The Electric State: Looks good, but says nothing.
- Alex Iwanoff
- 5 days ago
- 4 min read
I was recently asked about the last movie I truly—I mean really—enjoyed. The kind you'd enthusiastically recommend to your friends or family. And... it took me longer than it should have. Which is sad. (It was The Rule of Jenny Penn, now on Shudder).
We’re living in a strange moment where mainstream movies—especially sci-fi and epic action-adventure blockbusters—have never looked better (most of the time). And yet, after (half) watching Netflix’s latest big-budget sci-fi, The Electric State, I got bored. Bored and mad. I used to love these kinds of movies. Used to long for them. But now? I don’t even care. And I'm not the only one saying it. "They've ruined the movies we loved", I hear people complaining. They are pretty, yes. But also, pretty dumb.
This isn’t an isolated issue. It’s symptomatic of a much bigger shift. A shift toward algorithmic “content”. Sure, films are visually stunning—but increasingly forgettable. And forgettable, honestly, is probably the worst thing a movie can be. Being good-looking is not enough anymore.
Spectacle used to bring awe, wonder and originality. Today it’s industrialized, copy-pasted, slapped onto everything. But at what cost? The spectacle has grown brighter. Louder. Emptier. And The Electric State might be the epitome of it all.
How did we get here? And more importantly, where do we go next?
WHY DO WE LIKE MOVIES?
In the book Writing a Great Movie, Jeff Kitchen talks about drama historically serving a kind of shamanistic function: it shows those watching how to transform themselves. We, as an audience, seek guidance in our lives. Before making big decisions, we watch what others have done around us in similar situations and, depending on the consequences of their actions, we adjust accordingly. Similarly, movies offer a safe, fictional space where we experiment with forbidden ideas, radical solutions and provocative scenarios.
“The key word in the entertainment industry is outrageousness”, Jeff Kitchen
Movies are meant to push boundaries, test limits, ask uncomfortable questions. But in an era dominated by hyper-political correctness, studios sanitize scripts, simplify motivations and flatten complexity to avoid offending anyone and reach the widest possible audience. The result? Good-looking forgettable movies.
At the same time, big-budget productions also scramble to keep up with fast-paced algorithms and our shrinking attention spans — churning out films like they’re reels, optimized for metrics, not meaning. In the process, they’ve forgotten what makes films matter: the story. And the thing is: good stories take time. Time to write, to rethink, to feel dangerous before they feel finished.
ALGORITHMIC AESTHETICS
The Electric State is based on a strikingly haunting visual universe created by Simon Stålenhag—a Swedish artist known for blending decaying sci-fi tech into everyday life. His work carries a sense of doom — of loneliness and isolation — but also wonder and beauty. Kind of like Blade Runner 2049. Seriously, if you don't know his graphic novels, look him up! His universes are incredible.
So why, despite having such promising source material and a whooping $320 million budget, does The Electric State leave viewers completely indifferent? Well, it’s probably because every creative decision feels engineered by data, like casting decisions based on Instagram follower counts, frictionless emotional beats, empty dialogue. This film feels manufactured for the “second-screen watch” or “casual viewing” as described by Will Tavlin in N+1:
“Netflix’s movies don’t have to abide by any of the norms established over the history of cinema: they don’t have to be profitable, pretty, sexy, intelligent, funny, well-made, or anything else that pulls audiences into theater seats”.
It's not just Netflix. We're seeing the emergence of algorithmic cinema everywhere: stories reverse-engineered from platform metrics, past viewer habits, and AI-chosen scripts. Platforms like Largo.ai literally quantify screenplay potential—calculating which star should headline, which narrative paths have historically worked best, and assigning percentage probabilities of success. It saves time on decision-making, certainly. But, somewhere along the line, it kills innovation. Creativity.
Risky ideas vanish, radical concepts get shelved, and we’re left with endless reruns of safe dystopias (or utopias) and market-tested type-cast heroes. Look, movies are undeniably products, and they must sell. But Hollywood’s current formula isn’t working. Audiences are growing bored. It's stagnating and... it might not even be (totally) their fault.
“In doing so, [Netflix] has brought Hollywood to the brink of irrelevance. Because Netflix doesn’t just survive when no one is watching — it thrives”, Will Tavlin
THE SILVER LINING
It's easy to criticize The Electric State as a failure because it missed Stålenhag’s original genre—but that’s not really the heart of the problem. The real issue is that it doesn't hit any tone or theme at all. It leaves you feeling nothing. We don't care about the characters, we don't feel their journey.
But here’s the good news: audiences are getting tired of recycled franchises, reboots and nostalgia gimmicks. They’re becoming vocal about their fatigue, craving authenticity and fresh stories again.
This moment feels somewhat similar to Hollywood’s change of direction in the 90s, from tired franchises that flopped hard (rings any bells?) to indie filmmakers with a distinct voice.
“A series of big-budget flops led studios to gamble on idiosyncratic, independent-minded directorial voices and less conventional fare with countercultural energy”, The Take.
Are we seeing the same thing today? Are indie mid-budget movies coming back? Hard to say, given the big differences in how media and content is consumed and produced nowadays vs the pre-social media era.
But, there’s hope. Just as studios in the ’90s took chances on indie films — think Miramax or IFC Studios(both still around today) — we’re now also seeing players such as A24 and Shudder gain passionate followings by offering bold, original alternatives. Even platforms like MUBI are finding traction with films like The Substance by staying focused on cinéma d’auteur.
So, here’s the deal: if you’re an indie filmmaker with a script abandoned somewhere in your computer: finish it. Now might be your perfect moment. Take the creative risks algorithms will never be able to do (at least not without our input). Because there’s one thing data-driven cinema can not replicate:
A story shaped by flaws, opinions and lived experiences, told with your own vision.