At what point does a movie become too sentimental and is that necessarily a bad thing?
Getting audiences to be emotionally invested in a narrative and its characters, to the point of inducing tears, is one of the easiest ways to create a box-office sensation, and Hollywood loves sentimentality.
In an industry where profit is the predominant name of the game, it’s hardly surprising that studios are after movies that will rake in sales, especially those which offer sentimental tales of growth, loss, perseverance, and tragedy via epic means.
Studios also want to avoid isolating audiences, which means attempting to tap into universal human emotions that force us to reckon with big, unavoidable truths; as hard as these kinds of films can be to bear, there’s something about them that seems to draw us in.
After all, most people are going to be emotionally affected by a film if it features the death of a beloved character—especially if they’re a pet or a child—unless you’re made of steel. Sentimental films allow us to process some of the most devastating aspects of life, like the death of a loved one, through much more digestible means, as though we’re practising for the real thing.
However, the issue is that certain films simply go about this the wrong way, manipulating audiences into an emotional reaction that feels distinctly contrived. This is often the case with big Oscar-winning movies, or at least the ones that are pure Oscar bait, with overly indulgent narratives only serving to trick us into believing that they are worthwhile. If a movie relies too much on trying to make us cry or depicting incredibly life-affirming moments, there’s probably not much substance to it, and is just as unlikely to be well-written.
It’s ironic, really, because the goal of pandering to some universal emotions usually comes off as pretty insincere. Look at movies like Marley & Me, I Am Legend, Forrest Gump, and Patch Adams, for example. They toy with our emotions in a manipulative way, clearly designed with profit in mind, presenting an over-indulgent and unrealistic standard of the human experience that actually says very little.
You only have to look at the excessive use of nostalgic flashbacks and the infantilisation of the intellectually disabled titular character in Forrest Gump to see how Hollywood’s obsession with sentimentality can work in its favour. The film presents Hanks’ character in an ableist way, yet the movie’s one-dimensional celebration of life (while erasing much of America’s problematic history) perfectly buys into the easily digestible format of mawkish Oscar-bait.
And it often works. Forrest Gump won ‘Best Picture’ at the Oscars, while many other sentimental movies, like pretty much any Steven Spielberg vehicle (particularly ET the Extra-Terrestrial and The Terminal), have become hugely successful because of their epic narratives about the human experience and the celebration of goodness in the world. Yet, the innate Hollywood-ness of these often makes them feel hollow and vapid, a mere cash grab disguised as complex works of art.
However, is sentimentality always a bad thing?
There can be times when movies that veer towards being ‘too sentimental’ just manage to pull it off, like Little Miss Sunshine. The tragicomedy is a life-affirming film that features death and plenty of crushing realisations, like when Paul Dano’s Dwayne realises he can’t fly planes if he’s colourblind, but there’s enough dark humour that it manages to strike the perfect balance between eliciting emotion and not being too over-the-top.
Titanic is another one that might divide audiences more, however. It’s an innately sentimental film—who doesn’t feel moved by Jack’s death and the characters’ imaginary reunion, or the necklace dropping into the sea?—but most of us would be lying if we didn’t admit to getting sucked into its emotional web whenever it comes on at Christmas. I don’t fall into sentimental movie traps easily, but Titanic gets me every time.
Perhaps when a movie becomes so intertwined with our lives, such as the fact that Titanic is always played on television during the holiday period, which is an innately nostalgic time, that aids its endurance despite its considerable levels of simplistic sentimentality and pandering to the lowest common denominator.
Hollywood’s obsession with sentimentality is a complicated thing. We need less of it, and instead, the exploration of more nuanced storylines that don’t simply try to place their bets on emotional manipulation. Yet, you can hardly blame us for falling for these same movies every once in a while. At least the director has executed their aim successfully.
