"The apocalyptic first weeks of 2026 have kicked off an usual Instagram trend, even by modern social media standards: yearning for 2016. Nostalgia is a hell of a drug, because for anyone with a working brain who survived that year, it felt like the end of days. Or have we forgotten? 2016 was when Brexit loomed, Prince and Bowie died, Pulse was the most violent shooting in America (until it wasn't), and Trump was a long shot candidate (until he wasn't)."
"But while scouring for slideshow pics from my iCloud this weekend, I was struck by a revelation. Seeing photos of premieres and activations to movies I haven't thought about in literally ten years, I remembered how much 2016 was a weird year especially for movies. This isn't a clean-cut matter like a big film starting a franchise we all hate, or some controversial Oscar winner."
"Because there's a lot of great 2016 movies, truly: Moonlight, Arrival, Fences, Colossal, The Handmaiden, Silence,13th, The Witch, Green Room, The Nice Guys, Hell or High Water, La La Land, Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping. ("Equal Rights (Not Gay)" still splits my sides.) Hell, I still rewatch Captain America: Civil War when the mood strikes. It's 2016 movies holistically that's the problem."
Early 2026 nostalgia for 2016 exposes how turbulent that year actually felt, with Brexit, celebrity deaths, mass shootings, and an unexpected political shift. Many acclaimed films emerged alongside commercially-driven blockbusters, creating a paradox of high-quality art and an industry-wide move toward bigger budgets, grander scale, extended runtimes, aggressive pre-release, and fan-focused marketing. That intensification amplified backlash and reshaped audience expectations. The year balanced genuinely excellent films with a holistic shift in studio practices that prioritized spectacle and franchise potential, producing both energy and exhaustion across cinema and popular culture.
Read at www.esquire.com
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