Latest news with #HenryCavill
Daily Mail
a day ago
- Business
- Daily Mail
Games Workshop to open new stores in US, Europe and Asia this year after Space Marine 2 success
Games Workshop is plotting dozens of new store launches around the world after the Warhammer creator's profits were supercharged by the launch of 'Space Marine 2'. The group cheered a record 2025 on Tuesday with pre-tax profits soaring by nearly 30 per cent to £262.8million, beating guidance of £255million, as sales jumped 19.6 per cent on a constant currency basis to £628.7million. It came as licencing revenues jumped from £31million to £52.5million after Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine 2, a third-person shooter video game launched last year, performed 'well above' the group's expectations with seven million copies sold. Games Workshop is best known in the UK for its tabletop miniatures and high street stores across the country. But it has increasingly moved into video games and books, and a film and TV deal with Amazon that was finalised last December and is expected to be fronted by Superman actor Henry Cavill. Games Workshop cautioned that the next 12 months would suffer tough comparisons owing to the success of Space Marine 2, while the group thinks tariffs could impact profit before tax by around £12million. It said tariffs would be 'dealt with in our normal pragmatic way'. Nevertheless, Games Workshop outlined plans to boost manufacturing capacity and said it aims to open around 35 new stores globally over the next year. These are set to be focused on North American, continental Europe and Asia. The Nottingham-based firm's chief executive Kevin Rountree, CEO of Games Workshop said: 'After a record year, we remain focused on delivering our operational plans and working tirelessly to overcome any significant obstacles that get in the way. 'We will continue to give ourselves the freedom to make some mistakes, constantly working on improvements in product quality and manufacturing innovation. 'Despite our recent successes we will never take our hobbyists' support for granted.' Games Workshop declared and paid dividends worth 520p per share last year, up from 420p in the previous 12 months. Games Workshop shares were up 5.6 per cent to 16,110p approaching midday, having more than doubled over the last three years.
Yahoo
a day ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Games Workshop's annual profit soars on flagship Warhammer game sales
By Yamini Kalia (Reuters) -British miniature wargames maker Games Workshop on Tuesday posted a nearly 30% jump in annual pre-tax profit, thanks to robust sales of its flagship Warhammer 40,000 game. The company, known for its premium, in-house produced fantasy miniatures, has built a cult-like following for Warhammer, which has expanded into video games, books and a film and TV deal with Amazon that was finalised last December. The flagship science-fantasy universe will be brought to screens via a live-action series from Amazon Studios. Henry Cavill, the British actor who played Superman and is a fan of Warhammer, has said he will be involved in the project. Games Workshop's Space Marine 2 video game, released last September, has also been a commercial success with more than 7 million copies sold. Games Workshop reported pre-tax profit of 262.8 million pounds ($350.79 million) for the year ended June 1, up from 203 million pounds the year before. Shares of the company were up 4.1% at 15,880 pence by 0816 GMT. "We have been pretty solid during the year managing our cash costs and investments," the company said in a statement. "The exception was the news about tariffs and the cute looking pipistrelle bat that is delaying our work on our new temporary car park," it added. The Nottingham-based games designer forecast a tariff impact of about 12 million pounds on its pre-tax profit in the current fiscal year and a 2% impact on gross margin in the following year. However, Games Workshop said it was "business as usual" for the firm, which already has a U.S. corporate entity and is investing in its Memphis base. Peel Hunt analysts expect the company's strong performance to continue, despite its vulnerability to tariffs, a stronger pound and a tough comparative period due to the exceptional success of Space Marine 2 last year. ($1 = 0.7492 pounds) Error in retrieving data Sign in to access your portfolio Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data
Reuters
a day ago
- Business
- Reuters
Games Workshop's annual profit soars on flagship Warhammer game sales
July 29 (Reuters) - British miniature wargames maker Games Workshop on Tuesday (GAW.L), opens new tab posted a nearly 30% jump in annual pre-tax profit, thanks to robust sales of its flagship Warhammer 40,000 game. The company, known for its premium, in-house produced fantasy miniatures, has built a cult-like following for Warhammer, which has expanded into video games, books and a film and TV deal with Amazon (AMZN.O), opens new tab that was finalised last December. The flagship science-fantasy universe will be brought to screens via a live-action series from Amazon Studios. Henry Cavill, the British actor who played Superman and is a fan of Warhammer, has said he will be involved in the project. Games Workshop's Space Marine 2 video game, released last September, has also been a commercial success with more than 7 million copies sold. Games Workshop reported pre-tax profit of 262.8 million pounds ($350.79 million) for the year ended June 1, up from 203 million pounds the year before. Shares of the company were up 4.1% at 15,880 pence by 0816 GMT. "We have been pretty solid during the year managing our cash costs and investments," the company said in a statement. "The exception was the news about tariffs and the cute looking pipistrelle bat that is delaying our work on our new temporary car park," it added. The Nottingham-based games designer forecast a tariff impact of about 12 million pounds on its pre-tax profit in the current fiscal year and a 2% impact on gross margin in the following year. However, Games Workshop said it was "business as usual" for the firm, which already has a U.S. corporate entity and is investing in its Memphis base. Peel Hunt analysts expect the company's strong performance to continue, despite its vulnerability to tariffs, a stronger pound and a tough comparative period due to the exceptional success of Space Marine 2 last year. ($1 = 0.7492 pounds)
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
James Gunn's Superman launches a universe, not a character
The following contains spoilers for Superman. Back in 2013, Zack Snyder ended his divisive Man Of Steel with a scene that teased a brighter future: Henry Cavill's newly debuted Superman slips on some thick-framed glasses, walks into his first day at The Daily Planet, and shakes hands with a Lois Lane who already knows his secret identity. It's a concept the rest of the increasingly convoluted DCEU never really took advantage of (Clark wound up battling Batman and becoming a zombie instead). But it's notable that James Gunn's new Superman reboot starts by picking up that abandoned thread. If you ignore the change in actors, tone, and costuming—and the addition of one ill-trained superdog—Gunn's Superman could almost be a direct follow-up to that Man Of Steel epilogue. As the movie opens, David Corenswet's Clark Kent has been operating as Superman for three years. He's got some prestige at The Daily Planet thanks to his exclusive 'interviews' with his own alter ego. And he's three months into a relationship with a Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan) who knows he's a superhero. Finally, a modern Superman movie that explores what it's like to try to live a normal life when you also happen to be the strongest man on Earth! Except, while Gunn's sunny, optimistic take is a breath of fresh air compared to the grim and gritty Snyderverse that preceded it, it doesn't really take advantage of its own setup any more than that Man Of Steel epilogue did. We only see Clark in his bumbling, glasses-wearing reporter persona for about three minutes before that thread is dropped entirely. And for a movie about a guy whose main superpower is being invulnerable, Corenswet's Superman spends a weirdly large amount of the runtime writhing on the floor in pain while others handle the heroism. Though Superman may bear one hero's name, it's clear Gunn is as enthralled with launching a shiny new hero-filled DC Universe as he is telling a Superman story in particular—which, ironically, is the same problem the last DCEU ran into. (Gunn took over as the co-chairman of DC Studios in 2022, and this is the first movie in his relaunched cinematic universe.) The film's opening text informs the audience that we're in a world where 'metahumans' have existed on Earth for 300 years, which makes Superman just one of many powered-people on the hero scene. That's good news for those who have longed to see Hawkgirl (Isabela Merced), Mister Terrific (Edi Gathegi), and Guy Gardner's Green Lantern (Nathan Fillion) on the big screen; less so for those who just want a fresh, clean take on The Last Son Of Krypton. Gunn clearly wants his new DC Universe to feel like stepping into a comic book, which it very much does. Only, it's more like the middle issue of a massive crossover event than a true entry point. In fact, with so many metahumans running around, Superman sometimes feels more like an X-Men movie with an amped-up role for Cyclops. There are outlines of a unique hero's journey here: Superman debates geopolitics with Lois! He gets canceled online! He grapples with his heritage! He makes terrible strategic decisions! He literally fights a cloned version of himself! Yet none of those ideas are strung together in a particularly meaningful or insightful way because the movie keeps getting distracted by interdimensional portals and wacky side players instead of the emotional arc of its leading man. The impulse to pile on comedic characters and sketch them out just enough served Gunn well in ensemble romps like The Suicide Squad and his Guardians Of The Galaxy trilogy, but it winds up hurting him here. To squeeze in as many DC characters as possible, Nicholas Hoult's power-hungry Lex Luthor gets two superpowered henchmen, two vapid girlfriends (both end up incarcerated), an army of robots, a team of both human and monkey hackers, a sky-high command center, a secret pocket dimension prison, a kaiju deployment team, and an Eastern European political ally. But what he doesn't have is a scene that establishes or explores his motivation beyond a simple, spoken aloud obsession with taking down Superman because he's jealous of him. (Hoult tries his best to add some emotional layers, but in a world filled with metahumans, Lex's personal grudge doesn't land as strongly.) Though you'd think skipping the classic Superman origin story would leave the film and its hero with more room to breathe, Gunn fills the extra screentime with more DC world-building instead—like the aforementioned 'Justice Gang' trio and their under-explained assortment of powers. (Hopefully you already know what a Green Lantern ring does.) In fact, there's really only one scene in the whole movie that takes the time to just let its leads meaningfully interact with each other, and that's when Clark agrees to let Lois interview him 'on the record' as Superman. There are some promising ideas at play in the charged exchange that follows. Clark is an earnest do-gooder—he stepped in to stop a brutal invasion in a foreign country—but also woefully naïve when it comes to how that action might be perceived politically. (No wonder he has to keep interviewing himself to keep his journalism job.) The more jaded, cynical Lois is worried that her boyfriend's almost childlike sense of optimism might make them fundamentally incompatible as a couple. But once the movie introduces that dilemma, it doesn't circle back around to resolve it. Though the scene would seem to set up Lois and Clark's relationship as the heart of the film, in the end she's got less to do than Superman's dog Krypto. Instead of dealing with questions of interventionism, Clark gets pulled into a sideplot involving a shapeshifting dad named Metamorpho (Anthony Carrigan) and his kidnapped CGI baby. Instead of grappling with the dynamics of her new relationship, Lois winds up briefly teaming up with the Justice Gang before being sidelined with a Daily Planet supporting crew that includes Perry White (Wendell Pierce), Steve Lombard (Beck Bennett), and Cat Grant (Mikaela Hoover). They're characters who each get about a line of dialogue before Lois has to inexplicably fly them all around in a shuttle. And for some reason, Jimmy Olsen (Skyler Gisondo) is the one who does all the actual reporting for her big story. Comedically, the film does gain something by dropping us right into the comic book deep end. It's funny to watch Clark exasperatedly worry about his dog while the Justice Gang fights a giant monster outside his window. And there's a cocky confidence to having a drunken Supergirl (Milly Alcock) randomly drop in ahead of her own movie debuting next summer. But the goofy nonchalant world-building also robs this story of a bit of its humanity, which is ironic when humanity winds up being so central to the film's climax. Like Man Of Steel before it, Superman is ultimately a movie about Clark's heritage and how it shapes his heroism. Where Cavill's Supes saw himself as an alien living among men, this Superman's arc is about learning to see himself as a human who just happens to have an alien origin story. It's a clever pivot from the last DCEU set-up, although—like so many elements of this overstuffed story—the emotional details are a bit glossed over. Gunn delivers an impressively bold twist to comics canon with the reveal that Clark's Kryptonian parents (Bradley Cooper and Angela Sarafyan) sent him to Earth with the intention of conquering and ruling it. That's when Clark realizes that his real parents are the humans who raised him to be a good person, not the biological parents he only knows via hologram. Yet despite their ultimate importance, Gunn introduces Ma and Pa Kent (Neva Howell and Pruitt Taylor Vince) as sitcom-y Southern hicks who pop in for a quick phone call and then disappear for the first two acts of the movie. (They must have gotten their accents from the Alabama side of Kansas.) Pa Kent eventually gets to deliver a big inspirational speech to send Clark into the movie's climax, but why not make his dynamic with his son more central before that? Why not explore the origins of Superman's wholesome optimism rather than just relying on Corenswet's charm to sell it? Why spend more time mocking bumbling blonde Eve Teschmacher (Sara Sampaio) than getting to know Clark outside of his supersuit? A finale in which a superhero literally has to fight another version of himself is the sort of thing that should have some thematic resonance (and it did, back in Superman III). Here it feels like just one more wacky comic book plot twist. In some ways, Gunn's sunnier Superman is a change of pace from what the DCEU offered before, but in others it's just more of the same. (Not to mention a lesser version of The CW's similarly optimistic take on the character played by Tyler Hoechlin in Supergirl and Superman & Lois.) Gunn's goal may not be to literally introduce supporting characters in order to give them solo properties later, like the infamous Batman V Superman. But the result of prioritizing universe-building over character-focused storytelling is the same. Superman successfully launches a new tone and ethos for DC. It just doesn't launch Superman. 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Express Tribune
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Express Tribune
THE END OF AN ERA?
Back in the mid-2010s, when the idea of 'binge-watching' was still novel, you could impress someone you met at a party by saying you watched Black Mirror. The streaming service Netflix had already changed how people rented movies—killing Blockbuster with the casual cruelty of convenience—but now, it wanted to change what people watched. By the time Stranger Things dropped in 2016, the game had already changed. The show, with its mix of Spielbergian nostalgia and synth-scored sci-fi, hit audiences like a cultural bomb. Kids dressed up as Eleven for Halloween. Adults argued over the ethics of what happened in the Upside Down. Netflix had hit a bullseye. And more importantly, it had found its business model: make people stay subscribed, not just for content, but for connection. Fast forward to 2025. Stranger Things is nearing its final season. Squid Game, the Korean thriller that became a global parable about class, is also wrapping up. And the streamer, now sitting atop a global empire of 270+ million subscribers, faces the kind of existential question that haunts legacy studios and tech giants alike: What happens when your biggest hits stop hitting? Shows like Stranger Things, The Crown, The Witcher, and Squid Game weren't just were global cultural events, they brought in millions of subscribers, shaped social media discourse, and most importantly justified Netflix's spendthrift content budget to nervous investors. The blockbusters that built the brand Stranger Things wasn't Netflix's first original hit—but it was the one that felt tectonic. House of Cards and Orange Is the New Black had kicked off the 'prestige streaming TV' era, giving Netflix credibility in awards circuits and pop culture columns. But Stranger Things was different. It had meme power. Fandom. Merchandising potential. It was a world that extended beyond the screen—and into Funko Pops, comic cons, and even retro-style video games. By the time Season 4 dropped in 2022, it had clocked over 1.3 billion hours of viewing — making it Netflix's second most-watched English-language series ever, only behind Wednesday. Kate Bush's 1985 track 'Running Up That Hill' became a Gen Z anthem nearly 40 years later, charting in multiple countries — a symbol of how a single show could ripple through pop culture, music charts, and fashion. Then came The Witcher, with its CGI monsters and Henry Cavill's brooding charisma. Adapted from Polish fantasy novels and games, the show became Netflix's answer to HBO's Game of Thrones—minus the incest and prestige polish. Though critically uneven, it made money globally. But nothing prepared anyone for Squid Game. Then came Squid Game. Released with minimal fanfare in 2021, the South Korean thriller became an overnight global phenomenon. Within 28 days, 111 million accounts had tuned in. It wasn't just the most-watched Netflix show in history at the time — it reshaped the perception of international content. It proved that language was no longer a barrier; if the story was good enough, audiences would follow. It tapped into a pandemic-era malaise: economic anxiety, social isolation, the sense that we were all playing some perverse, rigged game. Netflix reported that 142 million households had watched it in the first month. It became the platform's biggest show ever at the time, helping to stem a slowdown in growth and proving the viability of non-English language content in global markets. While Stranger Things and Squid Game were pop-cultural tsunamis, they weren't alone in making Netflix what it is. The Crown lent prestige and awards legitimacy. Bridgerton brought in the romance crowd with period drama and redefined inclusivity in costume storytelling. The Witcher pulled in fantasy lovers post-Game of Thrones. Money Heist (La Casa de Papel), a Spanish-language crime thriller, became a bankable brand globally, despite originally being a flop on Spanish TV. Even lighter fare like Emily in Paris, Outer Banks, or reality TV hits like Love is Blind and Too Hot to Handle drove viewership numbers and kept the content wheel spinning between prestige projects. Netflix had a machine: fund broadly, promote smartly, find a breakout, ride the wave, and double down. But as the biggest shows begin to sunset, the cracks in the model are becoming visible. The problem with blockbusters Unlike linear TV, which offered seasons year after year at regular intervals, Netflix binge-dumped content. Stranger Things seasons dropped two years apart. Squid Game took even longer to follow up. In between, Netflix relied on a pipeline of content to keep subscribers around — a gamble that became harder as competition intensified. Enter Disney+, HBO Max, Apple TV+, and Amazon Prime — all offering their own prestige fare, some with legacy franchises (Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones), others with buzzy new titles (Severance, The Bear, The Boys). Suddenly, Netflix was no longer the only game in town. Worse still, the streamer's own release model may have backfired. Releasing an entire season in one go made for headlines, memes, and cultural moments — but those moments were fleeting. Compare that to HBO's week-to-week strategy, which allowed Succession, Euphoria, and The Last of Us to dominate conversations for months. Netflix's shift from a growth-at-all-costs model to a more mature, revenue-focused one was inevitable. With subscriber growth slowing in North America and Europe, and saturation looming in mature markets, the company has introduced ads, cracked down on password sharing, and flirted with licensing content to others — all moves that would've seemed blasphemous five years ago. These aren't signs of desperation so much as maturation. But they do signal the end of a certain kind of Netflix era — the one defined by wild experimentation and blank-check funding for passion projects. Remember when Netflix gave the creators of Game of Thrones $200 million to make The Three-Body Problem? Or funded Martin Scorsese's $160 million The Irishman? Today, Netflix is far more surgical. And that could be good — or very bad — for riskier storytelling. So what does Netflix have coming up to replace its aging giants? First, there's the second season of Squid Game, a high-stakes gamble if ever there was one. Series creator Hwang Dong-hyuk returns, but can lightning strike twice? The sleeper hit had the advantage of novelty and zero expectations. Season two carries the weight of history. Then there's One Piece, the anime adaptation that shocked skeptics with its success. A second season is confirmed, and if it continues to grow, Netflix may have a long-running franchise on its hands. Wednesday, the gothic teen spin-off of The Addams Family, became the most-watched English-language series in Netflix history. With Tim Burton and Jenna Ortega returning for Season 2, it's arguably Netflix's biggest active asset now. Also in development are adaptations of The Chronicles of Narnia, fresh Avatar: The Last Airbender content (after a lukewarm start), and another round of The Witcher, albeit without Cavill. These all carry potential — but also risk. The 'middle show' crisis One of Netflix's quieter dilemmas is what insiders call the 'middle show' crisis. While top shows get massive budgets and marketing, and cheap reality shows get renewals because they're inexpensive to produce, mid-budget, quality series often fall through the cracks. Critically loved shows like Mindhunter, Glow, Archive 81, and 1899 were cancelled despite strong fanbases. The algorithm, it seems, doesn't reward slow builds. Netflix has trained audiences to look for the next big thing — but that leaves little room for cult hits to grow organically. This is where competitors are gaining ground. Apple TV+ is patient and prestige-focused, willing to let shows like Slow Horses or For All Mankind build over time. HBO has decades of reputation in nurturing quality. Even Amazon is doubling down on genre bets and global reach. Netflix, in contrast, sometimes seems caught in its own system: make everything available, see what pops, cut the rest. Is Netflix currently the place for prestige drama? Bingeable fluff? Global storytelling? True crime? Live events? The platform's breadth is unmatched, but with that comes dilution. Disney+ has Marvel and Star Wars. HBO has high-end drama. Prime has genre and scale. Apple has polish. Netflix… has everything, but stands for less. Yet there's a problem with lightning-in-a-bottle shows: they don't last forever. Stranger Things is bowing out with its fifth and final season. The kids have grown up. The charm of '80s nostalgia is wearing thin. Squid Game's creator, Hwang Dong-hyuk, always intended it as a critique of the very systems that made it a commercial juggernaut. Even The Witcher has lost its lead actor, Cavill, and faces declining buzz with each season. So what is Netflix doing to prepare for life after its flagship titles? The answer, predictably, is a little of everything. But whether it sticks is another question. The franchise factory approach In recent years, Netflix has shifted strategy. Rather than hope for breakout hits, it's trying to build franchises intentionally. That's meant spinoffs (like Stranger Things: The First Shadow, a prequel stage play, and potential animated series), sequels (Extraction 2, Enola Holmes 2), and universe-building (The Witcher: Blood Origin, though critics would rather forget it existed). It's also meant poaching talent and IP from traditional Hollywood. Deals with the Duffer Brothers (Stranger Things creators), Shonda Rhimes (Bridgerton, Inventing Anna), and Ryan Murphy (Dahmer, The Watcher) were meant to lock in brand-name storytellers. But results have been mixed. Shonda's Bridgerton universe continues to deliver, especially in international markets. Murphy's shows rack up views, but rarely become cultural events. Netflix has also bet big on international hits — Korean dramas, Japanese anime, Indian thrillers, Spanish heist sagas (Money Heist was a phenomenon). In 2023 alone, Netflix spent over $1 billion on Korean content. It's a smart hedge: local-language shows with global appeal often deliver better ROI than expensive American productions. But is any of it iconic? Does it break through the noise like Squid Game did? Not quite yet. Algorithms don't create magic Netflix's advantage, and maybe its Achilles heel, is its data. It knows what people watch, when they stop, what thumbnail makes them click. This has led to a model of commissioning content that feels more like market research than art. The result is a sprawling catalogue of 'good enough' shows: entertaining, formulaic, and largely forgettable. Think of the dozens of crime thrillers, rom-coms, and reality dating shows that get a weekend spike, trend for two days, then disappear into the abyss of the 'More Like This' section. Critics call this the 'content treadmill.' It's not about making hits. It's about making enough to keep churn low and engagement high. But this risks turning Netflix into a utility — like cable TV — rather than a tastemaker. In contrast, HBO (now Max) still tries to brand itself as a curator. Apple TV+ has a leaner slate but wins Emmys. Disney+ rides the strength of 80 years of IP. Netflix has volume, but volume doesn't inspire devotion. Live sports, ads, and the YouTube pivot In 2022, Netflix launched an ad-supported tier. This marked a seismic shift in its business model, long held up as the 'no ads' disruptor. But with subscriber growth plateauing in key markets, the company needed new revenue streams. The next frontier? Live content. Netflix has started dabbling in live comedy specials (Chris Rock: Selective Outrage) and is reportedly exploring sports rights. It recently struck a deal with WWE to stream Monday Night Raw starting in 2025. This is less about prestige, more about stickiness. Sports and live events bring consistent, appointment-based viewership — something Netflix has never had. There's also a move toward interactive and short-form content. Bandersnatch tested interactive storytelling. Korean Physical: 100 shows how global reality TV can cross borders. The streamer even acquired game studios and is quietly developing mobile games tied to its IP—hoping that users won't just watch Squid Game, but play it. If this all sounds like a pivot toward being a hybrid of YouTube, cable TV, and Xbox — it kind of is. One thing Netflix still lacks is its own massive IP universe. Disney has Marvel. Warner has DC. Amazon has The Lord of the Rings. Netflix's biggest assets (Stranger Things, Squid Game, Bridgerton) are original, but don't have the longevity of 60-year-old comic book characters or fantasy epics. It tried to fix this by spending lavishly. The $200 million The Gray Man franchise (with Ryan Gosling and Chris Evans) was meant to be the next Bond. It didn't quite land. The $450 million acquisition of Knives Out sequels promised a new detective franchise—only for the second film, Glass Onion, to burn hot and fast, then disappear. When you don't own the underlying IP, you don't own the future. And Netflix, for all its streaming dominance, is still renting its place in the culture. What next? The question isn't just what shows come next—it's what kind of company Netflix wants to be. Does it double down on prestige? Go full global? Turn into an interactive tech platform with games and live events? To survive post-Stranger Things, it might have to do all of the above. Already, Netflix is releasing more reality TV (Love Is Blind, Too Hot to Handle), more animated fare (Arcane, The Dragon Prince), more docu-series (The Tinder Swindler, Beckham, American Nightmare). It's diversifying, not in the name of art, but insurance. But the real answer might lie in how it nurtures the next wave of talent. The next Squid Game won't be found by an algorithm. It will come from some obscure writer in Seoul, or Karachi, or São Paulo, with a story that cuts through noise and speaks to this chaotic, collapsing, post-pandemic world. The hits of Netflix's past were surprising, risky, plain weird even. BoJack Horseman, Dark, Sex Education, Russian Doll. The next era of Netflix might require less strategy and more instinct. Because you can build a business on data. But culture? That still takes vision.
