Over the years, Netflix has been the flagship of the at-home movie experience, transforming Friday nights into streaming events, and not box-office sprints. However, every so often, a project is encountered that feels too large, too rough and too steeped in the collective memory to fit within a living room screen. That is exactly what is going to happen with an upcoming adaptation of a beloved fantasy lore by C.S. Lewis by the hands of Greta Gerwig. Surprisingly, in a move that has not only caught not only Hollywood insiders but also casual moviegoers off guard, the streaming giant has confirmed that Gerwig Narnia: The Magician Nephew will enjoy a wide theatrical release next year to be shown exclusively on the big screen over a period of more than forty-five days before it ever gets to the platform. To a company that has based its empire on disrupting the traditional cinema, this choice feels more like a pivot and less like a silent confession that there are still some stories that require the collective hush of a darkened theater.
The only thing that is especially impressive about this announcement is the magnitude of the release. It is not the first time that Netflix experimented with limited theatrical releases, typically as a strategy to qualify to be a nominee in the Academy Awards. Those releases were frequently tentative, playing in only a handful of independent theaters in New York and Los Angeles long enough to qualify as having eligibility. The strategy is this time very different. The studio is also investing in a real wide release, which means that the audiences in the country and globally can share the same vision Gerwig has created. The movie will also be released in cinemas on February 12, and subscribers will finally be able to access the movie on April 2. That window is enormous by the current streaming standards, which give the theatrical run room time to breathe and build word-of-mouth momentum before the film transits to the digital domain.
The selection of the source material is also not a coincidence. Having redefined tentpole storytelling with her record-breaking Barbie, Gerwig is now focusing on the sixth book published in the series of the Chronicles of Narnia, but the first story in the internal timeline, The Magician’s Nephew. It discusses the extremely genesis of the magic land, starting with creation of the lamppost in the forest and the awakening of the White Witch. To the old time C.S. Lewis fans, this is the key that unlocks all the doors. It is a prequel which acts as a myth of creation, with rings that can take people between worlds and a young Digory Kirke long before he becomes the Professor. Gerwig indicates a desire to create something stratified and mythologically consistent not merely by repeating the hits.
As publicly presented, the internal logic of Netflix is founded on the generational and geographical scope of the Narnia franchise. The Chronicles have been translated into dozens of languages, and have been in print since more than seven decades. The same grandparents, who read the books to their children nowadays, watch the adaptations with their grandchildren. That sort of cross-generational draw alters the economics of a theatrical gamble. A romantic drama or an indie character study may not be worth the marketing cost of a wide release, but a Narnia film during the cold weeks of February, during school breaks in some areas, is a whole new ball game.
The proprietors of the theaters, whose most prized titles seem to be slowly being drained away by the streaming services, received the news with unquestionable relief. This is not a single movie on their cinema calendar. It is a confirmation that the largest streaming platforms do not deem irrelevant the overall experience of a movie theater. In a quote that expressed the tone of an industry that is often excluded in streaming-first discussions, Cinema United President Michael O’Leary said, “This is welcome news. Greta Gerwins Narnia: The Magicians Nephew is a movie that audiences are going to want to see on the big screen. Something softly poignant in that expression–the recognition that there had been a lack of opportunity, that there had been a silent denying of a choice by the audiences.
Strategically, this release is also a test of how much still remains of a premium fantasy beyond the superhero genre. The final big Narnia film was by Walden Media and Fox, and those films enjoyed an okay but bumpy run at the box office. This time, the mix of cultural cachet of Gerwig, and the global distributor muscle of Netflix place a different sort of bet. Gerwig has demonstrated that she can work with huge budgets without losing her authorial voice, and her intuition is to balance earnestness and sincerity with self-recognizing humor. That set of skills seems especially crucial to Narnia, a show that some younger audiences would see as about allegory and duty, as opposed to adventure. Who can make the White Witch feel as desirable as Margot Robbie in her Stereotyped Barbie, Gerwig is the one to do so.
Of course, there are open questions, which not even broad release can provide answers to. What will be the response of traditional exhibitors in case the film turns into a true hit? Will Netflix again use this strategy to make further Narnia movies, or will it be a one-time exemption accorded to a single film producer? And how can the unavoidable parallel with other streaming-first franchises, that had sought the jump to theaters with mixed success? The film by Gerwig enjoys the merits of an inbuilt literary fan club and a director whose name has come to be a genre in itself. However, wide release translates to wide expectations as well. A win would be regarded as a decent performance on streaming metrics. A good performance in multiplexes compared to the classical studio release puts a much higher threshold.
