If you are like me and don’t want to go out when it’s scorching hot outside, no matter what day of the week it is, you’d probably pop in for a movie. In my search for a good Friday night movie, Now You See Me: Now You Don’t popped up. And of course, like any proper movie lover, I rewatched the first two movies in the series, only to be disappointed. Not that I didn’t see the problems when I first watched them, but seeing them again irritated me. It prompted me to write these few words about a feeling I have had for quite some time now: there are a few major problems that have become increasingly common in the movie world.
Milking the Cow
Movies today never seem to end. Think, for example, of the Marvel Cinematic Universe – or any similar project, for that matter – a universe that keeps expanding, with multiple new superheroes and stories constantly being introduced. And it works precisely because it is meant to work that way. There is nothing inherently wrong with having an expanding universe. At the same time, it doesn’t always work either, as the box office can tell us. But when they faltered, it was not because they lacked the tools to tell good stories. They simply produced subpar movies on many occasions.
And then think of the many other major successes that simply could not be left alone. James Cameron’s Avatar, a major success by more than enough metrics, was not enough. It had to have sequels. Katniss Everdeen overthrew the regime and got her sort of happily ever after. We cheered at the conclusion. Her story was over, and yet the Hunger Games world keeps growing. Harry Potter was no different: Harry’s story had an ending, but the world didn’t stop expanding through new stories and movies.
The magical world of Harry Potter can offer so much – after all, it’s magical. But once it has given us a satisfying ending, what do we really gain by reopening it, simply because it remains commercially valuable?
To wrap things up here, I’ll use one of my favorite movies, V for Vendetta. Not a perfect movie, but one that hit close to the mark in my book. It is a movie that I rewatch every few years, especially on the 5th of November. If it randomly pops up when I am changing the channels on TV, I stop right away. With that being said, what if there was a second, or a third, V movie? What if we had an origin story because the glimpse we got into V’s past in the movie was not enough? What if we were given the drama of post-revolution London because seeing the people wearing the masks, marching towards the barricades, was not enough? A new prequel or sequel, no matter how good it might be on its own, could ruin the experience of V for Vendetta simply because V’s story ended. Unlike in mathematics, adding sometimes takes something away: the mystery, the finality, and even some of the beauty of the story.
Movies and Politics
Coming from a rather non-conformist political persuasion myself, I often ask myself whether I am being unfair to a movie when its politics irritate me. And then I think of movies I like that were riddled with politics, much of which I strongly disagreed with, and I realize that it isn’t the politics themselves. It’s the way they are shoved down our throats.
———— Related: William Irwin: Living Without a Script ————
Going back to where we started with Now You See Me: Now You Don’t, we will find that exact problem. When we are introduced to the new characters, we are suddenly thrown lines about a promising acting career being cut short by crippling student loans. Then comes the take that the “olds” broke the planet and that it is the younger generation’s job to clean up their mess, only for it to be followed by a simple “Am I wrong?” and a resounding “No.” The problem here is not whether I agree with the politics. It is the way the writers chose to present them to me, as if the movie itself needed to make sure I understood which side was right. And if you think I am exaggerating a single conversation in the movie, ask yourself whether anything about the story would change if we were not introduced to this flimsy backstory.
On the other hand, one of my rather more enjoyable movies, A Time to Kill, has a perfect scene that is the total opposite. Where politics is done not only right, but in the best way possible: through the characters rather than through the writer. (I will not spoil the movie here, but if you have not watched it, you are missing out.) See, the movie takes place in 1984 in Mississippi, where two of the lawyers are discussing the death penalty during a meal. When they realize they differ on the issue, Ellen Roark (Sandra Bullock), an idealistic law student from Massachusetts, is offended and tells Jake Brigance (Matthew McConaughey), “For some reason I thought you were a liberal.” And this is the great part of the scene: we, the audience, are presented with two coherent arguments regarding the death penalty, and the scene ends. We know what the characters think and we know their motivations. We even understand their characters better after the scene. The movie allows for the disagreement to exist. By not resolving the issue, it leaves us to our own devices to make the decision about whose reasoning we support. We are left with a debate to be had about the issue after the movie, perhaps over lunch with the friends we have watched the movie with.
Shitty Plots
How many times have you heard someone say, “back in my day, x was better?” How many times have you said this? I know I have both heard this and said this at the same time. More often than not, I reckon, it’s just nostalgia for a different time when one was younger, living a life with far fewer obligations than adulthood brings. And yet, it does feel like good movies today are harder to find. You can, of course, blame everything but the movie itself. And that seems to be an increasingly easy way out in Hollywood. After all, the all-female Ghostbusters: Answer the Call was not a bust because its plot sucked, but because of misogyny at large. And Ghostbusters is hardly the only example of a movie that failed at the box office only to place the blame on something esoteric. I could pull plenty of others out of a hat; this is simply the first one that came to mind. Sometimes a movie is simply bad. Sometimes the plot sucks. And perhaps that is not such a complicated explanation after all.
On the other hand, there have been some clear winners. Top Gun: Maverick is a good example. It had an excellent cast and played on our emotions with nostalgia. Then again, it had a derivative premise and derivative characters. And yet, it worked because it delivered on what it promised: among other things, a good and enjoyable plot. It gave us characters whose lives we cannot completely relate to – after all, we ain’t gonna be fighter pilots. But we were with them on the mission. We felt what they felt. We cheered when they won because we won with them.
If you are more into the superhero genre, Superman (2025) and Spider-Man: Brand New Day are more recent examples. If mystery is more your thing, there is the Knives Out franchise. For something, in lack of better words, more fun, there is Bullet Train. And what do all these picks of mine have in common? They are good movies because they achieve what they promise to do. They give you the comedy, the superhero story, the mystery, or the action, while moving the plot forward and developing the characters along the way. They don’t need to reinvent the wheel. They simply need to make the wheel turn.
What Hollywood Keeps Getting Wrong
Am I contradicting myself throughout these words? Well, no. There are a few problems in Hollywood that can ruin the experience. You can blame the writers’ strike from a few years ago; you can blame CGI and AI; you can blame oversaturation of certain genres; you can even blame the audience, as some have done. To some degree, all of that might be the case, and more. But in the end, shitty plots make bad movies. Political messages that serve no purpose make bad movies, especially in an art form that people often turn to as an escape from the politics of everyday life. And, to make a full circle, constantly continuing movies in the same universes simply because they “will make money” makes bad movies too.
A sequel isn’t inherently bad. A sequel after the story has ended, or one without a story worth telling, is. Politics in movies are no different: there is nothing wrong with characters having political beliefs, but there is a problem when the movie stops being a story and becomes an argument. And originality was never the measure of a good movie either – Home Alone is basically Die Hard for children, and yet both movies work! What matters is whether the moviemakers remember why moviegoers come to watch in the first place.
The problem is not that Hollywood stopped being capable of making good movies. It is that good movies increasingly feel like exceptions rather than the default. But at the same time, it is us who still pay for shitty movies to be made. Remember, if no one is buying, no one would be selling.
—— Related: Wonder Woman and the Wonders of Prosperity ——