Meghan and Harry arrive for one of their last official engagements at the Endeavour Awards in London. Video / AP
Hollywood is the home of second chances. Just ask Mel Gibson. Or Colin Farrell. Or take a look at M. Night Shyamalan's entire career. So, it's clear what Tinseltown had to offer the Sussexes when they moved in. Now that their reported US$150 million ($223 million) Netflix deal is public, the question is – what can the Sussexes offer Netflix?
The royal couple have founded a yet-to-be-named production company and will apparently produce "documentaries, docu-series, feature films, scripted shows and children's programming". Projects already in development include "an innovative nature docu-series and an animated series that celebrates inspiring women" – which sound… fine. But with Netflix spending billions to fend off competition from every major media company, is it enough?
In exchange for, say, an eight-parter about his favourite endangered species, will Prince Harry have to front a documentary about his mother on the coming 25th anniversary of her death? Will Meghan reboot Suits?
Absolutely not, the couple's press rep has told media. "Harry and Meghan may appear on camera in documentary programming, but she has no plans to return to acting."
What is sweet about that statement, says one former Netflix employee with knowledge of the recent deal between the streaming service and Barack and Michelle Obama, is that the Sussexes seem to think they can choose whether they'll appear on screen. The Netflix deal is effectively a retainer to ensure first-look exclusivity over any content the couple come up with; it's only when they actually get something commissioned that the real money arrives.
The Obama Model: Harry and Meghan are following in the footsteps of Barack and Michelle. Photo / Getty Images
Control lies with Netflix. So how many ideas will the streamer reject before the Sussexes risk invading their own privacy – one of the reasons cited for their leaving the royal family and away from the UK – for contractual reasons?
"What Netflix is keen on in any deal with an outsider is access," the former employee explains. "The company can send over a truck filled with cash to sign the right people, so Netflix has no problem getting directors, scriptwriters, producers and actors. What they'll want is the couple's contacts book.
"They might also find a good project that's already under way and have the couple add their brand. If they'd signed this deal a few years ago, I wouldn't put it past Netflix to have them introduce The Crown." And it's not too late to get the pair involved: the final, sixth series has yet to be filmed, and is expected to end with the death of Diana, Princess of Wales.
For an inkling as to how the Harry and Meghan deal may play out, we should look to the Obamas. Shows from that tie-up which have hit the screen include Becoming, a documentary following Michelle Obama on a book tour promoting her eponymous memoir; and American Factory, a documentary recording the culture clashes that followed a Chinese billionaire opening a factory in a former General Motors plant in Ohio. American Factory's directors Steven Bognar and Julia Reichert won the 2020 Oscar for best documentary feature, having started filming in 2015. The Obamas came on board after seeing the completed film at the Sundance Film Festival in 2019, just in time for Awards season.
Nonetheless, Netflix viewers searching for the film will also find American Factory: A Conversation with the Obamas, in which "Barack and Michelle Obama talk with directors Steve Bognar and Julia Reichart about the documentary and the importance of storytelling". According to Tom Harrington, TV analyst at Enders Analysis, expect Netflix to demand similar "making-of" spin-offs from the Sussexes. They will also be encouraged to talk up their projects on chat show sofas.
"While it's definitely true that the Sussexes need Netflix more than Netflix need the Sussexes, the value of the couple's brand is hugely useful to a service that has to launch new shows to a global audience of anywhere between half a billion to a billion," says Harrington. "It's very expensive to launch to that size audience. If you have a globally recognised face, it's a whole lot easier.
"The Sussexes are a brand connected to an even bigger brand. Just like buying the Derby winner the week before the race, Netflix can buy them some documentaries, have them sit around chatting on camera for an afternoon and make efficient use of their time."
In other words, Harry and Meghan may focus, in their own words, "on creating content that informs but also gives hope" as well as "making inspirational family programming" and sharing "impactful content that unlocks action" – but Netflix is focusing on its US$14.6 billion in debt, US$17 billion programme budget and long-term plan to raise the price of subscriptions. The Sussexes are there for the hard sell.
The Sussexes are the latest in a line of high profile names to sign to Netflix. Photo / Getty Images
The point is, Harrington explains, viewing has changed with the advent of Netflix and Amazon Prime. In the past, you'd flick through the channels, different stations would schedule against each other and you'd choose what to watch. Streaming services are not like channels.
"When you start looking at the programme carousel, they own you for a period of time – around seven to eight minutes – and they have to give you something to make you stay," Harrington explains. "Netflix needs big names and big projects to key people hooked and stop people dropping their subscription. There's a bundle of services out there, with Amazon, Hulu, Britbox and all the others. If you use Netflix more than the others, that's the one you'll pay for.
"The quickest way to make you click 'Play' is if there's a big name attached. So they're all fighting for famous faces. Netflix signing Harry and Meghan is like a studio signing Shirley Temple – having talent means holding on to subscribers."
So it's of little to concern to Netflix that the Sussexes have no proven track record as content creators; what they're after is their name in the credits and, ideally, in the programme title. While it's more common than you'd think for the US streaming behemoth to work with inexperienced producers, the process is usually more arduous if you don't have grandparents with their own navy.
Back in 2015, Australian filmmaker Tim Ryan, aka Gonzo, sold a series called Unplanned America to Netflix consisting of him and two mates, Nick Maher and Pawel Jarecki, spending Ryan's redundancy money on a six-month road trip across the US in a "barely roadworthy Toyota Corolla".
"We wanted to make a documentary series that took us deep into the country's bizarre subcultures, just like Louis Theroux without the British charm," he explains. "With the budget of literally five minutes of House of Cards, we travelled across an entire country and shot three whole seasons – we slept in tents on the side of highways and survived off some of the country's finest $1 fast food menus."
They edited the show on a dying MacBook, recorded voiceovers in a cleaner's storeroom and paid their sound mixer with a bottle of scotch. Eventually, they were spotted by Australian broadcaster SBS2, and the show was later picked up internationally by Netflix.
"This moment was particularly surreal," he recalls. "Our little DIY show was suddenly going to be streamed by people all around the world."
Selling three seasons of Unplanned – which has since moved to Amazon, for reasons Ryan prefers not to discuss, but which may include a financial incentive – allowed Ryan to move out of his parent's house to "a room above a sketchy bar. But surely everything in life is easier if you're a former prince of the realm, with the possible exception of the attention of the paparazzo".
The terms of Harry and Meghan's deal are under wraps but, according to US executives, involved in the couple's conversations with Disney and Apple, the Sussexes team were seeking a deal in the neighbourhood of US$100-$150 million ($149m-$223m).
The Royal family have dabbled in TV production before, of course. After staging an eye-wrenchingly bizarre It's A Royal Knockout in 1987, Prince Edward moved slowly into TV, setting up Ardent Production in 1993 with four elderly BBC executives and a promise that "you're not going to see a rush of royal programmes from Ardent. That's not the premise at all".
As losses mounted, however, Ardent embarked on a series called Royalty from A to Z, which included coverage of Prince William's student days at St Andrews. Except… the press had agreed to leave the student Prince alone and no one knew who the camera crew following him worked for. When they admitted to being Ardent, Prince Charles phoned his brother, called him an idiot and told him to stop. A few months later, Edward stepped away from the entertainment industry. According to Ardent's final balance sheet, investors were left with just $79.23.
Surely the Duke and Duchess of Sussex can't do any worse?
