Where’s your whimsy?

Allow me to lament for a moment at the loss of whimsy I see so frequently. Every time I
see a movie with low ratings that’s simply labeled “bad” for being so ludicrous, so absurd, that it
couldn’t possibly happen in real life. How dare this work of fiction be unrealistic? This isn’t
some children’s playground, this is cinema! We don’t watch movies; we watch films!

I first recall mourning whimsy when I realized not everyone in the world loves Punisher:
War Zone (2008) as much as I do (just hear me out). How could a movie with such creative and
colorful lighting, exciting action, scathing political commentary (for a Hollywood superhero
movie in 2008), and a sincere emotional core be given a label as simple as “bad”? Unfortunately,
around this same moment in time, I noticed how beloved The Dark Knight (2008) is with (at the
time of writing) an average Letterboxd rating of 4.5/5 compared to an average of 2.7/5 for
Punisher: War Zone. A movie that’s twice the run time of War Zone, showcasing a variety of
beiges, with nothing compelling to say beyond “society, eh?” is considered one of the best
superhero movies of all time while a movie that has a distinct style is left in the dust and labeled
“bad.” In my quest to understand why this is the case, the most common answer I find is that The
Dark Knight is realistic which makes it serious which makes it mature which means you’re
totally not a nerd if you like it.

To all of this I say: where’s your whimsy? Why are descriptors like “realistic” and
“serious” criteria for good in the realm of fiction? Why is being realistic a mark of integrity in a
medium that by design displays the unreal? Did post 9/11 cinema become so gritty and dark that we’re permanently stuck in a void of beige? Well, no. Every once in a while, there’s a bright spot
on the wall of neutral colors that is mainstream cinema. Everything Everywhere All at Once
(2022), Poor Things (2023), Barbie (2023), Sinners (2025), Superman (2025), or even the
Wicked duology (2024 & 2025) being recent examples that have helped restore some hope for
me as far as live action cinema goes. However, even these movies cannot save whimsy because
there can be no unhindered enjoyment of whimsy if we consider our own joy to be at most a
modicum of what attests to a film’s quality.

We don’t value our own joy enough.

How sad I feel when a review says, “I had fun, but…” or “I liked it, but…” as though
liking a movie and feeling happy, content, or satisfied while watching a movie isn’t a real reason
to say a movie was good. For example, a few years ago I saw a theatrical screening of Jason X
(2001), which is the tenth Friday the 13th movie. The experience was awesome. Everyone in the
theater was laughing and generally having a good time. I personally enjoy watching Jason X, so
naturally I went on Letterboxd and gave the movie five stars out of five. What surprised me was
that people I personally knew, people I know for a fact had an amazing time watching the movie,
people who walked out of the theater and told me “I love this movie” only gave it two stars at
most. I find it unsettling that someone could see a movie, have an amazing time, feel pure joy,
claim they love that movie because of the joy it brought, and in the same breath say that their
own joy is only worth two stars.

A note on award shows.

This problem of devaluing joy arose in part because we’re so caught up in the award
show mindset that there are only some “prestige films” and everything else is “low art” that we can find fun, but we cannot take seriously lest we become commoners. We may love Jason X or
Punisher: War Zone, but don’t worry! We know they’re not actually good movies. Are movies
made to entertain? Not necessarily, but more likely than not, someone watches a movie to be
entertained. Devaluing the entertainment factor doesn’t make any sense when that’s the whole
reason someone watches a movie, yet here we are.

Are we doomed to forever condemn whimsical stories and cast joy aside for the sake of
sounding important? I often hear complaints along the lines of “award shows don’t care enough
about (x) genre or style” and that supposedly every problem within film culture would go away if
award shows got off their high horses. Yes, this could help because if the establishment that
decides what is or isn’t “high art” becomes more accepting, then people who hang on every word
of the establishment would also be more accepting. However, this wouldn’t actually fix the
problem because it still puts all the power into the hands of the establishment. No one lost their
whimsy because award shows told them to, they lost their whimsy because they gave award
shows far too much influence. If there is a solution to the problem, it’s to stop giving a damn
about who the Oscar goes to. At the end of the day, awards don’t matter, so we shouldn’t put so
much emphasis on the qualities that garner awards.

That being said, Sinners sweep.