THE INSTANT GRATIFICATION PROJECT
Video on demand is a live option for 6 million households, thanks
to a little company called Intertainer and some bold folks in, of
all places, Cincinnati.
By James Lardner
For sheer cockiness, the business plan that Jonathan Taplin hatched
with two friends in the summer of 1996 ranked right up there. Intertainer,
as they named their company, promised nothing less than instant
access to a vast electronic storehouse of movies, documentaries,
and other fare, right from your own home. A couple of clicks and,
to hear Taplin tell it, you could be watching Almost Famous or Ken
Burns's jazz series or the latest Eric Clapton video or the final
game of the 1975 World Series, all with the VCR-like ability to
interrupt the show whenever you felt like going out for a beer.
The basic idea, called video on demand, or VOD, had been knocking
around for years, as had Taplin himself. He was in his mid-40s --
almost his dotage, by the entrepreneurial standards of the Internet
Age -- and he had suspiciously close ties to the entertainment industry
establishment. He conceded nothing to his juniors, however, when
it came to evangelical fervor. And indeed, if you stop to think
about what home entertainment is and what VOD could be, the implications
are dizzying. Such things as channels and schedules could eventually
wither away. The whole idea of "watching TV" -- that is,
turning on the set and seeing what's "on" -- could come
to be regarded as a peculiar and slovenly habit of the medium's
early days.
But if the promise was huge, so were the obstacles. Other companies,
notably Time Warner (AOL) (parent of Business 2.0), had tried and
failed to turn the idea into a business. In addition to a tangle
of feasibility questions, both economic and technological, Intertainer
would meet intense resistance from many quarters of the entertainment
world. Fully four years after its launch, the company was running
tiny trials involving a few hundred people each -- a rate of progress
that led experts to conclude that the technology was far from ready
for prime time. "Come back in 10 years," the Economist
pronounced as recently as June.
Little noticed by the skeptics, however -- or by anyone else --
Taplin & Co. pressed on, moving from trials to full-scale deployments
in Cincinnati, Denver, Minneapolis, Phoenix, Salt Lake City, Seattle,
and Portland, Ore. In mid-October, the company announced an agreement
with Microsoft's MSN (MSFT) network that makes VOD a live option
for an estimated 6 million Americans -- basically, anyone living
in one of the 35 largest media markets in the country and possessing
a broadband Internet connection of 580 kilobits per second or better.
For a monthly fee of $7.99, you get a basic allotment of TV shows,
children's programming, and music videos, plus the ability to watch,
for $3.99 apiece, any of more than 200 movies old and new -- a rotating
selection from a library of some 75,000 hours of licensed content.
That's now, not 10 years from now.
It's anybody's guess, of course, how many people will pay for the
service, and how soon. But Intertainer has proven, at least, that
its technology works, and it has given the world a first tantalizing
taste of VOD's potential. And if the idea catches on from here,
history will record that it began with no Napster-like storming
of the establishment battlements, no hockey-stick adoption curves,
and, significantly, no lawsuits from the content providers. For
all the grandeur of their vision, Taplin and his associates have
shaped their plans to be as nonthreatening as possible to the entrenched
powers of the entertainment world. Success, if it comes to them,
will be the result of gentle prodding and patient persuasion as
much as anything. This will be a case study, in short, in revolution
as an inside job.
"The problem with being an independent producer is that you're
not in control of your destiny," Taplin is saying. He's a large
man with blond hair, a gray-speckled blond beard, tortoiseshell glasses,
and two nattily loafered feet that are resting on a wide desk in his
office in Culver City, Calif., a short hop from the headquarters of
Fox, MGM, and Sony. The office, like the man, bears the markings of
early 1970s counterculture and much subsequent success. The friends
and comrades on the walls include Bob Dylan, Martin Scorsese, and
Janis Joplin (seen at the Newport Folk Festival of 1966 in the company
of a lanky and beardless Taplin, age 19, when he had a summer job
as her road manager). More recent mementos reflect two decades as
a producer of what Taplin proudly calls "edgy" motion pictures,
from Mean Streets to To Die For. He gave up producing in the early
'90s, disenchanted by what he saw as the growing power of agents,
packagers, and market-research teams. ("I didn't want to make
car-crash movies," he says.) But his moviemaking years left him
with a deep knowledge of Hollywood and what it takes to get a risky
project green-lighted.
He had already founded one company, making interactive CD-ROMs
with his director-friend Jeremiah Chechik, when in the spring of
1996 he heard about a cable-modem experiment in Philadelphia that
delivered data at the rate of 1.5 megabits per second. Being a "little
bit of a techy," he knew that this was roughly the throughput
necessary for MPEG-1, the video standard of the day. Getting together
with Chechik and Richard Baskin, an ice cream heir turned maker
of music videos, who is now Intertainer's chairman, Taplin laid
out a scheme for a sort of MTV.com. The idea mushroomed from there.
Bankrolling the venture out of their own pockets to start with,
the founders hired a team of engineers, who spent a year developing
a system for taking and tracking orders and streaming content to
customers for viewing on either a PC or a TV. While other companies
had come up with pieces of a VOD program, Intertainer had assembled
"an end-to-end system that really worked," says Marc Coblitz,
senior vice president for strategic planning at the Philadelphia-based
cable operator Comcast, which in 1997 became one of the company's
first outside investors. It was, in Coblitz's opinion, a "monumental
achievement."
Two key decisions were made in the early going. One was to pay
fastidious attention to intellectual property issues and other movie
industry concerns. The second was to seek backers who could supply
credibility and practical assistance as well as money. "We
never went after venture capitalists," Taplin says. "We
only went after strategic partners." With $37 million in first-round
financing from Comcast, Intel (INTC), NBC, and Sony (SNE), Intertainer
was able to offer generous advances for top movies. By the middle
of 1999, its content providers included Columbia, Disney (DIS),
DreamWorks, Fox, and Warner Bros., as well as an array of smaller
movie and TV companies.
If the content came relatively easy, the customers came hard. Intertainer
planned to store its video files on strategically placed servers
in each local market, and to stream them over proprietary networks
rather than trusting the public channels (and unpredictable routing)
of the Internet. But that arrangement -- designed to ensure a high-quality
image, and to assuage the piracy concerns of the studios -- had
the incidental effect of making Intertainer dependent on others
for distribution as well as content. The major cable companies were
the obvious candidates to be distribution partners, but to Taplin's
dismay, most of them weren't interested.
One of the main sticking points was the set-top box. Intertainer's
original system, relying on Internet Protocol as a transmission
standard, called for a new generation of boxes costing at least
several hundred dollars each. None of the cable companies were in
a mood to make that kind of investment, or push it on their customers.
To compound matters, the cable industry already had an a la carte
movie service: pay-per-view. And the executives who ran that side
of things tended to be ambivalent toward VOD; it made them feel
threatened and, at the same time, proprietary. VOD was something
they would get around to in their own good time, and when the time
came, many cable people reasoned, it was an idea they were perfectly
capable of implementing without the help of middlemen like Intertainer.
Of the 10 biggest cable operators, only Comcast signed on. And
when, two years later, Comcast got around to launching modest VOD
trials in Willow Grove, Pa., and Monmouth County, N.J., it went
with a stripped-down form of the technology, largely in the interests
of making VOD compatible with existing digital set-top boxes.
That left DSL. In theory, Intertainer could stream video over
digital subscriber lines, which use ordinary copper wire to achieve
transmission rates as high as 1.5 mbps. But the reality of DSL tended
to fall far short of the theory. In many parts of the country, the
throughput was barely good enough for a postage-stamp image. And
that's assuming that the local telephone company could install and
maintain the service in the first place -- not always a safe bet.
Nevertheless, Intertainer's first major success came in the DSL
arena -- and in Cincinnati, a venue not previously known as a hotbed
of digital innovation.
Of the Baby Bells, Cincinnati Bell was, in several respects, the
odd baby out. Semi-independent of AT&T (T) even in the days
before the breakup, it had more recently become a unit of Broadwing,
a telecommunications company whose CEO, Rick Ellenberger, remained
bullish on DSL when many of his peers were running scared. Broadwing
had decided to make Cincinnati a laboratory for "the kind of
applications that people were just beginning to think about,"
says Michael O'Brien, president of the company's broadband subsidiary,
Zoomtown. In that spirit, Zoomtown began offering Intertainer to
a pilot group of customers in the spring of 2000.
Around the same time, Intertainer acquired another key ally. In
January 2000, Microsoft purchased a 20 percent stake in the company
for $57 million. Microsoft engineers then started a full-court press
to lower the bandwidth demands of IP video. In the course of what
became a yearlong experiment, Intertainer, Zoomtown, and Microsoft
managed to lay a number of technical concerns to rest. They had
demonstrated, says Will Poole, the head of Microsoft's Windows Media
division, that with the right server configuration, ordinary DSL
"can pump out a tremendous amount of very high quality video
very effectively."
By April of this year, Zoomtown believed it was ready to offer
the service to all 40,000 of its DSL subscribers. It was, in Baskin's
words, the "first large-scale Internet Protocol delivery of
video on demand anywhere in the world." One satisfied customer
is David Wiser, a Cincinnati-based executive-search consultant.
Wiser and his family have watched a couple dozen movies and TV shows,
including old Saturday Night Live episodes and "other stuff
that you won't find at Blockbuster," he says. On a practical
level, Wiser likes the freedom to pause the program and go make
popcorn or respond to sounds from the bedroom of a putatively sleeping
offspring. With VOD, he points out, there's no time lapse between
the rental act and the viewing act, and no opportunity for something
else to come up. "We must have spent $140 on The English Patient
without ever seeing it," Wiser says. "I swear to God,
we've rented that thing five or six times."
There's still plenty of debate about the ability of the industry
as a whole to replicate Zoomtown's achievement. Even in Cincinnati,
the image can be on the grainy side -- not always attaining the
VHS quality that Intertainer claims it has achieved so far. Technical
problems aside, there are questions about the marketability of video
delivered to a PC. Cable people ridicule the notion that people
will want to watch Gladiator, say, with their nose pressed up to
a 17-inch computer monitor. (Customers can choose from a variety
of prepackaged or jury-rigged methods of porting video from the
PC to a TV, but only a few customers -- Wiser among them -- have
been willing to go to the trouble.) On the other hand, Microsoft's
Poole says, the population accustomed to thinking of a PC as an
entertainment appliance is growing. That attitude is particularly
common among high school and college students. Many of the latter
-- some 4 million in all -- enjoy subsidized broadband courtesy
of their schools. "That's a lot of dorms," he observes.
At the very least, the burst of renewed interest in the DSL camp
could help light a fire under the cable industry. Comcast is already
moving toward a full-scale deployment of Intertainer's service in
all of its markets, including Baltimore and Philadelphia. Another
cable provider, Adelphia, has scheduled launches in Cleveland, Colorado
Springs, suburban Pittsburgh, and Los Angeles. And WinFirst is preparing
to introduce the service in Sacramento, Calif., and Dallas.
Of course, VOD's prospects are one thing and Intertainer's are another.
Several of the major cable companies are backing a VOD initiative
put together by an industry pay-per-view consortium, which recently
changed its name to In Demand. Although this effort has met resistance
from studio executives (who feel that the cable companies already
have too much clout), Cox Cable plans to deploy the service in San
Diego, and Time Warner is running trials in Honolulu and Columbia,
S.C.
The movie studios themselves, meanwhile, have announced a pair of
ambitious VOD schemes that, in theory, threaten to bypass two whole
layers of middlemen. But one of these ventures -- involving Sony,
Paramount, Warner Bros., and Universal -- relies on downloading
rather than streaming technology, and even some customers with high-speed
connections could face waits of an hour or more before they can
view what they've ordered. In any case, the licensing arrangements
are nonexclusive, so Intertainer should at least be able to hold
its own when it comes to content. And while the studio ventures
are still in the planning stages, Intertainer is up and running.
"Intertainer really is the pioneer here," says Joseph
Laszlo, who follows the broadband world for research firm Jupiter
Media Metrix. "It is the company that has managed to bridge
the gap between the distribution guys and the content guys. Maybe
by virtue of being small and not having a very threatening brand,
it's been able to construct a set of relationships that others may
not be able to match."
The selection at the local Blockbuster still dwarfs Intertainer's
offerings, which are currently limited to about 800 hours' worth
of content at any one time (out of the roughly 75,000 total hours).
But the Intertainer crew envisions a day when they can supply almost
anything. "Three to five years out," Baskin says, "all
the major media companies will have begun to digitize their stuff,
and they will all have their own servers" in addition to arrangements
with aggregators like Intertainer or directly with cable companies.
"I'll get an urge to watch that Lassie show that I remember
as a child," he says, "and Intertainer will be there to
fetch it for me."