Lost in the Sea of Streaming
How too many choices turn watching TV into a chore.
I spend all day hunched over my laptop fantasizing about the moment I can finally close it for the night. Visions of a steaming shower, clean pajamas, and a cozy evening in front of the TV taunt me as I stare off into the digital abyss of yet another Zoom meeting. Once five o’clock rolls around (or five thirty, six, six thirty, or seven — it depends on the day), I attempt to translate my daydream into reality. As always, it’s less magical than it was in my head, but the shower is still warm, the pajamas are comfy, and most importantly, the work is done. Now all that’s left for me to do is to curl up on the couch and complete the picture.
The problem is, I have nothing to watch. I don’t have a go-to narrative show at the moment (Mare of Easttown was the last thing I binged1), and I’ve exhausted almost all of my reality TV options (The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City serves up messy perfection every Wednesday, but what am I supposed to do on the other six days?2). As for movies, I’ve compiled an extensive ‘to watch’ list in my notes app, but when it comes time to actually pick one, I spend so long Googling each option that I fall asleep before I’ve made a decision. Or I just give up entirely and put on a YouTube video instead. On my worst days, I can’t even do that — I scroll until my eyes are bleary and wake up with my phone on my chest.
Kerry (roommate, brilliant friend, etc.) often accompanies me on this destinationless journey of choice paralysis, and she pointed out that one of our biggest obstacles to finding something to watch is focusing too much on what is “disqualifying” about our options. When browsing we tend to say, “oh this one’s too long,” or “this one might be sad,” or “this one’s only available for rent” etc. We worry that committing to a choice will leave us dissatisfied and wondering: was there something better that we missed?
Even when we do have an opinion, we hesitate to be the one to actually make the call. We don’t want to be responsible for each other's disappointment. Instead, we waffle somewhere in the noncommittal in-between (“I’m fine with whatever,” “it’s up to you,” etc.). Neither of us are leaders in that way; we don’t possess the gallantry it takes to make tough decisions — at least not when the enjoyableness of an evening is at stake.
Thankfully, Julia (honorary roommate, brilliant friend, etc.) does possess this quality, making her essential to the selection process. She has the ability to see things as they really are, which, in this case, means she understands that picking something to watch isn’t that big of a deal. We can always change it if we don’t like it — it’s not like we’re choosing a life partner or the name of our firstborn (although I swear sometimes it feels like it). This difference between us is incredibly valuable; it makes us a functional unit.
But Julia can’t be with us all of the time, and while I know my anxious brain is at least partially responsible for my choice paralysis, I think another factor is the overwhelming number of options we’re confronted with in today’s media landscape. With access to an endless stream of content, every decision is exhausting and dissatisfaction feels unforgivable. The constant addition of new streaming platforms exacerbates the oversaturation of the environment, and the daily ritual of choice becomes more and more burdensome. We are expected to navigate — and pay for — even more options and somehow be happier for it.
When I was a kid, the most I ever agonized over picking a movie was while shuffling through the aisles of Blockbuster or shivering outside 7-Eleven while surveying the local Redbox kiosk. But even then, my choices were limited, and so too was my agony. Now, the pervasiveness of on-demand content has stolen the joy from browsing entirely. There used to be something truly special about selecting a movie with your siblings to go along with your Friday night pizza and candy. It was a festive activity, a real treat to have control over what you watched. Today, it feels like all we do is control — ‘feels’ being the operative word here, I think we actually have far less control than we realize. Regardless, there is no longer the thrill of stumbling upon a movie marathon on TV or watching reruns of an old show just because it happens to be on. That spontaneity has evaporated — or at least, I thought it had.
One Friday night last year, while I was living at home, my dad flipped to one of the neglected cable movie channels. When Harry Met Sally (1989) was on — a classic I’d somehow never seen despite it being on my aforementioned ‘to watch’ list for ages (shameful, I know). I’d probably found some trivial reason to avoid ever giving it a try, but that night, with the choice all but made for us, we let it play. One by one, the rest of my family trickled to bed, but I stayed up until the credits rolled, completely content with the unplanned viewing.
I was about to go to my room when another movie started — Romeo + Juliet (1996) starring Leonardo Dicaprio and Claire Danes. I’d seen it before, but something about catching it on TV made me unreasonably excited. “Oh, I love this movie! I haven’t seen it in so long!” I think I even exclaimed out loud. I was completely swept up in the thrill of the automaticity; it felt like I’d discovered a lost art, as if the movie channel were an artifact I’d dusted off to find surprisingly still useful. Once again, I stayed up until the final title card, tempted to see what would come on next. Eventually, though, I dragged myself to bed. Parting, it seems, really is such sweet sorrow.
The next morning brought a revelatory dawn; it felt as though I’d been reunited with a younger version of myself — the one who obsessively collected DVDs and followed the Oscars race as if it were a matter of presidential importance (aka the one who actually watched movies). It had been so long since I’d seen her, since I’d allowed myself to become immersed in her imaginative worlds. I laughed, ‘All this over…the cable movie channel?’ Yep. It’s ridiculous, but true. Something about the surrender it demanded brought me an immense amount of peace. It permitted me to enjoy without judgment, to be freed from the crushing pressure of my own decisions.
This may sound a bit melodramatic (as is often my way), but I don’t think I’m alone in my desire for a return to simplicity. You may recall Netflix’s shuffle feature — also known as the 'Surprise Me' or 'Play Something' button — that was introduced in 2021 to “help users find new content without having to manually browse the menus.” It was discontinued in 2023, but the rollout of such a feature highlights the fact that streaming platforms are aware that the model that made them so revolutionary is starting to work against them.
As a result, we’re seeing a broader return to cable-era models across nearly all on-demand content platforms. HBO, for example, never fully let go of some of its more cable-esque elements (weekly episode releases being a prime example), which has helped it stay culturally relevant in the oversaturated streaming environment. Many other platforms are now following suit, trying to turn content that was once available to binge into synchronized media events. There's also a sweeping reversion to traditional advertising, which, while primarily aimed at securing sustainable revenue rather than enhancing the user experience, is notable for the way it harkens back to the conventional television-watching experience.
I suppose I take all of this to mean that, as usual, there are invisible forces at work that influence the way we feel and the things we do. I’m sometimes so self-centered that I forget not everything is up to me. Even though it feels like I’m solely responsible for my happiness (and in many ways, I am — don’t get me wrong), free will isn’t always the most helpful or even the most important factor. I’m not really sure where this leaves me in terms of what to watch, but at least I can feel a little better about my indecision. Maybe it's not about choosing the 'right' thing to watch anyway — or even about choosing at all. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that sometimes too much choice makes choosing impossible (what a mouthful), and it’s better to simply flip to the movie channel and see what’s on.
I highly recommend by the way. Kate Winslet is my most recent on-screen obsession.
Since writing this, the girls and I have taken up watching Welcome to Plathville, a true TLC masterpiece. If you love reality TV about dysfunctional families shrouded in darkness, this show might be for you.
Too real❣️You’re always able to perfectly put things I’m experiencing in real time into words