Welcome to a World Without Endings
Late last month, during yet another inexplicable rebranding exercise, HBO’s Max streaming service changed the way it organizes film credits. Rather than separate out discrete production categories for users to peruse, Max’s credits lumped writers and directors together under an ominous header, dubbing them “creators.” The recategorization enraged writers, filmmakers, and the Directors Guild of America. Within a few hours, Max’s parent company, Warner Bros., apologized for the move, calling it “an oversight in the technical transition from HBO Max to Max.”
The change—made by a company with a market cap that is approaching $30 billion during a contentious writers’ strike—felt petty and vindictive to Hollywood professionals. Max restructuring its credits was interpreted as the studios saying the quiet part out loud: that the craft and professional expertise who make . As fleeting controversies go, this one rather perfectly encapsulates the anxieties of our immediate technological moment—one where media, entertainment, and art are all shaped, and ultimately subsumed, by the infinite scroll.
