The paragraph evaluates show appeal, noting that "Not everything works across borders." Comedy's popularity fluctuates. Murderous mayhem and whodunit narratives featuring ancient Romans and stern barbarians hold greater appeal. Consequently, the text suggests a murder mystery set in France and North Africa would likely resonate with viewers across the European Union.
Option D can be readily dismissed based on the preceding information.
Option C is also eliminated because the text explicitly states, "German television is not always built for export." The primary focus of the passage is the successful adaptation of European content.
Option B is irrelevant to this discussion. The passage does not comment on the appeal of romantic dramas, and the transatlantic comparison may not accurately reflect the success of certain themes within Europe.
The correct option is (A): A murder mystery drama set in North Africa and France.
Option A: While this outcome highlights viewer preferences, it does not directly substantiate the author's assertion regarding Netflix's role in fostering cross-border European integration.
Option C: The author's assertion that Netflix serves as a unifying element across Europe is not directly supported by this finding.
Option D: Despite the author's conclusion regarding the potential business implications of this finding, it fails to directly address the issue of cultural unification.
The author's concluding statement in the final paragraph posits Netflix as a force for European unity, recharacterizing culture as a "cross-border endeavor." The author's claim that Netflix is popular across Europe and offers a shared experience for Europeans is weakened if there are substantial disparities in the popularity and viewership duration of Netflix series among different EU member states. The appropriate choice is option B.
The author's conclusion in the final paragraph is unrelated to any of the preceding options.
The correct option is (B): Empirical data reveals significant differences in Netflix show popularity and viewing patterns across various EU countries.
All options except A are factually supported by the passage.
Option B is directly supported by the statement: "A bigger problem is that national broadcasters still dominate." Streaming services, including Netflix and Disney+, constitute almost a third of all viewing hours even in mature markets.
The statement "The economics of European productions are more appealing, too" validates Option C. American audiences are increasingly receptive to dubbed or subtitled content. This suggests that French Netflix original crime drama "Lupin" could achieve global popularity.
Option D is also substantiated: "According to media analysis firm Ampere, roughly 75% of Netflix's original content was produced in the United States in 2015; that percentage is now only half."
The inaccuracy in Option A lies in the claim that Netflix has become a truly European entity. While Netflix maintains European offices, ultimate decision-making power rests with American CEOs.
The correct option is (A): Netflix has been able to transform itself into a truly European entity.
You may laugh at a hat, but what you are making fun of, in this case, is not the piece of felt or straw, but the shape that men have given it, -- the human caprice whose mould it has assumed. It is strange that so important a fact, and such a simple one too, has not attracted to a greater degree the attention of philosophers. Several have de ned man as "an animal which laughs." They might equally well have de ned him as an animal which is laughed at; for if any other animal, or some lifeless object, produces the same effect, it is always because of some resemblance to man, of the stamp he gives it or the use he puts it to.
Here I would point out, as a symptom equally worthy of notice, the ABSENCE OF FEELING which usually accompanies laughter. It seems as though the comic could not produce its disturbing effect unless it fell, so to say, on the surface of a soul that is thoroughly calm and unru ed. Indifference is its natural environment, for laughter has no greater foe than emotion. I do not mean that we could not laugh at a person who inspires us with pity, for instance, or evenwith affection, but in such a case we must, for the moment, put our affection out of court and impose silence upon our pity. In a society composed of pure intelligences there would probably be no more tears, though perhaps there would still be laughter; whereas highly emotional souls, in tune and unison with life, in whom every event would be sentimentally prolonged and re-echoed, would neither know nor understand laughter. Try, for a moment, to become interested in everything that is being said and done; act, in imagination, with those who act, and feel with those who feel; in a word, give your sympathy its widest expansion: as though at the touch of a fairy wand you will see the imsiest of objects assume importance, and a gloomy hue spread over everything. Now step aside, look upon life as a disinterested spectator: many a drama will turn into a comedy. It is enough for us to stop our ears to the sound of music, in a room where dancing is going on, for the dancers at once to appear ridiculous. How many human actions would stand a similar test? Should we not see many of them suddenly pass from grave to gay, on isolating them from the accompanying music of sentiment? To produce the whole of its effect, then, the comic demands something like a momentary anesthesia of the heart. Its appeal is to intelligence, pure and simple
This uidity and situational dependence is uniquely human. In other species, in-group/outgroup distinctions re ect degrees of biological relatedness, or what evolutionary biologists call “kin selection.” Rodents distinguish between a sibling, a cousin, and a stranger by smell—xed, genetically determined pheromonal signatures—and adapt their cooperation accordingly. Those murderous groups of chimps are largely made up of brothers or cousins who grew up together and predominantly harm outsiders. Humans are plenty capable of kin-selective violence themselves, yet human group mentality is often utterly independent of such instinctual familial bonds. Most modern human societies rely instead on cultural kin selection, a process allowing people to feel closely related to what are, in a biological sense, total strangers. Often, this requires a highly active process of inculcation, with its attendant rituals and vocabularies. Consider military drills producing “bands of brothers,” unrelated college freshmen becoming sorority “sisters,” or the bygone value of welcoming immigrants into “the American family.” This malleable, rather than genetically xed, path of identity formation also drives people to adopt arbitrary markers that enable them to spot their cultural kin in an ocean of strangers—hence the importance various communities attach to ags, dress, or facial hair. The hipster beard, the turban, and the “Make America Great Again” hat all fulfill this role by sending strong signals of tribal belonging. Moreover, these cultural communities are arbitrary when compared to the relatively axed logic of biological kin selection. Few things show this arbitrariness better than the experience of immigrant families, where the randomness of a visa lottery can radically reshu e a child’s education, career opportunities, and cultural predilections. Had my grandparents and father missed the train out of Moscow that they instead barely made, maybe I’d be a chain smoking Russian academic rather than a Birkenstock-wearing American one, moved to tears by the heroism during the Battle of Stalingrad rather than that at Pearl Harbor. Scaled up from the level of individual family histories, our big-picture group identities—the national identities and cultural principles that structure our lives— are just as arbitrary and subject to the vagaries of history.