Era of Overstimulation

The commentary that has elevated lately on the supposed downturn in theater attendance and the alleged decline in the quality of films is not new, but does have new information to add to its merit. Yet, I don’t buy the idea that quality is on the downturn. Quite the opposite. In fact, I think we’re in an era where some of the best storytelling and filmmaking in decades are being produced. The problem isn’t with the films themselves; it’s with the sheer volume of distractions competing for our attention.

The 1980’s. The blockbuster machine of that era was driven by “turn and burn” filmmaking thanks to Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer, who designed the high concept formula. Treating the industry solely as a product first not an art form.

But things have evolved since then. Big-budget films today—at least the best of them—are made with greater care. Filmmakers like Christopher Nolan, Denis Villeneuve, and Greta Gerwig are raising the bar on blockbuster storytelling, blending art and commerce in ways that weren’t happening 40 years ago. Even within franchise filmmaking, there’s more effort to craft meaningful narratives, thanks in part to industry leaders like Bob Iger, who’ve pushed the idea that quality comes first and the profits will follow. And you know what? He’s right—up to a point.

Yet despite these advancements in craft, theater attendance continues to decline. Why? Because we’re overstimulated. Plain and simple. Think about your daily routine 10 years ago. What was the extent of your multimedia consumption? You might have listened to a CD in your car or caught a podcast. When you got home, Netflix was still mailing DVDs, and streaming as we know it today barely existed. Major films were still events—things you had to leave the house for.

Fast forward to now. We have streaming services everywhere. Disney+, Netflix, HBO Max, and others offer massive libraries of content for less than the price of a single movie ticket. Most people have a giant TV at home with surround sound, and you can watch anything you want while cooking dinner or scrolling through your phone. It’s absurdly convenient. Why drive to a theater and pay $20 for a ticket, snacks, and gas when you can press a button and get a premium experience at home?

But it’s not just streaming that’s changed things. Social media is probably the biggest factor pulling audiences away from theaters. Platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube deliver a constant stream of quick-hit entertainment. Every time you open an app, you’re bombarded with short videos designed to trigger instant dopamine releases. It’s addictive, and it’s rewiring our brains. Studies have shown that heavy social media use shortens attention spans and reduces patience for slower, more immersive storytelling. The endless scroll is numbing us to the point where, by the time the latest Marvel or Star Wars film drops, we’re already mentally checked out.

There’s a metaphor here. Imagine we’re on the Yellow Brick Road. At the end of the path is the grand “Castle of Oz”—this incredible cinematic experience that took years to craft. But along the way, we get distracted by carnival barkers and street salesmen peddling quick thrills. By the time we reach the castle, we’re too tired to care about courage, brains, or heart. We’re content to stay with the munchkins, endlessly walking in circles. That’s the state of our entertainment consumption today. Our subconscious is constantly being fed by superficial content that’s easy to digest but ultimately unsatisfying.

The irony is that many of us know this. We recognize that a two-hour, well-crafted film can offer something more profound than hours of social media, but our brains are so overstimulated that we hesitate to engage with it. We opt for the path of least resistance because it’s easier.

As creators, we’re in an uncanny valley. Social media is a necessary evil—it’s how we reach audiences and build careers. But the quality of what we create matters more than ever. Most of what’s online is just sugar: short, mindless content designed to trigger quick dopamine hits. The real challenge is creating the 2%—the meat and vegetables—that feeds the mind and soul. We need stories that cut through the noise, and remain that beacon that offers something much more to those willing to journey outside the norm.

There’s no going back to the way things were. Human minds are going roll into convenience, but will strive to see elevated places. Theaters won’t disappear entirely, but they’ll likely become more niche, focusing on premium experiences that justify the cost. Streaming is here to stay, and with it, the expectation that audiences can consume media whenever and wherever they want. At the same time, we have to grapple with the fact that attention is a limited resource. If we want to capture it, we need to strike a balance between innovation and tradition. We need to embrace new tools like AI while pushing for quality over quantity.

The appetite for great stories hasn’t gone away—it’s just being drowned out by noise. As storytellers, our job is to cut through that noise, to build castles that are worth the journey. It won’t be easy, but the best stories never are.