Hollywood's Extinction Event
Why Ryan Coogler's Deal Is the Future, Not the End
A recent piece in New York Magazine titled "Hollywood Execs Fear Ryan Coogler's Sinners Deal 'Could End the Studio System'" has been making its rounds, and eliciting the requisite reaction pieces decrying the extinction of something sacred. The article quotes anonymous studio executives lamenting Warner Bros.' decision to grant Ryan Coogler rights-reversion for his film Sinners after 25 years, with one exec dramatically claiming it "could be the end of the studio system." But here's the reality:
The studio system they're desperately trying to preserve is already dead.
The Digital Bottleneck Has Already Arrived
As Ross Douthat convincingly argues in his recent New York Times piece, we're living through what evolutionary biologists call a "bottleneck" — a period of rapid pressure threatening cultures, customs, and institutions with extinction. The digital revolution, especially with ubiquitous AI on the horizon, is forcing everything we take for granted through this narrowing passage, and only the most intentional and purposeful will survive.
This bottleneck has already hit Hollywood. The traditional studio model is faltering not because Ryan Coogler wants to own his art in 25 years(!), but because the foundations on which it was built have been crumbling for years:
Theatrical attendance has been in decline long before the pandemic
Streaming has fundamentally altered viewing habits
Social media and user-generated content compete for attention
Franchises dominate as original ideas struggle to find backing
Mid-budget films have all but disappeared
The executive quoted in the piece claims, "Studios exist for one simple reason: to build a library." First of all, can you imagine working in a creative industry and uttering these words? Stating on the record (albeit behind the veil of anonymity) that the only reason film studios exist is to control the creative works of artists for the next 100 years!?! This nameless exec would be better suited running a widget factory, or better yet, one of the seven Amazon fulfillment centers between LA and Coachella (drove out there last weekend…the IE is bleak).
But I digress. What’s more important is that his or her analysis of the market is as dusty as the desert. Studios were formed to create new films. Traditionally they created all kinds of them — big films, little films, and medium-sized film. Successful films allowed studios to invest in more infrastructure, to create more films, from more filmmakers.
When the bottleneck started, about 15 years ago with the onset of social media and Netflix streaming, studios stopped investing in new films, and instead poured that money into old films. Legacy IP that they could recycle and put an established director or actor on. It felt easier, less risky, and more profitable. But they were wrong.
The library-building approach—where studios indefinitely own and exploit creative works—belongs to the pre-digital era. It's a business model designed for scarcity, not abundance.
Why the Coogler Deal Is the Solution, Not the Problem
The future will be defined by abundance, where there is more stuff — information, content, intelligence — available at your fingertips that at any other time in human history. One way to react to this abundance will be to hoard, protect and defend. The alternative will be to harness, strategize, and deploy. As Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson write, we should fully embrace the latter.
If you look at the Coogler deal with open eyes accepting the dramatic shifting of an industry at large, and not through the defensive, protectionist eyes of Anonymous Exec Who Will Likely Be Laid Off In Eight Months, then you might see what the deal actually represents: an adaptation to the bottleneck, not its cause. In Douthat's framework, survival through the bottleneck "will depend on intentionality and intensity. Any aspect of human culture that people assume gets transmitted automatically, without too much conscious deliberation... is not going to make it."
Warner Bros., by making this deal with Coogler, is demonstrating exactly the kind of intentionality needed to survive:
They're investing in distinctive artistic vision. In an age where algorithms push content toward the middle, Coogler's "wild drama-thriller cum survival-horror flick set in Jim Crow–era Mississippi featuring blues-music set pieces, steamy sex scenes, Deep South occultism and dozens of Riverdancing vampires" stands out as something distinctly human, not algorithmically derived.
They're creating financial alignment with creators. By giving Coogler a stake in the long-term value of his work, they're incentivizing the creation of something lasting, not just something that performs well in its opening weekend.
They're building relationships based on respect, not exploitation. After the disastrous HBO Max streaming decision that drove away talent like Christopher Nolan, Warner Bros. is rebuilding trust with creators—a necessary step for any studio hoping to attract the best talent.
The executive who laments that the deal is "bad for filmmaking relationships" has it exactly backward. The old model where studios own everything in perpetuity while creators get a modest fee is what's truly bad for the studio system in 2025.
The Future Studio Model
said it perfectly:Hollywood at this moment should find every Ryan Coogler they can get their hands on, give them all the money they need and beg them to make films for them. Because it’s those films that are going to be the ones to turn around this creative rut we’re in before it sinks us all.
The future doesn't belong to studios that hoard IP rights forever. It belongs to those that:
Identify and invest in singular creative voices that can't be replicated by AI
Align financial incentives with those creators to produce work worth lasting decades
Build genuine partnerships instead of extractive relationships
Differentiate themselves from the algorithm-driven content ecosystem
When one executive complains that "Warners is outpaying everyone for everything," what they're really saying is that Warner Bros. is (a) recovering from a period of truly destructive leadership in which the studio alienated top talent, and (b) willing to bet on distinctive human creativity at a time when that's becoming increasingly rare and valuable.
As Douthat writes, survival through the digital bottleneck depends on people who are "deliberate and self-conscious and a little bit fanatical about ensuring that the things they love are carried forward." Warner Bros.' deal with Coogler represents exactly this kind of deliberate, intentional approach to preserving what makes cinema special.
The Real Extinction Event
The true extinction-level event for Hollywood isn't Coogler owning his work after 25 years—it's the industry's failure to adapt to the digital bottleneck by doubling down on what algorithms can't replicate: singular human vision.
The anonymous executives quoted in the NY Mag piece are like dinosaurs watching the meteor approach, complaining about a change in the weather. They don't see that their model was already dying, and that the Coogler deal represents one of the few paths forward.
In a world where AI will soon generate endless amounts of acceptable but soulless content, the real value will be in what only humans can make—art with a distinctive vision, personal stake, and cultural significance. Films like Sinners that feel like they could only have been made by one particular artist with a specific worldview.
Far from being "dangerous" for the industry, copyright-reversion deals like Coogler's might be the only way to ensure that distinctive human creativity continues to thrive in an age where algorithms and AI will otherwise flatten everything to the lowest common denominator. AI-generated remakes of every Marvel comic, Star Wars story, and Mattel toy are coming — and they are going to suck.
The studio system isn't dying because of Ryan Coogler. It's evolving because it has to. And those executives who can't adapt their thinking will be the only ones facing extinction.
loved this.
Well said.