"I Hate This Beloved Movie—And Here’s Why"

I remember sitting in that overpacked theater, the crowd buzzing with excitement, fans wearing T-shirts of the movie’s characters, chattering about how many times they had seen it already. It wasn’t opening night, but the energy inside felt like it. Friends had dragged me here, practically forcing the ticket into my hand, saying things like, “You haven’t seen it yet? Oh my God, you’re going to LOVE it!”

I didn’t.

In fact, I hated it.

And yes—I’m talking about that movie.

The one that has a cult following the size of a small country. The one that won every award, got critical acclaim, inspired think pieces, merchandise, memes, and marriage proposals. The one you probably adore, quote often, and might even be wearing on a hoodie right now. For the sake of not turning this into an angry comment section, I won’t name it outright. But you probably already have a guess. And chances are, you're wrong—because the movie I hate is the last one you’d expect a film lover like me to despise.

I’ve wrestled with my dislike for years. At first, I blamed myself. Maybe I was in a bad mood that day. Maybe I missed some deeper meaning. Maybe I was too cynical. But after watching it a second and third time—yes, I gave it another chance—I finally accepted the truth:

This beloved movie just doesn’t work for me. And not in a casual meh kind of way. I mean actively irritates, frustrates, and makes me groan inwardly every time someone mentions it.

Let me tell you why.

1. It Romanticizes Toxic Behavior—and Gets Applauded for It

Let’s start with the central character. They’re supposed to be complex, a tortured soul battling inner demons. But what I saw was a manipulative, emotionally stunted individual who consistently made selfish decisions, hurt everyone around them, and rarely faced consequences.

And yet, the audience cheered.

There’s one scene in particular—hailed as “iconic”—where this character delivers a monologue that people have tattooed on their bodies. The theater erupted with applause. I sat there stunned. Because to me, that speech wasn’t brave or moving. It was manipulative. It gaslit another character and painted the speaker as a martyr when they were, frankly, just an asshole.

How did we get to a point where cruelty is misread as depth?

2. Style Over Substance

I get it. It’s visually stunning. The cinematography is breathtaking, every frame could be a painting, the score is haunting. That’s what everyone says—and yes, I agree on that part.

But that’s not enough.

It felt like the movie relied too heavily on aesthetics to distract from the hollowness underneath. Beautiful people delivering poetic lines in artfully lit scenes about “the pain of existence” doesn’t automatically make a film profound. Sometimes it just makes it pretentious.

The plot was thin, the characters barely changed, and yet we’re expected to interpret it as “deep” because it looked so cool doing it.

3. It’s a Mirror for Projection, Not a Window for Truth

I’ve had endless arguments about this. People say, “Well, you have to see yourself in it to understand.” But what if you don’t? What if the characters and their choices don’t reflect your reality at all? Is that a fault of the viewer—or the filmmaker?

A good film, in my opinion, should invite you in—not require you to already belong to its echo chamber.

I watched this movie and felt locked out. Not in a challenging, provocative way, but in a condescending, elitist way. Like it wasn’t made for people like me—it was made to be admired from afar by those who already agreed with it.

4. Its Fandom Makes It Worse

Let’s talk about the fans.

Liking a movie should be a personal experience. But the fandom around this particular film is relentless. If you admit you didn’t like it, you're not just expressing an opinion—you’re committing cinematic heresy. You’re met with gasps, mockery, or long-winded TED Talks on “why you’re wrong.”

They quote it constantly, as if every line is gospel. They compare every new movie to it. They shut down dissent with snobbery disguised as passion. The fandom isn’t just enthusiastic—they’re militant.

Honestly, I might’ve disliked the movie less if people stopped shoving it in my face every two weeks.

5. It Overshadowed Better Films

The year this movie came out, several incredible films also premiered—quiet, brilliant, emotionally layered stories that barely got attention. But they were drowned out by the noise. One got buried because it didn’t have a big studio. Another was dismissed because it dared to tell its story through joy rather than gloom.

But none of them had an army of online devotees. None had viral marketing. None were fetishized for their “gritty realism” or “tragic ambiguity.” They were just… honest films. And they were ignored.

That still stings.

So Why Speak Up Now?

Because silence gives power to groupthink.

It’s okay to dislike something popular. It’s okay to think critically about art, even when it’s beloved. In fact, especially when it’s beloved. That’s how culture evolves—by questioning what we revere.

I’m not trying to change anyone’s mind. If this movie brought you joy, catharsis, healing—hold onto that. That’s beautiful. But don’t demand that everyone else bow to the same altar.

Some of us watched it and saw nothing but a hollow temple.

The Irony of It All

You know what’s funny? Despite my dislike, this movie taught me something.

It taught me the importance of dissent. It taught me that taste is personal, not universal. That loving film doesn’t mean loving every film.

And it taught me that sometimes, the bravest thing a film lover can do… is admit they didn’t like the one everyone else worships.

So yeah, I hate this beloved movie. And now you know why.

And if you’re reading this and secretly feel the same way—I see you.

You're not alone in the dark theater.