While HBO rebranded itself into confusion, Apple TV+ quietly stole the prestige TV crown.

Once upon a time—say, 1988—you stayed up late to watch Dream On, felt kinda weird watching Real Sex, and your cool uncle Tom loved The Larry Sanders Show. That was HBO. A destination. A prestige flex. The TV equivalent of an Eames lounger and a car phone.

And before every one of those shows?
That intro.

That HBO intro was a whole event. A late-night aerial tour over suburbia, a zoom through the city, then boom straight into a chrome-plated HBO logo with purple lasers (nothing said ’80s and ’90s magic like purple lasers); and that theme song? It was the sound of your living room transforming into a movie theater in 5.1 Dolby glory.
(real talk: my living room had a 13” Zenith from Kmart with sound adjacent, but I’m sure others had surround sound.)

When you heard that music, you didn’t even know what show was coming… but you knew it was gonna be premium.

So imagine my Gen-X confusion when HBO – home to Fraggle Rock, Real Sports,Tales from the Crypt and the holiday classic Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas – let the corporate overlords strip its name like it was just another soulless streaming app begging for my $14.99.

In 2023, Warner Bros. pulled a fast one and rebranded HBO to HBO Max then to Max. Just Max?!

WTH is Max? Is Max a person? Is he the host? Is this some half-baked attempt to make Cinemax sound cooler by dropping the “Cine”?

PSA: Nobody ever called Cinemax “Max.” You can’t just give yourself a nickname. That’s not how branding or high school works. Trust me, I once tried to make Blade Becker happen in 10th grade.

Max? Max what? Max effort to confuse people?

Here’s the thing: HBO has one of the strongest brand equities in entertainment. You say “HBO,” and people immediately think of prestige TV and Sunday night appointment viewing.

You say “Max,” and people start making Skinemax jokes like they didn’t spend half their adolescence pretending they don’t know Shannon Tweed. 

Meanwhile, HBO wasn’t just serving shows it was shaping the future of entertainment:

HBO was a Michelin-starred meal. Cinemax was gas station sushi and yet… they merged them, even though orange juice and toothpaste would be like “that’s an odd pairing.” So…why?

Because Bundling™.

The corporate logic was: take all the content HBO, Discovery, Magnolia, Looney Tunes, Fixer Upper: Divorce Edition and mash it into one app called “Max.”

But that move? That was brand betrayal.
It’s like dropping the name Porsche and just calling it Car.

And while HBO was rebranding itself into confusion, Apple TV+ quietly snatched the prestige TV crown right from Robert Baratheon. 

Shows like Severance, Ted Lasso, The Morning Show, and Servant became what HBO used to be: must-watch, high-quality, conversation-starting television.

Apple didn’t try to be everything for everyone; they just doubled down on excellence. No clutter. No identity crisis. 

Why The HBO Rebrand Flopped:

Even Showtime HBO’s longtime scrappy rival figured out how to deliver marquee originals: Dexter, Homeland, Californication, Billions. You might not have subscribed forever, but you knew exactly what you were getting between boxing matches.

Meanwhile, Cinemax? Just a lot of dim lighting, saxophone music, and Shannon Tweed. (Night Eyes 2 is our Citizen Kane). 

Other CMO Faceplants:

The Return to HBO: All the Right Moves (starring Tom Cruise)

After a year of corporate identity crisis, Max is crawling back to HBO like it forgot its phone, keys and dignity.

Let HBO be HBO. Let the crown sit on the head for which it was built (cue Game of Thrones intro).

This entire saga should be mandatory viewing for every marketing exec with a rebrand itch:

Don’t erase what made you iconic.
Nostalgia is currency. Legacy is leverage.
And HBO—actual HBO—still means something.

Bring back the name.

Bring back the premium.
Bring back the chrome letters in the sky.
Bring back The Idol for another season (too far)? 

Because when that orchestral intro hits…
we won’t just watch TV.
We will feel it.  

Like how you feel Shannon Tweed’s pathos in Body Chemistry 4: Full Exposure.

-Blade