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Once upon a time (read: a few years ago) there were two new streaming services called Quibi and Go90 that were supposed to appeal to phone-addicted millennials. These platforms were supposed to compete with Netflix and Amazon by offering short-form videos designed to be viewed on the go. Both services were touted as the future of entertainment and had significant financial backing. But neither Quibi nor Go90 managed to really gain traction before their names became shorthand for “bad ideas illustrating how out of touch studio and telecom executives can be.”
Quibi and Go90 were quick to live in this world, and much has been written about how they were doomed from the jump. Quibi was strangely expensive, Go90’s landscape-focused branding confused people, and neither service made it easy to share their content on other platforms. At the time, people – especially here in the West – scoffed at the idea of watching scripted series meant to be viewed on a smartphone. But this same basic concept began to take off in China when the Covid-19 pandemic crippled the entertainment industry and forced movie theaters to close. Some were supernatural period dramas, while others were romantic thrillers set in modern times. And their stories were all filled with crazy twists and turns that unfolded over the course of dozens of episodes.
In 2025, “microfiction” companies like DramaBox and ReelShort have demonstrated that it East an audience willing to pay for content that can be consumed in quick bites. And the recent boom in microfiction has been a fascinating case study in old, failed ideas that are wildly successful today because the way people think about and interact with media has changed.
When you open one of the apps dedicated to micro-fiction, you can see that the companies behind them have taken notes from social media platforms like TikTok and streaming services like Netflix in order to create a new third type of thing filled with filth. You’re immediately presented with a poster schedule for multi-part series whose “episodes” each last about two minutes maximum. And the titles – gems like I kissed a CEO and he liked it, The betrayed Alpha Queen rises from her ashesAnd The Unwanted Woman Strikes Back – are as explicit as they are ridiculous. Almost every show involves elements of pulp romance and women getting revenge after being looked down upon for not embodying the “right kind” of womanhood or femininity.
Many series present fertility, motherhood, and werewolf/Omegaverse culture as elements that define their heroines’ sense of self. And even though these female characters are often presented as people are Able to fend for themselves, their main goal is usually to find a man who can sweep them off their feet and meet all their material needs.
Microfiction’s focus on stories of downtrodden damsels in distress is testament to the fact that female viewers make up a significant portion of these platforms’ subscriber base. On one level, these series harness the same type of raucous energy that has kept the romance space humming, even as the publishing industry as a whole has seen a steady decline in sales. But unlike romance novels from traditional publishing houses with rigorous editorial processes, the production values of micro-fiction are shoddy, reflecting how incredibly cheap they are to make compared to a Netflix or Hulu original.
This relatively low price is one of the main reasons why ReelShort and DramaBox – which are backed by Chinese and Singaporean companies respectively – have made greater inroads into Western markets in recent years. This is also the reason why American studios like GammaTime and MicroCo are starting to appear. It doesn’t seem to bother viewers that everything about the micro-dramas, from the writing to the acting to the lighting, is absolutely terrible. Globally, the microfiction industry is expected to rake in around $3 billion by the end of the year thanks to the platforms’ surprisingly aggressive and playful pricing strategies. And as Hollywood executives decide to get more serious about making micro-fiction, the business has become an unexpected boon for young actors, writers and production workers trying to maintain their careers in a shrinking job market.
While it’s hard to find a micro-drama that resembles strong storytelling, there’s no denying that people are paying to watch them at a time when traditional streamers are struggling to attract new subscribers. Are the series like Carrying your triplets, Become his wifeAnd I found a homeless billionaire husband for Christmas destined to become a mainstream pop cultural phenomenon? Probably not. But these types of projects allow people to keep their jobs and generate enough profit to justify their existence.
By launching a new type of employment contract designed to address the “unique needs” of actors working on serial micro-fiction, such as ensuring they receive a fair wage and earn screen credits for their work, SAG-AFTRA has sent a signal to the rest of the entertainment industry about the future potential of this type of content. These shows may not be particularly good right now, but this could change if studios put more effort into producing them. And even if microfiction were to stick with its current style of stilted acting/dull directing/weak writing, their current success suggests that their subscribers might not really be interested in something “better.”
As different segments of the tech and entertainment industries compete for audiences’ attention, micro-dramas appear to be particularly strong competitors. Micro-dramas don’t quite fit in with streaming series the way we usually think of them, and they don’t exactly scratch the same “look, watch some randos do stuff” itch that TikTok is designed for. Ironically, the success of ReelShort and DramaBox seems to be a direct byproduct of the way TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube have gotten people into the habit of endlessly scrolling through vertically shot videos. But these micro-dramas are their own weird thing that have carved out a unique niche for themselves and found a hungry audience in the process. And if these new platforms manage to continue their upward momentum, it wouldn’t be at all surprising to see their streaming and social media competitors rush to create their own similar content.
- More and more microfiction production houses are integrating generative artificial intelligence into their workflows to reduce production costs while producing content even faster. As ill-suited as the technology is for more polished projects, it makes a lot of sense for the style these types of shows are known for. It will be interesting to see if the use of AI in microfiction becomes a point of contention for the human actors who rely on these projects for their work.
- The rise of micro-fiction also coincides with a sharp slowdown in film and television production in Los Angeles. This is another reason why more and more artists are turning to platforms to stay afloat, and this moment could be a prime opportunity for micro-fiction to establish itself as a viable source of entertainment.
- Although micro-dramas are currently in vogue, this Puck This article perfectly illustrates some of the challenges these platforms will face as their growth leads to market saturation.
- It’s important to understand how hostile all major microfiction apps are to users. Janko Roettgers’ recent article here explains what makes these apps so predatory and how many of them were informed by the freemium model of mobile gaming.
- The ankle had a great discussion with Joey Jia, CEO of ReelShort, about how the company’s approach to monetization has made it a billion-dollar company. The piece also includes a conversation with actor Kasey Esser about how working on micro-dramas had a profound impact on his career.
- SAG-AFTRA’s microfiction contract makes it appear that the union is proactive about changes within the entertainment industry. But this Variety The play explores how the new contract was – at least partially – a response to the fact that some actors had only just decided to work without a union.
