“rough” first draft #2 — when praising great art belittles great genres.
on the eve of the 2026 oscars, my mind is on genre. my mind is on SINNERS (2025) and heated rivalry (2025). i lived in the theater in 2025, voraciously inhaling stories and visual feasts that reminded me why i love film and visual media in general. we’re slowly getting richer and more representative stories on the big and small screen, stories worthy of conversation longer than 25 minutes. and SINNERS and heated rivalry are undoubtedly lengthy conversation starters. they’ve made an immediate impression on audiences and our broader society – two pieces of art that have been already poured over for months and months, and are also somehow only just starting to make their ascent from the zeitgeist to the annals of history. a revelation of sorts.
and not solely the response, the art itself.
the performances, the filmmaking, the music, the meaning.
writer-director jacob tierney (heated rivalry) leverages rachel reid’s source material to craft a winding nearly decade-long love story between hockey rivals shane hollander and ilya rozanov, offering up a critique on self-acceptance, masculinity, and patriarchy in the world of professional sports and beyond. writer-director ryan coogler (SINNERS) weaves a story of twin brothers elijah “smoke” moore and elias “stack” moore returning to their hometown community in the mississippi delta during jim crow in search of freedom and a better life and being confronted with both reality, death, and vampires, a commentary on cultural appropriation and exploitation and the history of blues music.
SINNERS and heated rivalry each feel like something completely new, demanding we think about ourselves and the world in radically different ways. however, along with this novelty and fresh approach, both pieces rely heavily on a primary genre – horror for SINNERS and romance for heated rivalry – in order to tell their stories. and more notably, a genre typically looked down upon in prestige television and film, by critics and more “refined” audiences.
we know romance isn’t taken seriously because of misogyny and women’s role as its primary writers, readers, and viewers. horror too is regarded as lesser than, associated with gruesome spectacles meant to elicit shock and terror at the expense of meaningful character development, plot, and story. while SINNERS and heated rivalry both serve as shining examples of these genres, it’s hard to ignore the way the conversations on both pieces of art seek to separate them from horror and romance respectively. whether subconsciously or very intentionally, “it’s not just scary” and “it’s not just smutty” are now fairly common and expected ways to encourage people to experience both pieces of art. (as though fear and desire aren’t themselves worthy of discussion.) elevating them as something MORE than their genre.
are these works different and stronger than works we’ve seen in a great deal of time? yes. are they an example of how more thoughtful creatives can be in their use of resources and collaboration? also yes. but more than their core genre? it gives me pause. i would argue these stories are more than what their genres have given us thus far, but not more than what romance and horror are capable of in their highest forms. these pieces of art are transcendent in and of themselves, but how can we already transcend genres we haven’t been given room to fully explore? there’s value in being excellent IN your genre. as an example OF your genre.
tierney and coogler lean on romance and horror to both construct and tell their stories, and given how profound the response has been, we can’t yet move the conversation beyond the genres. romance and horror establish the stakes. what does it mean to pursue desire when the stakes are high? what does it cost you to be with the person you want to be with? what choices do you make when the stakes are death? what pain are you willing to experience when the end is near? romance and horror press on our most tender and shameful spots. and for me, the strongest stories wrestle with that shame. they make us uncomfortable in ways we can’t help but discuss now and other ways we’ll silently navigate for all our lives. it’s no surprise we can’t stop talking about them. we’ll likely never stop, and i have to think that’s because of the genres they’re in, not because they’re better than them.
frustratingly, it’s that same shame that leads us to separate the storytelling from the blood and screams, and the capital R romance from the sex and the kissing when we speak about romance and horror – to prop up the more “legitimate” components, when our gut knows it is those baser components, those quintessential primal HUMAN feelings that keep us coming back. we’re so used to these genres being disrespected that we disrespect them ourselves in an effort to get them the respect they deserve.
horror is strong enough to hold societal critique humor, love, music, stakes – it is reckoning with the fragility of humanity, freedom, the cost of human life, survival instincts, determining priorities. romance is strong enough to hold societal critique, humor, pain, music, stakes – it is wrestling with yearning, tension, choice, vulnerability, surrender, text and subtext. the emotionally resonant response to SINNERS and heated rivalry from a consistently expanding audience shows us what these genres are capable of when taken seriously. my hope is more appreciation for how expansive, moving, and technically rigorous genre filmmaking can be. not as more than the genre, but of the genre, because the genre is BIG.
