It’s 7:50 p.m. on 1 October 2007 at AT&T Labs, in Florham Park, N.J., and three of us are frantically hitting the ”refresh” buttons on our browsers. We have just submitted our latest entry in the year-old Netflix Prize competition, which offers a grand prize of US $1 million for an algorithm that’s 10 percent more accurate than the one Netflix uses to predict customers’ movie preferences. Although we have not reached that milestone, we are hoping at least to do better than anyone else has done so far; if we can make it to 8 p.m. with the best score, we’ll win a $50 000 Progress Prize. For most of the summer we’d been ahead of our nearest rivals by a comfortable margin, and as recently as 36 hours before this moment, our victory still seemed to be a slam dunk.
The previous day, though, the lead had started to slip away from us. First, the teams then in fifth and sixth places merged, combining their talents to vault into second place, making us nervous enough to submit our best effort, which we had been saving for a rainy day. But before our improved score appeared, we were hit by another combination when our two remaining serious rivals joined forces to tie us. Worse, their entry had come 72 seconds before ours, meaning that in the case of a tie, they’d win.
Seventy-two seconds! Could we lose this thing for being a minute too late? Then we realized that there were still 25 hours left, and we still had one more chance. We had to make it count.
We began to receive offers from other competitors to combine our scores with theirs. We politely declined them and planned strategies for our last submission. Sure enough, these bumped up our score by a few hundredths of a percent, at which point we could only wait to see the final score from our newly allied foes.
Refresh...refresh...refresh...
Since 1997, when Netflix, of Los Gatos, Calif., came up with the idea of sending movie DVDs through the mail to subscribers, its customer base has grown to 10 million. That success stems, in part, from the company’s giving quick and easy access to movies. But just as important is the Netflix recommender system, Cinematch, which helps customers get the most out of their memberships. The better the system predicts people’s likes and dislikes, the more they’ll enjoy the movies they watch and the longer they’ll keep up their subscriptions.
As a new subscriber to Netflix, you have several ways to choose movies on the company’s Web site. You can browse by genre or search by keyword for a title, actor, or director. After receiving your selections by mail or over the Internet and viewing them, you return to the site to order more movies. At any time, Cinematch lets you rate any movie you’ve seen by clicking on one to five stars.
As is the case with other recommender systems, such as those of Amazon, the Internet Movie Database, and Pandora, it’s in the customer’s interest to vote thoughtfully, because doing so helps Netflix figure out his or her tastes. Yet even if the customer declines to offer this feedback, Netflix still notes which movies the subscriber actually orders. After the customer has rated a handful of movies, the algorithm will start recommending titles based on the rating the algorithm predicts the customer will give.
Recommending movies that customers will enjoy is a complex business. The easy part is gathering the data, which Netflix now accumulates at the rate of some 2 million ratings a day. Much tougher is to find patterns in the data that tell the company which movie a customer would enjoy, if only the person would watch it.
Netflix developed Cinematch to tackle this job using a well-known prediction technique (described below), which it designed to handle the billion or so ratings it had already logged. However, while incorporating so many ratings added to accuracy, it also took a lot of work just to keep up with the increasing scale, let alone to test alternative prediction schemes.































