Photo courtesy of IMDb.com
Everyone knows the feeling of leaving a movie theater after a cinematic masterpiece, with many unanswered questions and the adrenaline rush leaving you reeling for more. Everyone also knows the feeling of returning gleefully to reclining seats and popcorn kernels for a continuation of your favorite movie, only to find yourself greeted by a mockery of everything you once loved. Sequels are increasingly becoming less a product of passion and human creativity, and more a product of industry and consumerism. Once iconic movies and franchises find themselves clawing desperately for relevance and Funko-Pop sales as they enter their 67th movie with recycled plotlines and watered-down characters. Where do we draw the line between sequel and slop? Franchise and failure?
Take the somewhat recent Scream 7 as a prime example in the horror industry. The latest installment sits at 30% on Rotten Tomatoes, a 5.5/10 on IMDB, and 2.2/5 on Letterboxd, which should say enough about its quality. What started as a small-town slasher centered on teenager Sidney Prescott cleverly commenting on horror clichés has become a horror cliché itself. Every time a Ghostface is defeated, another takes up the mantle, vowing to continue the mask’s bloody legacy. And every time, it lessens the permanence of previous movies’ endings and traps the franchise in a loop of endless, increasingly uninventive sequels. The killers have been Sidney’s lover, close friends, secret half-brother, random teenage cousin, and now, her neighbor. Rumor has it that the killer in the next movie is her dog.
A similar crisis has befallen the all-too-lovable, now all-too-exhausting Marvel Cinematic Universe. With Avengers: Doomsday on the near horizon, many fans groan at having to catch up on the sixteen forgettable films and seventeen television shows Marvel has put out since Avengers: Endgame. Highlights include Thor: Love and Thunder, a film whose attempts to replicate the humor of Thor: Ragnarok instead sound paraphrased from The Emoji Movie, and Secret Invasion, a TV series that wastes legend Samuel L. Jackson on Nick “what’s character development?” Furey. Whether Avengers: Doomsday will break the loop remains to be seen, but bringing back Robert Downey Jr. and Chris Evans has already cemented familiar doubts. Even so, its success remains the franchise’s last hope.
With the startling examples of Marvel and Scream aside, when are sequels justified? How do we end the sequel problem? In The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes, Lucy Gray Baird sums it up perfectly: “I only sing when I got something to say.” The Hunger Games franchise has kept the passion and meaningful writing that other franchises lack. For example, the upcoming The Hunger Games: Sunrise on the Reaping warns viewers about government propaganda and corruption while also promising powerful symbolism and compelling characters. The prequels following the original trilogy each have a clear thematic purpose beyond reaping a profit (pun intended). While it may have cameos, Funko Pops, and merchandise, the Hunger Games franchise has managed to get hold of something that Fast and Furious lost in its tenth movie and Terminator after its original sequel: a soul.
The sequel problem only ends when we put down AI-generated dialogue for something tangible, when we go to theaters to see innovative sequels, or even better: something completely original. Backrooms and Obsession made millions this summer, and, no matter personal opinions, K-Pop Demon Hunters became the most-watched film on Netflix of all time. These projects began to shift the film industry away from rushed, lifeless sequels; they brought something new. So for the rest of the year, be the change you want to see in the world: go see a well-crafted movie, and end the plague of sequel slop.