Imma do this final vent and then I’ll shut up about it.
This was a dumb move, from every possible perspective.
In the og goodbye video, they really made it sound like they were doing the streaming service because they wanted to go bigger, make cooler videos, really see what they could do and let their creative vision take the lead.
Growing as an artist is what you do when you Already Have The Money To Do So. You don’t tell your audience “give me money and then I will use to it to make cooler bigger things”. That’s not a streaming service, that’s a kickstarter.
They didn’t have the numbers to pull a streaming service off either. “We think we’re ready for television quality content” no you don’t. Sorry, no you do not. Television quality content means 30-50 crew per project, means at least 4-5 production being worked on at the same time, and at least 4-5 productions being broadcast at the same time. Watcher has maybe 2 series they upload simultaneously and they have 25 employees TOTAL. Not even CLOSE to tv levels of content, who the fuck do you think you are???
Did they really think all 3 million of their subscribers were going to follow them on this? Including kids, whose spending is dependent on their parents? Including the casuals, who only subscribed for the occasional video? Including people for whom $6 dollars on another streaming service just isn’t an option? Why DIDN’T they poll this, was this being a surprise really that important??
AND why would you completely cut off another revenue? Even if YouTube is restrictive, it’s still another source of income. Cutting that off completely is… bold.
Especially since in the apology, they let it slip that no, actually, it’s because Watcher is on the brink of having to close up shop because they’re not making enough money with just the patreon, the merch sales, the ad reads, etc.
So… one of those is a lie. Or at least part of the truth.
But let’s assume they are in financial trouble, then this was still the dumbest they could’ve done.
Welcome to the entertainment industry where we follow 1 giant fucking rule: Kill Your Darlings.
Fellas, pals, amigos, bros, dudes. If your projects spend more than what they make, it’s time to downsize. Not upscale. Cut the shit that’s spending the most money, start concentrating on how you can conserve without having to fire your crew. Put the projects where you have to fly out and buy new stuff all the time on the back burner, you can get back to them once you actually have the money for them. Work with what you already have. You have a MASSIVE studio space, fuckin use it. You HAVE sets, you HAVE props, you HAVE talent and you have ideas.
Start workshopping all the crazy and shit ideas you thought weren’t gonna work and start thinking how you could make them work with the lowest possible budget you can have. Your audience is there, they’ll watch whatever you throw at them. Now is the time to go crazy and see what sticks. You HAVE viewership.
Collab. CONSTANTLY. Get it the fuck out there that you exist. A lot of people had no idea a patreon existed, mention it ALL THE TIME. To the point that it becomes annoying. Do it!
If your studio is becoming too expensive, get rid of it. Sorry, kill your darlings. Move some shit around in Steven Lim’s tesla garage, put up some green screens, this is where you work now until you can afford a studio in LA again, you dipshits. Editors can work from home, sound designers can work from home, writers and researchers can work from home, meetings can happen in someone’s kitchen or living room.
And finally: be transparent. Be honest to your audience and communicate. “We’re sorry to put Ghost Files on hiatus, however we can no longer justify the cost of traveling to locations.” The majority of your audience will understand and show patience. The part of your audience that matters will wait and enjoy your other wacky shit in the meantime. Hell, they might spontaneously start their own kickstarter because those who can, will want to support you financially, if you’re just hONEST WITH THEM.
As a business, you constantly have to choose between your financial stability and that of your employees, your vision and the future of your company and what you Want to do with it, and your integrity, the trust between you and your audience. (Especially that last one, businesses can’t pretend they don’t have a relationship with their audience, that’s not how business works, guys.)
When you’re in financial straits, one of those has to go. Watcher chose the latter, they should’ve picked the middle. Their grand television quality ideas can fucking wait, if money is a problem.
Look, I’m an artist too. I had a vision too. But it was either my creative vision or being able to afford food and rent. Creativity can wait, creativity will always be there once I can support it. Living comes ALWAYS first. Asking my audience to fund my huge artistic dreams though, with only the promise of something cool, NEVER even crossed my fucking mind. That’s what donations are for, that’s what the patreon is for.
They apologised. And good. But this was a dumb decision from the goddamn start. There were like 500 steps in between and they skipped all of it. And for what? For money? For grand ideas? For greed or for hubris? How many of their original subscribers are actually gonna come back? How much money did they lose with this stunt? If they really are in financial trouble, this MASSIVE risk -which is what it has always been- might just be their downfall. And it’d be 100% their own fucking fault.
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Hawkins all lit up for Christmas is like something out of a postcard. It’s been a warm winter, which means big fat snowflakes piling up in fluffy drifts all over town, and string lights have been going up along every street and building to make the whole town look like a gingerbread fantasy.
Steve remembers it feeling a lot more magical when he was a kid, back when he didn’t have to shovel his car out of the drive or worry about winter tires. They don’t salt the back ways early enough in Hawkins, so on days like this, it always takes him longer to drive to work, going slow and cautious down the main roads, trapped in the Hawkins version of a traffic jam as everyone else does the exact same thing as him.
When he finally gets to the print shop, Donna McCorkle’s waving enthusiastically at him from the parking lot.
“Steven, honey! I’m so glad to see you out and about. I heard—” she leans in and whispers in a way that might actually be more conspicuous than yelling at the top of her lungs. “I heard about you and Laura. Sweetie, I’m so sorry, we all really thought you two would be taking a little stroll down the aisle by spring.”
“Thanks, Mrs. McCorkle,” Steve says. “I’m okay, honest. Just wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”
Jerry nods in greeting as Steve gets in and hangs up his winter coat. “Heya, Harrington. You’re six minutes late.”
“Sorry, boss,” grunts Steve, scraping off his boots.
“S’fine. Considering the circumstances and all. Just don’t get too hung up on her, eh, son? Can’t let some woman get you down. That’s no way for a man to live.”
“Right,” Steve says. “I’m okay, honest. Wasn’t meant to be.”
He shoves his lunch in the minifridge and heads out to his desk to check his messages.
———
He gets beers with Hopper after work. As soon as he slides into the booth, Hop raises a knowing eyebrow and snorts. “Folks around town been up your ass about the thing with Laura today?”
Steve groans. “Don’t even know how it got around so fast. We broke it off just yesterday, and I sure as hell didn’t tell anyone.”
Hopper nudges a bowl of peanuts his way. “Ah, you know how Hawkins is. People just want to see you doing well, kid.”
“People just need to mind their own damn business.”
Hopper’s face creases into a wry smile. The lines around his eyes seem to be getting deeper by the week. “They go a little overboard, sure. But come on, it’s nice knowing people care, ain’t it?”
“Sure.” Steve takes a long gulp of beer. “Nice.”
———
“I’m just—tired, Robbie,” he sighs into the phone. “Feels like I can’t walk down the street without running into someone trying to talk to me about the breakup.”
“It’s been coming for a while though, right? I mean, you’ve been talking about how you weren’t sure about her for a while. Like, actually way too long. Like this definitely should’ve happened six months ago.”
“I know, I know. But we were together for over a year, and it was…I dunno, nice. Easy. Felt like the thing to do. People are gonna start back up asking why I’m not married yet, ‘cause everyone else around here seems to be.”
Robin’s laugh crackles down the line, tinny and familiar. He presses the receiver tight against his face like it’ll bring Robin closer.
“Miss the hell out of you, Buckley. Can’t wait until you get back for Christmas.”
“Actually…” Even through the shitty line, he can tell Robin sounds a little nervous. “I was thinking. Well, me and Eddie were thinking. My folks aren’t going to be in Hawkins this year, they’re visiting my aunts in Vermont, and…we’ve got some friends here who are planning to just stay in the city for the holidays. So. What would you think, hypothetically, about coming here instead of me going there? It could be fun! You’ve only visited like twice, and you haven’t visited at all since I moved in with Eddie. You should come see our place, it’s pretty great.”
It’s true, he hasn’t made the trip out for a while. Robin and Eddie had been talking about moving in together for years, and last spring they’d finally found a place they liked. Steve had offered to drive up and help them move in, but their move-in date was Laura’s cousin’s wedding weekend, so that hadn’t worked out. And then it had just been easy to let his summer and fall get away from him, and just see Robin when she came back to Hawkins, because Eddie never comes back to Hawkins at all if he can help it.
Steve’s not avoiding Eddie. Of course he's not. There’s no reason for him to avoid Eddie, because the thing about Eddie is that there’s not a thing. There’s never been a thing.
But the lack-of-thing, the space where a thing could maybe have been, is something that’s followed Steve around for the last six years or so whether he likes it or not.
It’s not like he thinks about it every day, or anything like that. It’s just that—there was a moment, maybe, back in ‘87. He’d been smoking with Eddie outside in the miserable freeze of February. The grimy slush around them had been half-liquid in a way that was going to be trouble in the morning, after it'd had a chance to freeze over.
“If I asked,” Eddie had said, eyes fixed on the distant gray skies. “Would you come with me?”
Steve hadn’t had an answer, then. He’d thought he’d known, by that point, all the different ways he could be afraid, so it took him a second to recognize the feeling clawing its way up his ribcage and quickening his pulse. His tongue had felt thick and useless in his mouth.
Eddie’d just nodded once in a matter-of-fact way, and crushed his cigarette butt beneath the scuffed toe of his boot. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Harrington. I won’t ask.”
And then a week later he’d been gone. So it’s not like there was anything at all, not ever.
“Steve?” Robin’s voice is still kind of nervous. “What do you think? We’d both really love to see you.”
“Okay,” says Steve. “Sure. I’ll visit you guys for Christmas. Why the hell not?”
(continued here)
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