Original Films vs. Franchise Fatigue: Can Hollywood Still Take Risks?

The summer movie season is here, and — as expected — it's flooded with superhero blockbusters, reboots, prequels, sequels, live-action remakes, and, of course, spin-offs nobody really asked for. From Marvel and Jurassic Park to Avatar and Mission Impossible, major Hollywood studios are banking on their multi-billion-dollar franchises to keep 2025's box office booming. Even questionable sequels like Now You See Me 3, M3GAN 2.0, and Final Destination 6 are getting the big-studio push, milking familiar brands for every last dollar.

Yet behind the glossy trailers and billion-dollar hype, many filmmakers — including those who once launched these same franchises — are finding it harder than ever to get their original or passion projects made. Increasingly, major studios reject fresh ideas from even A-list directors, forcing them to take their most daring scripts to streaming platforms instead.

Oscar-winning director Guillermo del Toro will finally bring his passion project — an adaptation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein — to life, no pun intended, after years of setbacks at Universal Pictures. Del Toro began developing Frankenstein in 2008, but the project was sidelined in 2014 when Universal shifted focus to its so-called "Dark Universe" franchise, which fizzled out before it could properly launch (Collider, IndieWire). Following the Oscar-winning success of his Pinocchio for Netflix, the streaming giant quickly gave del Toro the green light — and total creative control — to finally realize his vision for Frankenstein.

Del Toro is not the first A-list director to have a passion project rejected by major studios in favor of safer, franchise-friendly IP. Martin Scorsese — one of the most respected and prolific filmmakers of our time — faced similar roadblocks. Both 2019's The Irishman and 2023's Killers of the Flower Moon were deemed too expensive and too "non-franchise" by traditional studios (Screen Daily, GQ). Those limitations pushed Scorsese and his team to partner with Netflix and Apple TV+, which offered the green light and full creative freedom. Even with stars like Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, and Al Pacino — actors who once guaranteed ticket sales on name alone — the studios wouldn't take the financial risk without a built-in IP attached.

So, what exactly is an IP project? "IP" stands for Intellectual Property — meaning a story, character, brand, or concept that already exists and is owned by a studio, creator, or company. Think Marvel, DC, Star Wars, Harry Potter, or The Fast and the Furious. Major studios will almost always favor IP for several — arguably understandable — reasons. For one, an IP project is already familiar to audiences. Viewers know the characters, the basic plot, and the backstory, which makes the writers' job easier. On top of that, an IP carries a lower risk of failing compared to an original script. Even if the final product isn't great, studios know that the first few weeks of box office returns often decide whether a franchise survives. Most importantly, with an established brand, studios can squeeze out extra profit through merchandise, sequels, and spin-offs — all without having to sell a brand-new idea from scratch.

Even filmmakers who helped launch major IPs have seen their recent projects derailed by studio interference. David Ayer, who wrote the first Fast and the Furious film in 2001, has seen none of the franchise's over $7 billion in profits. His 2016 Suicide Squad became another casualty of studio meddling. In a 2021 interview with Entertainment Weekly, Ayer expressed his disappointment: "It's frustrating because I made a really heartfelt drama and it got ripped to pieces. They tried to turn it into Deadpool, which it just wasn't supposed to be. And then you take the hit — you're the captain of the ship, your name is on it. Even though it didn't represent what I actually made, I took all the bullets and was a good soldier. I made an amazing movie. It's an amazing movie, it just scared the s--- out of the executives." (Entertainment Weekly)

Another challenge for original material is that the few projects making it to theaters lately have often been disappointing. Steven Soderbergh's recent films — 2024's Presence and this year's Black Bag — severely underperformed, leaving audiences wondering, "That was made by the same person who did Traffic, Erin Brockovich, and Ocean's Eleven?" Similarly, big-budget originals from celebrated directors like Bong Joon Ho (Mickey 17), Francis Ford Coppola (Megalopolis), and Matthew Vaughn (Argylle) all carried budgets near or over $100 million, yet failed to impress critics or audiences. Combined, these three films grossed less than $100 million worldwide — a sobering reminder that even marquee names can't guarantee a hit without the safety net of an established franchise (IndieWire, Variety).

Yet this unspoken rule seems to apply mainly to theatrical releases. Streaming services now offer a wider range of original material — stories often deemed too risky or too long for traditional studios. In 2024, the streaming platform Tubi found that 74% of Millennials and Gen Z viewers prefer original content over franchises and remakes (Business Insider). Even moviegoers say they crave originality on the big screen. But ticket sales tell a different story. Since 2020, IP-based films have grossed more than $60 billion worldwide (The Numbers, Variety), pushing major studios to double down on the financial incentive to prioritize familiar franchises over fresh ideas.

In the end, the choice lies with us — the audience. Studios will keep playing it safe with familiar franchises as long as we keep showing up for them and ignoring the bold, original stories when they do appear. But as Barbie, Oppenheimer, and surprise hits like Sinners have shown, studios pay attention when we buy tickets for something new. If we want more originality and fewer carbon-copy sequels, we have to vote with our wallets: skip the predictable IP, support fresh ideas, and spread the word when a good original film hits theaters. Take a chance on the movie you've never heard of — you might help Hollywood rediscover its courage. That's how we stop the flood of endless IP and keep cinema alive as an art form, not just a product line.