers necessary for the cinema he wants to make: a first public experience, a form of attention and a relationship with the viewer's memory. Only then can we discuss whether those conditions can exist solely in cinemas or whether they also appear, in another way, in other settings.

The case for exhibition becomes more concrete when it is about preserving the possibility of choice. One film may have an extensive home life after first needing a shared screen; another may find its audience mainly outside cinemas. Tarantino's position gives priority to the first experience. Understanding that priority allows us to discuss his arguments without turning them into an automatic dismissal of viewers who discover cinema through a platform.

See the guide to Tarantino's books, criticism and cinephile projects.