Has Modern Hollywood lost its grit?

By Ben Konuch

There’s a fascinating trend sweeping through modern blockbuster films, and if you look hard enough, you may be able to spot it underneath all the action and spectacle. Hollywood is not necessarily in danger of bad writing, bad acting or even anything to do with visual effects, and it’s certainly not the empty accusation that Hollywood is no longer creative. 

No, my issue with modern Hollywood is something that I’ve seen grow over the last decade and came into full view with 2024’s “Gladiator II.” Hollywood has lost its grit.

This doesn’t mean that Hollywood has lost its reliance or at times its overabundance of violence. In fact, the 2010’s and 2020’s have seen some of the most successful R-rated releases in history. Instead, the meaning of grit here means more than how much violence is presented in a film or whether or not blood appears. Grit is connected to the ways stories are presented, the styles that are used to film a scene or design a set and costume, that determine whether or not reality feels accurately presented.

Merriam-Webster defines gritty as “having strong qualities of tough uncompromising realism.” That’s a perfect definition for what modern films are beginning to lack. Watching “Gladiator II” right after seeing the Ridley Scott epics of the early 2000s such as “Gladiator” and “Kingdom of Heaven,” the grit – or absence of it – is palpable in almost every category. Fights seem too clean, too refined, for a film about the vicious barbarity of arena combat. The tight, often claustrophobic camera shots are replaced by sweeping aerial views and wide-angle shots to make sure you don’t miss a shred of big-budget spectacle. Rome is clean, the gladiators don’t look nearly as grimy or as dirty as they used to, and in short, the world feels too polished and refined.

I understand that neither “Gladiator” film was meant to be a beacon of historical accuracy. However, the removal of grit and realism in the presentation of danger, evil, poverty and cruelty in films that supposedly want us to feel the weight of darkness isn’t a matter of historical accuracy, it’s a matter of crafting a simulated reality so perfectly polished that anyone can stomach it. For some films, this is suitable. For others, it’s wildly concerning.

In the rush to rely on large-scale, commercially safe franchises and sequels in the creation of the modern blockbuster, film studios have prioritized blockbusters that are “digestible.” In short, spending $200 million on a film that might drive some of its core audience away is far too dangerous of a risk. Indie films or films with smaller budgets – specifically in the horror genre – still retain this aspect of creative control because the risk is so much smaller. But a big-budget blockbuster like “Captain America: Brave New World” can’t take the same risks in crafting a dark, gritty political thriller today like “The Winter Soldier” could in 2014 because the current Marvel fanbase is so uncertain if they want to support the new films or not. In the eyes of executives, it needs guaranteed success; it needs to be accessible, and so it needs to be safe.

But why does it matter if “Gladiator II” or “Brave New World” don’t feel as gritty? Why should we care if shows like “The Last of Us” make what’s supposed to be worn down, dirty clothes feel brand new or ensure that characters in dire situations never quite lose their perfectly-crafted, makeup-induced glow?

When stories meant to reflect reality lose their sting, the way we view these issues in the real world starts to change too. When violence is shown as evil, but it’s always PG-ified, then do we truly understand the magnitude of violence? When we view stories with characters from rough backgrounds or who encounter hardships, but we ensure they never get “too hard” to preserve their attractiveness, relatability or spectacle, then are we doing more damage than if we never told the stories in the first place? As Christians who consume media or create media, we must ask ourselves this question.

Flannery O’Connor, a famous author of the 1950’s and 60’s and devout Catholic, argued an emphatic yes to this question. O’Connor sought to write stories that both weaved her faith into her words while recognizing the broken, sinful and often revolting reality of the world she lived in. To O’Connor, there was a fine line between exploiting and depicting evil, but as Christians and lovers of stories, we had a duty to find where that line is and stand on it firmly. 

“The novelist is required to open his eyes on the world around him and look,” wrote O’Connor in her prose piece, “Mystery and Manners.” “If what he sees is not highly edifying, he is still required to look. Then he is required to reproduce, with words, what he sees.” 

O’Connor later asserts that while some Christians claim that since we believe that God’s goodness triumphs over evil, we must find the good in all things and depict it in all things, even if it means “tidying up reality” to make the evil of the world less offensive. But on the contrary, as Christians, we face the reality that when we create stories about the battle between right and wrong, yet diminish the evils and the bleak reality of the world, we simultaneously diminish the power and light of the God who overcomes it.

In short, the Christian who consumes or creates stories should care if Hollywood is beginning to lose its grit because that very grit reflects the reality of our present world. When darkness doesn’t look as dark, evil isn’t as repulsive and the hero wins too easily, then we lose the potential for stories to appeal to both our eternal reality of good persevering over evil and our present reality of the grit and brokenness within our world. Do we as Christians prefer to twist the reality of our broken world into an idealized, near-perfect simulacrum? If so, then the presentation of this “Christian appropriate life” becomes instead the presentation of a “Christian accepted lie,” and we should tear up our words and destroy our films rather than continue diminishing the reality of our present struggles and consequently the power of the God who triumphs over it.

Ben Konuch is a senior Strategic Communication student who serves as a writer for Cedars A&E and as their social media lead. He enjoys getting sucked into good stories, playing video games and swing dancing in the rain.