Comment
James Murdoch taking more hands on role at Star?
Truth will out. After months of rumour and speculation, the pieces of the puzzle as to what exactly has been going on behind the scenes at Rupert Murdoch’s Asian arm are falling in place (or so we believe).
Conversations Indiantelevision.com has had with industry executives in India and Hong Kong aver that the countdown to yesterday’s announcement of Star CEO Michelle Guthrie’s departure had been set in motion months before. The first inklings of that came with the creation last March of a new executive structure within Star wherein Steve Askew was named president of Star Entertainment in addition to COO of Star; and the appointment less than a month later, of Paul Aiello as president of Star.
Aiello’s was a newly created role that put him in charge of developing strategic and business directions for the pan Asian broadcaster while overseeing corporate functions including business development, strategy and implementation, Star Ventures, government affairs and corporate communications.
Similarly, the schism that has riven Star India these past months also directly links back to events of March 2006 and the shake up in the Indian operations wherein two units were created – Star Group and Star Entertainment – with Peter Mukerjea made CEO of Star Group India and Sameer Nair promoted from COO Star India to CEO of Star Entertainment India. More on that later though.
Back in Hong Kong, meanwhile, the next significant appointment was in September of David Butorac as president, Platforms. That announcement marked the return to the News Corp fold of a BSkyB veteran who was then COO of Malaysia’s Astro DTH operator.
All these moves are said to have been orchestrated out of London by BSkyB CEO and now looking ever more likely heir to the Murdoch legacy, James Murdoch. That James would have a personal interest in the affairs of Star is not surprising since his three-year stint as chairman and CEO of Star marked his coming of age as an entrepreneur.
When James joined Star in May 2000, Star was losing ?100 million a year. When he handed over charge to Guthrie in November 2003 Star’s India operations were extremely profitable and China was beginning to show profitability. Guthrie’s mandate was to drive the company further into these markets and steer it into DTH, and pure pay TV plays with higher subscription revenues.
In both China (due to political reasons as much as anything) and India (the cycle of change?) there has been a deceleration but that doesn’t really tell the story. One could argue that it is also down to the advantages of being an owner but there is no getting away from the fact that during James’ reign there was clarity and simplicity in both executive chains of command as well as corporate structure and direction.
To say that the executive command structure at Star today is convoluted would be putting it kindly. And nothing exemplifies this better than the India operations where there is a strategic/corporate CEO in Mukerjea, an operational CEO in Nair, and a president in Paritosh Joshi responsible for managing revenues. And there soon may even be a COO if reports of a move to India of long time Star Hong Kong hand Sanjay Das pan out as true. We’re surprised that the name of long-time Star loyalist and former India business development head Jagdish Kumar has not cropped up anywhere in the speculations.
According to our reading of the events of the past few months, James has been preparing the ground for a return to the lean, mean management style that was in place earlier and this could more than likely see more executive churn right through the Star system. At the top of that list of potential near term departures is Askew, currently on four months’ sick leave.
A possible offshoot of this could be that James will sooner rather than later have a far more role in running the affairs of Star, maybe take on a designation of chairman of Star or some such.direct
And truth is that Star really means India, the rest of it being not much more than feeder operations. So James will perforce have to send out a clear message there. The present neither here nor there two-CEO proposition has proved an unmitigated disaster.
If the head honchos at Star were convinced that Nair was the man to lead it into the new and uncertain digital future then they should have gone with him and let him do his job. The presence of a shadow CEO (Mukerjea) was a huge disservice to Nair and even more so to Mukerjea, who had helmed the fortunes of Star India in its period of greatest dominance.
POSTSCRIPT: The reasons for Nair’s deciding to quit (informed sources say he put in his papers on 28 December) remain shrouded in mystery because his is after all the most high profile media chief executive’s job in the country (shadow CEO notwithstanding). If anyone could be said to have had reasons to quit it was Mukerjea, and by current reckonings, both have resigned. So there is certainly some serious damage control that newly inducted CEO Aiello has to deal with when he arrives in India on Monday.
MUMBAI: 2025 will be remembered as the year India’s OTT industry stopped chasing scale for its own sake and began reckoning with how audiences actually consume content. Completion rates fell, patience wore thin and the limits of long-form excess became impossible to ignore. In this guest column, Pratap Jain, founder and CEO of ChanaJor, traces how micro-drama moved from the fringes to the centre of viewing behaviour, why short-form fiction emerged as a retention engine rather than a trend, and how platforms that respected time, habit and emotional payoff were the ones that truly grew up in 2025.
If there is one thing 2025 will be remembered for in the Indian OTT industry, it’s this: the industry finally stopped pretending.
Stopped pretending that bigger automatically meant better.
Stopped pretending that viewers had endless time.
Stopped pretending that scale without retention was success.
What began as a quiet reset in 2023 and a cautious correction in 2024 turned into a very visible shift in 2025. Business models matured. Content strategies tightened. And most importantly, platforms started aligning themselves with how Indians actually watch content, not how the industry wished they would.
At the centre of this shift was micro-drama—not as a trend, but as a behavioural inevitability.
When OTT finally understood the time problem
For years, long episodes were treated as a marker of seriousness. A 45–60 minute runtime was almost a badge of credibility. Shorter formats were pushed to the margins, labelled as “snack content” or “mobile-only.”
That belief quietly collapsed in 2025.
What platform data showed very clearly was not a drop in interest—but a drop in patience. Viewers weren’t rejecting stories. They were rejecting commitment.
Across platforms, the same patterns appeared:
* First-episode drop-offs on long-form shows kept increasing
* Completion rates continued to slide
* Viewers were sampling more titles but finishing fewer
At the same time, shows with episodes in the six to 10 minute range started showing the opposite behaviour: higher completion, higher repeat viewing, and stronger daily habit formation.
Micro-drama didn’t win because it was short. It won because it respected time.
Micro-Drama didn’t arrive loudly. It took over quietly.
There was no single moment when micro-drama “launched” in India. It crept in through dashboards and retention charts.
By mid-2025, it was clear that viewers were happy watching four, five, sometimes six short episodes in one sitting—even when they wouldn’t finish a single long episode. Romance, relationship drama, slice-of-life conflict, and grounded comedy worked especially well.
This wasn’t disposable content. It was compressed storytelling.
In shorter formats, there was no room for indulgence. Every episode had to move the story forward. Weak writing was punished faster. Strong writing was rewarded immediately.
Micro-drama raised the bar instead of lowering it.
Where ChanaJor naturally fit into this shift
ChanaJor didn’t pivot to micro-drama in 2025 because the market demanded it. In many ways, the platform was already built around the same viewing behaviour.
From the beginning, ChanaJor focused on short-to-mid-length fictional stories that felt close to everyday Indian life—hostels, rented flats, office romances, small-town relationships, young people figuring things out. Stories that didn’t need heavy context or cinematic scale to connect.
What worked in ChanaJor’s favour in 2025 was clarity:
* A clearly defined audience
* Tight episode lengths
* Storytelling that prioritised emotion and pace over spectacle
While several platforms rushed to copy global micro-drama formats, ChanaJor stayed rooted in familiar Indian settings and conflicts. That familiarity mattered. Viewers didn’t have to “enter” the world of the show—it already felt like theirs.
Why audiences started responding differently
One of the biggest misconceptions going into 2025 was that audiences wanted shorter content because their attention spans had reduced. That wasn’t entirely true.
What viewers actually wanted was meaningful payoff per minute.
On platforms like ChanaJor, episodes didn’t waste time setting the mood for ten minutes. Conflicts arrived early. Characters were recognisable within moments. Emotional hooks landed fast.
A typical consumption pattern looked like real life:
* One episode during a break
* Two more before sleeping
* A few the next day
This is how viewing habits are built—not through marketing spends, but through comfort and consistency.
Viewers came back not because every show was a blockbuster, but because they knew what kind of experience to expect.
2025 was also the year OTT faced business reality
The other big change in 2025 was on the business side. Subscriber growth slowed. Discounts stopped hiding churn. Customer acquisition costs rose.
Platforms were forced to ask harder questions:
* Are viewers finishing what they start?
* Are they returning without reminders?
* Is this content worth what we’re spending on it?
This is where micro-drama began outperforming expectations. A well-written short series could deliver sustained engagement without massive budgets. It didn’t peak for one weekend and disappear—it stayed alive through repeat viewing.
Platforms like ChanaJor benefited because they weren’t chasing inflated launch numbers. The focus was on consistency and retention, not noise.
Failures Became Visible Faster
2025 also exposed weaknesses brutally.
Several platforms assumed micro-drama was a shortcut—short episodes, quick shoots, instant traction. What they discovered was that bad writing fails faster in short formats than in long ones.
Viewers dropped off within minutes. Episodes were abandoned mid-way. Weak stories had nowhere to hide.
Micro-drama didn’t forgive laziness. It amplified it.
The platforms that survived were the ones that treated short storytelling with the same seriousness as long-form—sometimes more.
OTT Stopped Chasing Prestige and Started Chasing Habit
Perhaps the most important shift in 2025 wasn’t technical or creative—it was psychological.
OTT stopped trying to look like cinema. It stopped chasing validation through scale and awards alone. It began behaving like what it actually is in people’s lives: a daily companion.
Platforms like ChanaJor found their space here because that mindset was already baked in. The goal wasn’t to dominate a weekend launch. It was to quietly become part of someone’s everyday viewing routine.
That shift changed everything—from release strategies to how success was measured.
What 2025 Ultimately Taught the Industry
By the end of the year, three truths were impossible to ignore:
* Time is the most valuable thing a viewer gives you
* Retention matters more than reach
* Format must follow behaviour, not ego
Micro-drama didn’t take over because it was fashionable. It took over because it fit real life.
Looking Ahead
Micro-drama is not replacing long-form storytelling. It is redefining the baseline of engagement.
Longer shows will survive—but only when they earn their length. Short-form fiction will continue to evolve, becoming sharper, more emotionally confident, and better written.
Platforms like ChanaJor have shown that it’s possible to grow without shouting—by understanding the audience, respecting their time, and telling stories that feel real.
2025 wasn’t the year OTT became smaller. It was the year it became smarter.
Note: The views expressed in this article are solely the author’s and do not necessarily reflect our own.
