When director David Fincher’s Netflix film The Killer premiered in 2023, Jessica Carmona didn’t watch Michael Fassbender’s hitman from her couch. Instead, she saw it on the big screen at the newly renovated Egyptian Theatre in Los Angeles, a century-old movie palace Netflix had just restored. Carmona, a Los Angeles native and music industry manager, experienced the two-hour thriller as part of a sold-out crowd enjoying the communal magic of cinema inside the splendor of a Hollywood landmark.
“I love that they preserved its history without going over the top. It still feels like old Hollywood, but with a fresh polish,” Carmon told Observer. “To me, that balance is the most ‘Netflix’ thing about it—modern but mindful of story and legacy.”
The irony is hard to miss. For more than a decade, Netflix has trained its subscribers to stay home and binge—disrupting the theatrical model and hastening the decline of physical media. Now the streamer is moving in the opposite direction, opening and operating physical spaces of its own. And the effort goes well beyond a single historic theatre. From theme restaurants to massive “experience centers” planned for later this year, Netflix is looking to become part of its subscribers’ offline lives, too.
Netflix expands into the real world
Beyond the Egyptian, Netflix also operates the refurbished Paris Theatre in New York, the last remaining single-screen theater in Manhattan. These venues give the streamer a place to host premieres, program prestige screenings and stage awards-qualifying runs.
The Egyptian, which first opened in 1922 at the height of the silent film era, is steeped in Hollywood history. It earned its place in film lore as the site of the industry’s first movie premiere: Robin Hood, starring Douglas Fairbanks. In New York, the Paris Theatre had been a cultural fixture for more than 70 years before closing in 2019; Netflix reopened the 500-plus-seat venue in August 2021.
But Netflix’s ambitions extend far beyond cinema. In February, it launched Netflix Bites, a brightly designed, Netflix-themed restaurant inside the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. There, fans can order Bridgerton–inspired tea service or take on a Squid Game food challenge involving a spin wheel that decides which sauce accompanies their chicken. Neon wall signs greet patrons with messages like “Are You Still Hungry?” (a play on the streamer’s familiar “Are you still watching?” prompt), while the menu features tongue-in-cheek items like a Stranger Things jalapeño-and-pineapple pan pizza and a three-tier “Regency Tea” complete with scones, sandwiches and pastries.
To stir early buzz, Netflix flew in influencers like Karissa Dumbacher, whose KarissaEats YouTube channel has 4.3 million subscribers. “The restaurant was so cute, especially if you’re a fan of these shows. I would definitely recommend it for a cute dinner spot,” she said in a video review. But reaction since has been mixed: one Facebook reviewer dismissed the food as “mediocre, nothing out of the ordinary,” while a Reddit commenter said, “The entrance was BY FAR the coolest part. Food was meh quality for strip price.”
Later this year, Netflix plans to open two 100,000-square-foot “Netflix House” entertainment complexes in Dallas and Philadelphia, with immersive sets from Stranger Things and One Piece, themed games and exclusive merchandise. A third Netflix House is slated for the Las Vegas Strip in 2027. In a nod to its DVD-by-mail days, visitors will enter each venue through a giant red envelope.
“This is fandom coming to life, where you can actually step inside the worlds you’ve been watching and loving for years—whether going on an epic adventure with the Straw Hats, taking a journey into Hawkins, Indiana, or grabbing a cocktail inspired by your latest obsession,” Netflix CMO Marian Lee said in a statement.
Mirroring the Disney model
Developments like these push Netflix closer to the Disney playbook—mining intellectual property for experiences, merchandise and events that monetize fan passion far beyond the screen. A trip to Netflix House isn’t just about tickets or food; it’s about buying into a community that algorithms alone can’t create.
Still, the offline pivot comes with risk. Operating venues is costly and complex. Theaters need programming that consistently fills seats, and experience centers must reinvent themselves to keep visitors returning. And, unlike streaming, these ventures are tied to geography—success in Dallas or Las Vegas doesn’t automatically translate worldwide.
What’s clear is that this is more than a branding stunt. Netflix’s real-world experiments arrive at a moment of intense competition, as Wall Street presses for clarity on the company’s next act. These spaces offer new revenue streams and deeper fan engagement—high-margin extensions of hit IP that let audiences “live” a Netflix story instead of simply watch it.
The Disney comparison is telling. While a Disney World trip may be a once-a-year event, Netflix wants its theaters, restaurants and entertainment centers to invite repeat visits. And if it feels like a stretch to suggest Netflix is eyeing the Magic Kingdom’s crown, consider this:
KPop Demon Hunters, the K-pop–themed animated musical that debuted on Netflix in June, has already become the streamer’s second most-watched original movie ever. By contrast, Pixar’s Elio, which hit theaters the same month, opened to just $20.8 million domestically—the lowest debut in Pixar’s history. KPop Demon Hunters is even being floated as a Best Animated Feature contender, an Oscar Disney hasn’t won in three years. Netflix, in other words, is challenging Disney on multiple fronts.
Bottom line: the company that once taught us to stay home is now inviting subscribers out into a world of its own—one where you might start with an episode of Wednesday and end with a themed dinner, a piece of merch, and a photo under a marquee Netflix helped light up again.
(Except for the headline, this story has not been edited by PostX News and is published from a syndicated feed.)
