It was the city’s coolest office party.
Maybe in years?
Exactly a decade after the term “binge-watch” first entered the lexicon (Oxford Dictionary tells me so), and “House of Cards” became Patient X in terms of the way we consume shows — opening a faucet, streaming-wise — Netflix CEO Ted Sarandos flew into Toronto last week to launch a new Canadian HQ for the media giant. A spiffy cathedral to all things Netflix in the sky. Atop the Well building on Spadina Avenue. Floor-to-ceiling windows, the spread of the lake and the neck of the CN Tower completing the decor.
The only question, perhaps: what took ’em so long?
Whatever the case, no ordinary cinq-à-sept was this — given the sheer celebrity density (the largest number of familiar faces assembled outside of a TIFF bash) and the fact that Prime Minister Trudeau himself appeared, wife Sophie in tow. As mini-butter tarts went around and drinks including one called the Arctic Mule were poured at this gathering of some 140 — others getting a kick out of a “Stranger Things”-styled pinball machine — what looked and sounded like a party belied what felt, in some ways, like a bilateral summit. And why not?
“We’re excited to have a new home here in Toronto and are looking forward to all of the great work to come with the talented people in this country,” Sarandos said in a toast, before a crowd that not only included stars Nina Dobrev and Noah Schnapp and Eric McCormack and others, local Netflix gatekeepers Danielle Woodrow and Tara Woodbury, but also a whole conga list of diplomats, including both the U.S. ambassador to Canada, David L. Cohen, and the Canadian ambassador to the U.S., Kirsten Hillman, acting Toronto mayor Jennifer McKelvie, ministers from Queen’s Park and, perhaps most notably to me, U.S. Senator Chris Coons. (Coons, as close political watchers know, is a superclose Biden ally in D.C. and often something of a surrogate for POTUS, not to mention the newly appointed chair of the Senate Judiciary Subcommittee on Intellectual Property.)
With more than 230 million subscribers worldwide, Netflix is bigger than most countries, after all. And the soft-spoken Sarandos the chap who made television global, all the while planting himself (together with his powerhouse wife, Nicole Avant) at the new “nexus of Hollywood, Silicon Valley, politics and philanthropy,” as Town and Country magazine once described.
The tango this eve of Trudeau and Sarandos? As someone who has long thought all parties are political, but especially at this level — who wants face-time? and why? who wants what from whom? — it got me thinking about the trajectories of both men.
Ted, the Arizona-raised son of an electrician, who famously quit school to work as a video store clerk and then managed a chain of stores, later landing a job in 2000 finding movies and shows for a fledgling DVD-by-mail company called — well — Netflix. Justin, the poster-boy of silver-spoon-ism who was literally born at 24 Sussex Drive when his dad was PM and who, after those well-documented days of teaching high school and snowboarding, eventually found his calling when he brought Trudeau 2.0 to Canada.
What a long decade it has been for both Gen-X men; 2013, a tipping point year for Sarandos, certainly, as I mentioned, in the way “House of Cards” (and later “Orange Is the New Black”) upended the entertainment ecosystem back then, making streaming a thing and causing Netflix then to boast that “the goal is to become HBO faster than HBO can become us.” (“House of Cards” was also the first online show to win Emmys, evidence of shifting tides and something kind of quaint to imagine now in our world of Hulus and Apples and Amazons and Disneys, when traditional broadcasters have streamers of their own and there is an avalanche of “content.”)
The power of Netflix? Clearly summed up by the breadth of deals that they have made since with mega-showrunners including Shonda Rhimes and Ryan Murphy, but also the Obamas and Harry and Meghan.
2013 in Trudeau-land was significant, too, if you recall: the year JT won the leadership of the Liberal party, therein setting the stage for his election as prime minister two years later. Besting the naysayers and the doubters, he has won three mandates in total since and, somehow — despite the winds of occasional scandal — ended up as the longest-lasting leader in the G7 (after the departure of Angela Merkel in Germany).
Power has a way of rusting, though — and nothing, of course, is static — which is why, too, both face their respective challenges 10 years later. Trudeau-wise, there is increasing ennui, and in some parts venom, about him staying on for a fourth election, with ministers including François-Philippe Champagne, responsible for Innovation, Science and Industry, increasingly being floated in the press as potential replacement leaders. Given the reaction to Trudeau at this party, though — hot comedian of the moment, Mae Martin, cheerfully posting a photo of herself with him, for example — I sense that an exit is not likely. Besides, parties like this show just how much Justin likes being prime minister.
“In his element,” a fellow celebrant told me later, reading the party tea-leaves, as the PM deftly posed for pics, too, with “Never Have I Ever” star Maitreyi Ramakrishnan. At just 51 — and a relatively young 51, at that — can Justin visualize himself not being prime minister anymore? That is probably the psychiatrist’s question. He obviously enjoys being in rooms like this.
For Sarandos, job security is hardly the issue … but things, for sure, are shifting in the streaming-verse. Though Netflix remains, by leaps and bounds, the Goliath in the industry and the churner of trends, there were titters last year when it announced that it had shed subscribers for the first time in a decade. With belt-tightening happening across the industry, and a correction clearly underway (a reaction to a whopping 599 scripted shows produced in 2022), the headlines lately tell the story. Vanity Fair: “Is the Party Over for Peak TV?” New York Times: “Streaming’s Golden Age Is Suddenly Dimming.”
There was also the news just the other day, meanwhile, that Netflix is pivoting to releasing fewer original movies, straying away from its schedule of releasing at least one movie a week and a restructuring that will also mean significant layoffs in its movie division. (Although, as most insiders will tell you, it remains a mission of Sarandos to nab that elusive Oscar for Best Picture, something Apple was able to best Netflix with when its film “CODA” became the first streamer to do so in 2021.)
All this, plus: there is a huge, impending writers strike set to happen any day, which could grind Hollywood to a halt as it did in 2008, putting most scripted shows on the skids. (The Writers Guild of America is set to hold a strike authorization vote next Tuesday, last we heard.)
On this side of the border, meanwhile? This party arrived just as Canada’s Parliament is readying to pass into law Bill C-11, a long-gestating revamp of the country’s media regulatory regime that will impose first-time rules on U.S. digital giants operating in the Canadian market.
Business … meet pleasure? Clearly. And just some of the tremors running beneath the grins and the schmooze at this recent Netflix office christening (the 35th one in the world) as stars of popular shows including “Ginny & Georgia” happily crossed paths with teen idols of yesteryear such as Jason Priestley, and the likes of Elisha Cuthbert caught up with Jay Baruchel. Hey, did I mention there was a Scoops Ahoy ice cream pop-up where some of the available toppings included — whoa — ketchup chips.
(Canadiana or bust!)
Bottom line: it was just the kind of party worth putting on pants for. Even, you might say, leaving your house, and your Netflix, to attend.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
does not endorse these opinions.