The Price of Taste

When Pierre Bourdieu brought the idea of cultural capital to light, he wanted to stress the point that status isn’t a concept based on one's economic means statues, but about one's taste. Cultural capital can be seen as an intangible non-economic asset that was earned and developed, through the acquisition of acknowledgement, refinement of that knowledge, forming a developed sensibility and curated individual. It is the currency that buys you entry into the club of good taste. However as of late, it seems that the currency is more readily available to everyone. We’ve all encountered at least one the film bro throughout our adult life. The one who fails to finish a conversation without mentioning Eric Rohmer in a sentence or pointing to his meticulously curated Letterboxd watchlist for some sort of validation. As annoying as I have found talking to this type, I still find myself respecting this gimmick. It is such a clear embodiment of cultural capital: The cultivation of such taste is a pursuit very few choose to embark on, and something which I can applaud. 

The structures that have allowed for such distinction are shifting. The independent film industry has faced strain over the past few years. The rise of streaming giants like Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime have drastically altered the habits of viewers, drawing them away from the box office and eroding a key revenue stream for these smaller studios. The numbers keep getting scarier: only 0.4 percent of independent films made in the United States over the past two decades have been profitable, and nearly 60 percent of those released in cinemas have failed to recover production costs.

For production houses like A24 and Neon, who are often celebrated for their critically acclaimed and commercially successful works such as Past Lives, Everything Everywhere all at Once, and Anora, it would seem that the current environment is both creatively fertile and financially sound. However, artistic prestige has not always guaranteed such success, by that same coin we have seen works, such as A24’s Beau is Afraid , divide critics and flop at the box office. With these diminishing box office returns and riskier auteur projects that are seemingly dividing audiences, these studios are in need of exploring more creative ways of sustaining themselves.

Commodifying their cultural capital is the conclusion they have seemed to come to in order to survive. Neon’s release of Anora’s “Little Wifey” thongs and collectable monkey figurines, as well as A24’s line of beard oils in celebration of The Lighthouse release appear to be extensions of the identities that these studios have cultivated. Selling these tokens of “good taste” has transformed the allure surrounding these independent cinemas into a valuable revenue stream.

As happy as I am that independent film still has a shot at survival, I think this strategy invited a certain sense of irony. As Vulture’s Sam Sanders observed “When moviegoers gush over an A24 film, it can be hard to tell whether they’re more excited for the ‘A24’ part or the ‘film’ part.” What was once a sign of critical discernment is now at risk of becoming a fashionable trend. In this new landscape, the purchase of a tote bag labelled A24 as a means of showcasing cultural literacy without putting in the effort to acquire it, is what it looks will be the outcome of these business practices. Distinctions in taste now may be more difficult to identify-cultural capital, once earned through knowledge and participation, can now be bought outright.

In spite of my worries about this, I still don’t dismiss this merchandising in its entirety. The economic pressures put on independent films are still very much real, and these strategies seem to be playing a role in its survival. If merchandising is what allows studios like Neon and A24 to continue financing these daring works, then this model seems like a necessary compromise.

As disheartening as it may seem that cultural capital is repackaged for commerce, as a way for uninteresting students to pay for a personality, rather than gaining the insight, independent film continues to enrich our contemporary culture with its experimentation, representation and narrative depth. Even if cultural capital has become a commodity, its preservation remains an act worth supporting. 

Sources:

Verwiebe, R. (2024). Bourdieu revisited: New forms of digital capital. Information, Communication & Society. https://doi.org/10.1080/1369118X.2024.2358170

Puccia, A., Cabeza-Ramírez, L. J., de los Santos, M. M., & González-Mohíno, M. (2025). Bridging cultural capital: Youth-driven communication as a catalyst for well-being in film festival participation. Social Sciences, 14(1), 26. https://doi.org/10.3390/socsci14010026