Are we becoming allergic or intolerant to romance outside of its genre? Why are romantic movies saying goodbye?
I assumed that in a post-pandemic world, we would be more open and accepting of romantic dynamics and physical touch in the media, not aggressively opposed to them.
The hunger caused by the lockdown was real.
Aversion to romance is out of control
Whether it’s quickly forgotten or Gen Z’s extreme shift toward a stricter approach to physical affection in the media, it seems as if the media has swung this pendulum too far toward an aversion to romance.
I get that to an extent; there’s nothing more annoying than watching a show that forces us to have unnecessary nudity and undue sex scenes that do nothing to further the plot.
Premium TV channels aired these scenes like a serious Footlocker salesperson getting extra commission during back-to-school.
But the answer wasn’t to ban romance altogether unless it was a central theme of a series or movie.
The call for it has been the reason behind the criticism leveled at everything from Emmy-contesting series like The Bear, which proudly criticizes the hint of romance, to the most basic character-building moments in popular movies.
The general feeling is one of superiority and distaste for romance as a subgenre, let alone a genre.
There is an idea that there is no place for it, which has become so annoying that even the most indifferent cannot help but notice it.
But how this spread to everything was exaggerated.
Cutting off your nose to make your face look ugly is confusing, isn’t it?
Surprising twist in the story: Twisters almost fails to deal with Glen Powell and his romance
What do you mean we saw two conventionally attractive people like Glen Powell and Daisy Edgar-Jones have everything it takes to form a romantic relationship in the new Twisters movie, and then they never kiss in the end?
But why? Isn’t this the natural outcome of a romantic movie?
And if that wasn’t frustrating enough, we quickly learn that they did indeed kiss, but the scene was cut from the film.
Even a genius like Steven Spielberg, who thrives on the dedication and trust he’s earned from his fans over decades, hates joy, love, or even the simple pleasures of life, for goodness’ sake.
I would like to talk to him and the director who dared to say that the scene of Glen Powell, wearing a wet white shirt and cowboy hat and walking in the rain, was a scene that should have been left on the cutting room floor.
As if Glen Powell’s hot content wasn’t one of the film’s biggest selling points and among its most interesting scenes. Who Hurt You?
Thank God for whoever had the good sense to rebel against that person.
There’s a lot of talk about slow burn and longing, but you know what people want? They want closure, hope, satisfaction, and a little bit of damn romance!
Why do we try to adapt the expectations of long-running TV series to film?
Chasing key demos just to annoy them.
Glen Powell and the romance were clearly a huge selling point for Twisters to those who love romance and attractive people and that female demographic that studios compete to attract while simultaneously looking down on and disrespecting.
But let me not get off topic about the last part.
And then Twisters appeals to people who find those aspects of the movie particularly appealing, slapping their hands and laughing when the merchandise is in sight.
It’s as if the film, after all that prelude, is deliberately depriving us of the climax for the sake of enjoyment.
Nobody likes a joke, but romance certainly wasn’t the main focus of this movie.
But what can be said when movies with equal parts romance do the same thing?
State of the Union: Wasting the Sexual Appeal of Pop Culture Icons
Anyone who’s ever been bored and pressed the play button instead of letting their food get cold after endless scrolling and the part of Boston who wasn’t terrified or disturbed by the Wahlberg family growing up is watching The Union.
And the movie was exactly that – a thoughtless, controversial “fun” and “action” movie with no real plot, consisting of two recognizable faces that people enjoy.
Mark Wahlberg played the same character he always does but in a more ridiculous way, and Halle Berry brought back Storm’s haircut for a less-than-stellar Catwoman.
But they had fun, and it’s clear that two good friends from the past wanted to do a project together and play with their chemistry.
And they had it – chemistry, as childhood sweethearts with a subtle background of being torn apart by parental bigotry and the conflict between small towns and the big world or Something.
Honestly guys, I still don’t know the story behind this movie. Sorry.
The film gives us many of the classic features of a romantic comedy: the flirting, the long stares, the near-death moment that makes the other person scream and groan over the loss of the one they love, the playful banter, and the classic “Oh, no, there’s only one bed, and we have to share it!”
All good stuff, right?
Why can’t we just end things with a kiss?
And then we get to the end of the movie, where Roxanne, the quiet, sweet girl played by Perry, shows up at Mike’s friend’s wedding in Boston, and raises suspicions… in a makeout session in the coat closet, which we never actually get to see.
What is the reason?
How did we get a romantic, action-packed movie starring two historical sex symbols, and it turned out to be the least sexy or sexless movie ever?
I got C’s in chemistry, physics and biology, not because the potential wasn’t there, but because the effort wasn’t there.
The thought process behind this kiss-less romance movie was this concept of leaving fans wanting more and not giving them the whole meal in one bite.
We didn’t expect them to do all this. Why is everyone thinking about this so much?
They wanted to leave the audience wanting more so we could get the actual kissing and more of a possible happy ending in the sequel.
Seriously, where’s the love?
But the idea that The Union was anything of the caliber to merit a sequel is laughable in itself, and that’s before you consider that it’s on Netflix, a service notorious for canceling things we love, let alone things we’re not excited about.
Nobody’s holding their breath for a sequel to “The Union,” are they? Even if the means to call it “The Union Again” already exists.
It doesn’t even make the top ten of fun romantic comedies on Netflix that deserve a sequel, so why not give us a proper conclusion instead of doing the movie version by randomly cutting a book in the middle and calling it a thrilling ending to extend one book into a trilogy.
If we can’t even close explicit movie romances with a kiss when the plot merits it, what does that say about the state of things on screen now?
Are networks, production companies, creators, writers, etc. out of touch with reality?
What’s your take on this shift toward purging romance? Why do you think movies are saying goodbye to romance? Let’s hear it below!
