Thanks to Netflix, you will never watch this Black Mirror ever again

The Herald Scotland

15-05-2025

Bandersnatch gave the viewer the choice of what story beats would play out through numerous choices. It was not just a simple forked path but innovatively tracked the viewer across multiple watches, contained secret scenes to unlock depending on what choices were made, and displayed alternate endings depending on the user's own Netflix history. It was, at once, active and reactive. A well-thought-out execution for such an overt gimmick.
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The deletion is prompted by the streaming giant removing its Branch Manager engine, tech built to host and contain the interactive elements from outside the capabilities of Netflix's usual interface.
But the bespoke nature of this tech and the little care Netflix has towards preservation mean that experiencing these works as they were intended becomes impossible. Archivists can scrape scenes and approximate how the title should be viewed, but the genuine article now sits in a locked vault of code somewhere in the basement of Netflix HQ.
It's not just Black Mirror: Bandersnatch that finds itself being erased from time and space altogether – it is any title on the platform that uses the interactivity features Netflix was once so gung ho on experimenting with. Also seeing the chop is Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy vs the Reverend, Minecraft: Story Mode, and Carmen Sandiego: To Steal or Not to Steal, among others.
Whatever is available on Netflix comes and goes, dependent on ever-changing licensing rights and the tedious process of expiry and renewal, but these interactive titles are owned and distributed by Netflix. It has long been assumed that such in-house titles are a permanent addition to their library, yet the recent decision to completely remove them betrays such confidence and conventional wisdom.
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This raises some questions about digital preservation in the streaming era. Unlike traditional films or television, which can be archived properly and redistributed without much fuss if available, these interactive titles rely on specialised software to function and, without it, are lost entirely. How do we preserve such things in an environment that is so ephemeral and so unconsidered by its own makers?
The crux lies in the impermanent nature of digital media. Even titles produced and owned by major platforms are no longer guaranteed to remain accessible. For fans of Bandersnatch, this means that unless Netflix reverses course or releases the title in a different format, its unique narrative vanishes without a trace.
The move may also signal a shift in Netflix's strategy. Interactive storytelling, once seen as an innovative experiment, appears to have been deprioritised. While Bandersnatch was a critical and commercial success, later interactive titles failed to generate the same buzz. By sunsetting the Branch Manager engine, Netflix is definitively closing the book on this chapter of its history.
There is a stark difference between the Netflix that once greenlit Bandersnatch and what arose after. Bandersnatch was produced in a streaming environment where money was thrown at the wall to see what would stick, where experimentation was encouraged, where notable auteurs like Martin Scorsese and David Fincher were given endless pots of money to make what they wanted, and where the platform was eager to differentiate itself from traditional television.
Mindhunter, David Fincher's psychological serial killer series, was cancelled by Netflix due to financial issues (Image: Netflix) Netflix has now peaked in popularity, and its user base has declined for the first time in recent years. Focus on proven hits like Stranger Things, and the illusion of an endless stream of content to retain subscribers, regardless of quality, is now a safer and more financially sound direction for the waning giant.
Film preservationists have long worked to rescue decaying reels collecting dust in warehouses and obscure forgotten releases from the abyss of history. Digital media has fixed a lot of the traditional problems associated with archival practices, but as seen here, it also presents new and unaccounted-for challenges.
Some argue that piracy becomes a form of preservation in these cases. If corporations won't maintain access to their own works, fans and archivists must take matters into their own hands. But do archivists have to break the law to do what is for the greater good?
For now, viewers hoping to revisit Bandersnatch or similar titles are left with few options – unofficial recordings, fan archives, or the slim chance of a future re-release. Bandersnatch remains a ghost in Netflix's servers – a relic of a time when the future of entertainment had the door open to more possibilities. Its removal is a reminder that in the digital age, nothing is guaranteed to last. Here today, gone tomorrow.