Is Cinema Dying?

I may be wrong. I may actually be right. But at least this is the start of a conversation that is crucial.

The studio culture, franchise dominance, and the expansion of cinematic universes might be reshaping our perception of cinema—its experience, its truth, and its artistry.

Take, for instance, the controversial decision to digitally resurrect Carrie Fisher’s Leia Skywalker in the final installment of the Star Wars franchise. Despite Fisher's passing, the decision to reintroduce her character using CGI raised ethical concerns about how we honor the legacies of artists and the integrity of their work.

Or consider the current trend of superhero films. While they dominate the box office, many of these films prioritize quippy dialogue and pop culture references over substantial storytelling. Films like Thor: Love and Thunder and Deadpool 2 offer entertainment, but do they contribute anything meaningful to the cinematic landscape, or are they simply empty spectacles?

Then there's the trend of countless spin-offs and extended universe phases, notably in the Marvel and DC franchises. What started as innovative storytelling has increasingly become an exercise in maintaining revenue through a constant barrage of cameos and crossovers. Films like The Flash and Eternals often feel like they’re treading water, banking on established characters and past successes rather than delivering fresh, engaging narratives.

Consider the case of Joss Whedon’s Justice League, which was significantly reshot and re-released as Zack Snyder’s Justice League after the original's disappointing performance. This situation reflects a troubling trend where studio interference and executive decisions undermine the creative process, affecting both the quality of the film and the audience's experience.

It’s disheartening to think of the many brilliant directors—Scorsese, Kubrick, Spielberg, Tarantino, Nolan, Hitchcock, Bay, Jackson, Gerwig, Fincher, Inarritu, Baumbach—who find their work overshadowed by the studio system’s fixation on franchise formulas and extended universes. Their innovative visions are often lost in the noise of predictable blockbuster formulas.

The current landscape is dominated by studios that prioritize marketability over creativity. Mainstream cinema often resorts to glamorized marketing, flashy one-liners, special appearances, or controversial headlines (like the recent drama surrounding Aquaman with Johnny Depp and Amber Heard) to draw in audiences. Yet, many viewers leave feeling disappointed rather than entertained.

This phenomenon was evident even before the pandemic, which only accelerated the shift towards streaming services and digital content. The rise of platforms like Netflix and Disney+ has fundamentally altered how we consume media, blurring the lines between film and content.

The failure of Quibi—a short-lived streaming service that attempted to capitalize on mobile viewing—illustrates the complexities of adapting cinematic experiences to new formats. Its collapse underscores that simply repackaging content in new ways doesn’t guarantee success or quality.

Perhaps cinema should be distinguished from the broader category of “content.” As Martin Scorsese aptly put it: “I don’t see them,” he said, referring to superhero movies. “I tried, you know? But that’s not cinema.” (Scorsese is a personal favorite after Inarritu)

Let’s not forget what makes cinema special. It’s not just about filling seats but about creating experiences that resonate, provoke thought, and reflect the human condition. - Aayush Agrawal