Late in the cycle of the VHS era, TV ushered in fresh new content in an attempt to breathe fresh life into the platform of basic cable. You may have had 40-50 channels, but often times at night, nothing was on. If you wanted to watch movies, you had to pay for those channels. After 10pm, most channels went to infomercials, paid programming, or just turned off completely. In those times, Bravo bailed out the night owls with some unique perspective. This channel had the market cornered on random and obscure, and I was here for it.
For the first time you could tune in to a channel with very limited commercials, with breaks and channel programming announced by a melodic deep voice with dreamy transitions. There was a new or old live recording of Cirque Du Soleil on damn near every night. Live concerts, movies only screened at Cannes film festival, and weekends of rare london underground punk movies complete with nudity and violence. My step mother got me into enjoying theatre, so you can imagine my surprise when over the holidays there was a Broadway marathon including CATS- something I did not see live until around college age.
I was introduced to independant and low budget cinema from watching Bravo past 2am on a weekdays. Films that would never find their way to America got limited viewing and promotion; rare back then. Trainspotting would come on at midnight, London Kills me at 2am, and Blue Juice at 3:45. I worked nights, never slept. This level of chaotic programming was right up my alley and expanded what I knew about international and foreign movies, which at the time as basically nothing.
I have a fond memory of an experience I owe to my girlfriend at the time, who was out of town, calling me to tell me to tune into Bravo. There was a movie that I would like on, you should watch it. We ended up on the phone for over an hour watching the greater part of The Name of the Rose starring Sean Connery. My first watch, but I had read the Umberto Ecco book before, but it had been a while. I had no idea this movie existed, and we watched it on the phone together in silence until the breaks where we speculated what was going to happen next. What a rare treat at the time to catch something as meaningful and as profound as this movie on basic cable at the ripe old age of 15. The commercial breaks were minimal, complete with subdued lighting and noise. Before the movie resumed, a narrator explained the differences between the movie and the book, and speculated director choices. After the movie, there was an interview with Umberto Ecco. This was peak nerd shit, I'm telling you. I was fucking hooked.
I learned so much about music. I had no idea Frida had her own album that she launched solo in the early 80's, let alone the fact that Phil Collins wrote and performed the whole thing, did all the work, and really just did not get along with the ABBA alum.. but here we are at 1:30am watching a whole retrospective about how the music was made. Down the rabbit hole we go as the next 5 hours of programming were devoted to live Genesis performances synced to pictures and videos of art and people dancing. Strange but powerful. The arts shape the young mind, and so I was indeed molded to be interested in media I did not wholly understand.
TLDR; Bravo was a way normal people in America could be cultured in the 90's without breaking the bank, and consume media that you never knew existed.
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