Now that we’ve made it to the sequel-dominated part of the summer movie season, Staff Writer Matt Schimkowitz would like us all to admit: What’s a franchise that you just can’t quit?
This isn’t a question for staffers alone. Everybody, into the pool and share your shame in the comments. If you’ve got a prompt you’d like us and other readers to answer, send us an email at [email protected].
The Walking Dead
If you want to roll your eyes at my answer, I get it. After falling in love with The Walking Dead’s riveting pilot and strong first few seasons, I knew the quality was declining and there was little incentive to keep going once the main cast started leaving. But you’re talking to the woman who still tunes into Grey’s Anatomy every week. Andrew Lincoln’s departure could’ve been my last straw, but it didn’t take my curiosity long to go back and finish TWD during its final season. I have stuck around for its ongoing spin-offs because a part of me keeps hoping they will capture TWD‘s emotionally grueling narrative, or it reminds me of the time in my life when I started watching the show, or I just want to see that Daryl and Rick reunion. These offshoots are just about main characters whose journeys I’m invested in anyway, whether it’s Daryl and Carol traipsing around apocalyptic Europe or Maggie and Negan, of all people, coming together to run New York City. I’ve written enough about how The Walking Dead franchise needs to die for various reasons, but most of all, AMC needs to end it to free me of my misery because clearly, I can’t be trusted to do that. [Saloni Gajjar]
Star Wars
I’ll kick mine off by saying I am not a completist, and I’ve really only tapped into a small handful of the Star Wars TV offerings that have cropped up on Disney+ over the last few years. This is largely because The Rise Of Skywalker made me so mad that I didn’t want to engage with the franchise, especially the Disney part of the franchise, for a while. But I still can’t let go of the franchise completely, and while I haven’t rushed out to see The Mandalorian And Grogu, I know I will eventually, just as I know I’ll eventually see that Ryan Gosling Starfighter movie, too. And, for what it’s worth, I still can’t help but follow the discourse surrounding every new Star Wars property, mind-numbing (and gross) as it often is. This answer feels like a bit of a cop-out, but the fact of the matter is that other franchises I grew up with, like Harry Potter, I’ve been completely willing to abandon when they become creatively and morally bankrupt; the fact that I’m still, sometimes passively, keeping up with Star Wars indicates just how deep I’m in. [Drew Gillis]
Sex And The City
Let me preface this by saying that I am a completist, and so I rarely ever pull up stakes once I start a franchise. (It’s what I’ve decided to do with my one wild and precious life, which includes being an assigning editor, where this often comes in handy.) I do not believe for a second that Michael Patrick King, who co-created Sex And The City with Darren Star and is now the franchise’s primary steward, is ever going to right that ship. (The Comeback‘s strong finish is more a testament to Lisa Kudrow’s prowess than anything.) But I’ve watched all of the follow-up chapters in Carrie Bradshaw’s story with a mix of horror and awe, including that toilet flush of a conclusion last year, in part because of how well they demonstrate what happens when you love a character a little too much. So if, in another couple of years, MPK and SJP decide to reteam to imagine a future in which Carrie’s won a Pulitzer for her autofiction, I will be watching the two-minute episodes that are zapped into my brain by the latest streaming app. [Danette Chavez]
Toy Story
Though I am loath to admit it in a public forum, I agree with Quentin Tarantino: Toy Story 3 was the perfect conclusion to Pixar’s sentient-action-figure series. Sometimes the most obvious route is the best one. Nevertheless, every time Pixar pulls Woody and Buzz from the toybox, I feel a physical compulsion to contribute towards the studio’s next billion. It’s not even something I question. I’ve been seeing these movies since I was nine and remain helplessly in Jessie’s little plastic palm. That’s not to say I resent Toy Story 4 and 5. I think they’re good movies, especially Toy Story 4, which turned “why does this movie exist?” into the film’s thesis. But diminishing returns have set in, particularly in this latest outing, which is paced like a bank robbery, as if Pixar wants to get in and out before anyone thinks too hard about the movie. They can’t keep getting away with this. At some point these movies must fall off a cliff. I’m aware of the risks. These movies could become Marvel and Star Wars, and nearly did (See: Lightyear—actually, don’t see Lightyear). Still, Toy Story remains just good enough to keep me coming back to the playroom. [Matt Schimkowitz]
Spider-Man
I found Tom Holland’s Peter Parker charming for about 15 minutes back in 2016, and then basically never again ever since, as his “Aw, shucks” quest to find a new Super-Dad in every single movie he popped up in began to increasingly grate. (My wife has never forgiven me for audibly cracking up at Holland’s baby-talk “Mister Stark, I don’t feel so good,” in the midst of an otherwise pindrop-silent opening night showing of Avengers: Infinity War.) And yet, I’ve seen every movie Holland’s Spidey has ever appeared in because, damn it, I love Spider-Man: The powers, the themes, the villains, all of it besides the guy currently working under the mask. I’ll be back again for this month’s Brand New Day, dopily optimistic, because Spidey is bigger than one actor, or one grudge: I can’t leave my friendly neighborhood webhead hanging, y’know? [William Hughes]
Ace Attorney
Clearly I’m the standout here as someone who can easily give up on film and TV franchises as soon as they wear me out, but I’m not immune to the siren song of something that probably isn’t that good yet still offers me the warm embrace of familiarity. For me, that’s the Ace Attorney series of video games. Whether you’re playing as Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, or Ryunosuke Naruhodo, the formula is the same: A crime, usually a murder and often of the locked-room variety, is committed; the hero and his collection of good-hearted screw-ups must investigate it; and, once evidence has been gathered, the team must defend the accused in court. It’s as repetitive as any stack of cheap mystery paperbacks and the sense of humor is broadly silly, but I’m ride or die for each entry of this anime-flavored Law & Order. In fact, it’s probably because of the consistency that I find it so hard to quit: I know exactly what I’ll get, when I’ll smile at someone’s stupid name, and when I’ll feel clever for figuring out a contradiction. [Jacob Oller]
John Wick
John Wick got my attention from the very first movie, where a sad Keanu Reeves fights his way through countless henchmen to avenge his character’s wrongly killed puppy. How could you not root for him? Well, as the John Wick series has matured, it’s taken some creative turns, building out the underworld with a secret assassin society with its own lore, honor codes, tattooed receptionists in retro hairdos, and a string of luxury hotels with the only concierge service you’d ever imagine spotting Ian McShane. Several sequels in, it’s become like a new Mission Impossible series: how on earth are they going to top themselves this time? For John Wick, that’s a challenge to find bigger and better exquisite locales, production design, and intricate bullet-filled fight choreography. They almost lost me with From The World Of John Wick: Ballerina because the writing didn’t serve the set pieces well enough, but I’m ready for the next round. [Monica Castillo]
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