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Take a guess at the highest-grossing film of all time, adjusted for inflation: “Titanic,” “Frozen,” “Avengers: Infinity War”? Nope — the title actually goes to 1939’s “Gone with the Wind,” the film bemoaning the loss of the pre-Civil War South with no shortage of problematic character portrayals. While it’s a bit of an affront to consider Scarlett O’Hara’s petulant four-hour drama America’s most celebrated cinematic creation in the past eight decades, “Gone with the Wind” wasn’t just any movie back then: As one of the first and only Technicolor films ever made, there weren’t many other options playing in theaters (making for quite a few repetitive first dates).

Today, Netflix’s 183 million subscribers have access to a catalog with thousands of movies and TV shows, along with personalized libraries of recommendations. Having evolved from a rent-by-mail DVD service to a ubiquitous streaming platform that doubles as a euphemism for sex, Netflix has proven itself capable of preserving the cinematic experience in the midst of a pandemic when IMAX screens and surround sound systems could not. With companies from Hulu to HBO to newer additions like Apple quickly catching on to the market, and offering the newest content for anywhere from $4.99 to $14.99 a month, what exactly are those enticing little add-on words — “plus,” “max,” “blue,” “now” — promising us?

In fact, streaming’s popularity first stemmed from its status as a much simpler, less expensive alternative to cable. In that sense, perhaps it democratizes the landscape of visual media, offering not only an extensive library of classics, but also high-quality original shows like HBO’s “Chernobyl,” Hulu’s “Normal People,” or Amazon Prime’s “Fleabag” to a far greater audience than ever before. With more flexibility (and deeper pockets) for creative experimentation than traditional Hollywood film studios, Netflix has even managed to convince big-name directors like Martin Scorsese and actors like Jennifer Aniston and Adam Sandler to sign on to its original projects, legitimizing itself as an institution of film and television far into the future.

Still, the new world of entertainment brought on by streaming comes alongside some qualifications. With more hours of algorithm-tailored content than it would be possible to consume in a human lifetime, watching TV can feel like a constant game of catch-up. There’s a paralyzing number of choices between not only what to watch, but between exactly which services to subscribe to (while the existence of combination bundles, like Disney Plus, Hulu, and ESPN all for $12.99 makes it even more overwhelming). Looking past the economic considerations of whether the live-action “Mulan” is worth $30 on top of your Disney Plus subscription (spoiler alert: it’s not), streaming offers significant changes to the way we consume media.

When entire seasons of a show drop at once, gone are the loyal TV and movie fan bases of the 2000s, built from the collective excitement of having to wait a week for a new episode. Despite constant additions of new content, attempts at recreating old magic or extending its lifetime often fall flat: Though “High School Musical: The Musical: The Series” was actually much more fun (and original) than the title would suggest, that’s still a bit of a low bar — and it comes nowhere close to the lively, creative energy of Disney Channel ten years ago.

One could argue that the culture of “binging” shows makes it more difficult to direct invested, long-term emotional attention towards any singular one, and that even as the “Up Next” button gives us more opportunities to find content we like, we don’t have the time to fully immerse ourselves in it. Such vast libraries also beg the question of whether art deserves to be treated and consumed like this — if there is a reason why museums have glass panels and spacious galleries, why Van Gogh’s “Night Cafe” isn’t crushed up against some toddler’s coloring book, then how can it be acceptable for Netflix to suggest “La La Land” and “The Kissing Booth” side by side under the same genre?

Perhaps the most apt metaphor for all of this streaming business is the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream flavor “Netflix and Chill’d”: a familiar peanut-butter base featuring interesting occasional surprises of fudge brownie and pretzel bits that you wouldn’t find in your run-of-the-mill ice cream brand. And when it does get a little too sweet, or a little too rich, just remember to take it slow and savor each bite, lest we be overwhelmed by all the different flavors.