The Adaptation Epidemic

Whenever I crave a distraction from my academic workload, or simply need something to do during the weekend, I turn to the movie theater. With its large screen, comfortable seats, and overpriced sugary concessions, the movies have long been a relatively cheap way to escape the never-ending problems and responsibilities of the world for a few hours. Lately though, this escape rarely pans out for me. When I go to buy tickets, I never find anything remotely interesting to watch. A majority of the time, the only films playing are part of preexisting intellectual property or rehashes of ideas that have already been done. The annual Disney live-action remake has become so predictable that it might as well become a drinking game (which would certainly give you an escape if you consider alcohol poisoning to be one).

While Disney is the worst offender by far, it is certainly not the only studio responsible for fueling the remake trend. Over the past several years, rehashes and reboots have come to dominate the box office across nearly every genre. Classic animated franchises like Despicable Me and Toy Story have been stretched into multiple installments, sometimes reaching four or even five films. 

Animation has been converted into live-action with movies like How to Train Your Dragon (2025) and the seemingly endless stream of Disney remakes. Chick flicks of the 2000s are being revived with sequels featuring their original casts, as seen with Freakier Friday (2025) and The Devil Wears Prada 2 (2026). These classics have even been rebooted, to controversial results; properties such as Gossip Girl (2007-2012), Legally Blonde (2001), and Heathers (1988) have all been remade with entirely new casts for modern audiences, despite those audiences often preferring the original material. This doesn’t even mention the spread of remakes to Broadway. Recent examples include movie-to-musical adaptations like Mean Girls (2004) and Beetlejuice (2019), book-to-musical adaptations like The Great Gatsby (2024), and musical-to-movie adaptations like Dear Evan Hansen (2021) and Cats (2019) — the latter of which I prefer to erase from my memory.

This not-so-short laundry list of remakes has probably already exhausted you — and you’re not alone. Over the years, public reception towards these remakes has grown increasingly negative. However, this wasn’t always the case. The idea of adapting existing IP isn’t new, and theaters have long featured remakes and adaptations for audiences to enjoy.

To use Disney as an example, the first wave of live-action remakes — such as Alice In Wonderland (2010) and Cinderella (2015) — performed incredibly well at the box office. At the time, the concept of live-action remakes was still relatively new. Their success sent a clear message that audiences wanted more of these films, and, initially, that message was accurate. Millennials now had a reason to pay for a nostalgic experience built around the Disney movies they had grown up with, only now they were modernized. 

Some franchises were also built from the start to sustain many installments and large amounts of content. Series such as Star Wars and Harry Potter thrived for years by expanding their stories through sequels and spin-offs. Because of successes like these, it’s important to remember that franchise expansions were not always viewed negatively; in their early stages, many were received quite positively by both critics and audiences.

So, why have our opinions about these remakes changed? If audiences loved the original material, why are these new versions so loudly disliked? There are two primary reasons for this: the quality in which many of these remakes are executed and the broader impact of these remakes on the box office landscape.

First, we must acknowledge the inherent lower quality of most remakes being released today. Remakes from large studios are typically greenlit with the intention of generating immense profit through pure nostalgia bait, which means that they don’t have to work nearly as hard to generate the same amount of revenue. The allure of creating an adaptation is the ability to add something new to the existing source material — after all, if the new film is simply a replica of the original, why shell out $15 for a ticket? However, because these remakes are produced from a monetary angle, they rarely take advantage of the opportunity to improve an existing story that has already proven to be successful at the box office.

Disney’s live-action remakes are arguably the biggest offenders of this “low risk, high reward” mentality. Many are nearly shot-for-shot reproductions of the original films, leaving little reason to watch them over the animated versions (especially when audiences likely already have access to those classics through streaming). Characters are frequently “reimagined,” yet there is often little consideration for how their original animated designs translate to live action. As a result, figures created for fantasy worlds end up looking strangely unsettling in realistic settings. When whimsical characters like Sebastian in The Little Mermaid (2023) or King Louie in The Jungle Book (2016) look like they belong in a zoo instead of a storybook, it is easy for audiences to lose the personal connection they once had with them.

Additionally, the music in these remakes adds nothing valuable to the narrative. Classic Disney films follow a traditional musical structure in which dialogue, song, and choreography flow naturally into one another. In many of the live-action adaptations, however, that rhythm feels disrupted. Songs appear abruptly rather than emerging organically from the narrative, making for awkward beats in the storyline. New songs are frequently added to flesh out characters or expand their roles, but these additions can feel awkward within a story that functioned well without them. Disney seems to be attempting to reinvent its classic stories, but these musical changes serve no clear purpose. As a result, most remakes have the worst of both worlds, as they neither faithfully represent the original material nor introduce anything new and meaningful.

Not only are many remakes unimaginative and uninspired, but the worst offenders end up undermining the very aim of the original source material. The recent Mean Girls (2024) remake is an unfortunate example of studios missing the mark when it comes to their storytelling. In the original 2004 film, the costuming of the Plastics was deliberate. Their outfits were coordinated reflecting their conformity to the “queen bee” of the group, Regina George. They were also aspirational, featuring luxury and name-brand pieces that set them apart visually from their peers. In other words, the Plastics were portrayed as trend setters, not trend followers. Compare this to the 2024 remake of the same name, and it feels as though the new creative directors dressed the main trio blindfolded. The outfits appear cheap and overtly “trendy,” the kind of fast-fashion looks likely to fall out of style within a few months. This makes sense, as many of the pieces resemble popular dupes from the fast-fashion retailer Shein. The film even partnered with Walmart for a promotional collaboration. This marketing strategy was obviously done to boost profits, but it directly contradicts the Plastics’ original aura of exclusivity and unattainable wealth. As a result, the visual cues of the remake diverge so much from its source material that it feels almost unrecognizable, and it does a great disservice to the plot of the original movie.

As much as recent adaptations generally miss their mark, it is important to note the few recent exceptions that have improved upon their original source material. A good example of this is Sony Animation’s Spider-Verse franchise which has successfully reimagined the character of Spider-Man to fit a modern audience. Rather than simply rehashing the Peter Parker storyline, Sony focused on Miles Morales to bring a different perspective to the story. This approach allowed the franchise to broaden representation while still respecting the established canon. It’s also impossible to ignore the groundbreaking animation style of these films. Sony was willing to take creative risks and invest significant time and money into the project, and it paid off. Despite these films being expensive to produce and requiring significant downtime between installments, fans still line up eagerly for each new release. The success of the Spider-Verse franchise ultimately boils down to Sony’s willingness to invest resources into innovation instead of churning out yet another derivative remake.

Greta Gerwig’s 2019 film Little Women is a subtler example of adapting through reinvention. Gerwig’s adaptation uses the same source material as many previous versions, but presents it in a reimagined way through a non-linear narrative. By using a past-and-present story structure, the film is able to create direct and intentional foreshadowing of the events in the narrative. Gerwig also distinguishes her adaptation from its predecessors by introducing a significantly more explicit feminist perspective, notably through Amy March’s monologue. Improvised on set by Florence Pugh, the character uses the film’s platform to call out the limited ways women can earn money and secure independence in society. While the film may not be as stylistically revolutionary as Spider-Verse, it demonstrates that an adaptation can still bring new meaning to an existing property through reinterpretion of a work’s themes and storytelling approach.

Aside from the often lackluster quality of many recent adaptations, their prevalence has also dulled audiences’ appetite for them. The main reason remakes continue to be churned out year after year is that they are considered a safe and profitable investment. Studios know that familiar franchises are far more likely to generate reliable revenue than original ideas, which are a gamble considering they may or may not resonate with audiences. Moreover, using existing IP also cuts down on certain development costs. Executives can avoid paying for entirely new concepts, storyboards, and extensive early-stage experimentation, and they minimize the risk of having to scrap a project that fails to come together. Companies like Disney are therefore able to rely on recognizable properties while framing the strategy as a way of keeping the Disney “magic” alive.

Part of this problem stems from the fact that original ideas are generally struggling to succeed at the box office. Because live-action adaptations and remakes follow a nearly guaranteed formula of profitability, original projects now face immense pressure from corporate studios to perform extremely well. The result has been a decline in creative experimentation. Stories are now crafted to appeal to the broadest audience possible, rather than reflecting the visions of animators and storytellers.

This “play it safe” mentality has also led to a rise in corporate censorship, impacting releases such as Pixar’s Elio (2025). The film’s protagonist was initially queer-coded, reflecting the personal experiences of the film’s original director, Adrian Molina. However, concerns about the character’s portrayal reportedly caused a production shake-up that replaced Molina with directors Domee Shi and Madeline Sharafian. As a result, Elio became more distanced from the perspective of the person who originally created the story, weakening the film’s personal and artistic foundation. In many ways, Disney wants to have its cake and eat it too. It wishes to benefit from the public image of holding progressive values, yet it is also careful not to alienate more conservative audiences if doing so would threaten profits.

In this conversation about remakes, it is also important to recognize the role audiences play in shaping what gets released. Going to the movies is expensive, with the average ticket in Williamsburg being around $13-$16 without accounting for concessions. Combined with the abundance of streaming services that offer on-demand movies and TV shows, it is no wonder that people are far more selective about what they choose to see in theaters. If a new idea doesn’t seem worth the price of admission — which is now often the cost of a full meal — many people simply skip it. Naturally, this discourages companies like Disney from investing in more original films since their potential benefits rarely outweigh their costs. At the same time, audiences are naturally drawn to the nostalgia and comfort of revisiting stories they already know they enjoy. Disney remakes offer many people the chance to switch off their daily lives for a few hours and reconnect with their childhood (even if that childhood didn’t originally include Will Smith as the Genie in Aladdin).

Despite this, people are still hungry for new ideas and are quick to latch onto “good” releases. Arguably the biggest example as of late is Netflix’s animated film K-Pop Demon Hunters. The movie introduces an entirely original concept, blending modern K-pop fandom culture with traditional Korean myths and folklore. Similarly to Spider-Verse, K-Pop Demon Hunters pairs innovative animation with contemporary cultural elements, making it both visually distinctive and relatable to a wide audience. The film also benefited from debuting on the streaming platform Netflix rather than through a traditional theatrical release. Because it was included with a Netflix subscription, viewers didn’t face the usual hurdle of deciding whether the film was worth the price of a movie ticket. This accessibility helped the movie significantly; not only did it perform well in terms of views, profits, and awards, but it also developed an intense online following. It was an internet phenomenon in a summer that otherwise lacked a common cultural moment.

After talking about the business decisions of large studios like Disney, it may feel like your options at the box office are set in stone. In reality, you have more influence than you might think. One way you can shape what you see in theaters is by simply choosing where to spend your money. If remakes dominate theaters because they are profitable, then refusing to pay for them sends a clear signal to studios to stop producing the same product. You can also actively support originality by buying tickets for stories that do take creative risks. Independent films in particular rely heavily on audience support, so choosing to see them helps ensure that new and original stories continue to make it to the screen.

And if you’re still feeling particularly nostalgic and want to see the latest remake, there’s always another option: just wait a few weeks until it inevitably arrives on streaming.