The Bar Is on the Floor: Tiktok and Other Underwhelming Entertainment

Viral half-ass produced songs, meaningless dance trends, degradation of genuine creativity - what is the one thing all of these have in common? It’s a shared origin to a long history of mediocre social media. Tiktok is just the current king of the hill. Before its reign, Insta reels held the title, and before that was Vine. While on the surface these underwhelming social media apps seem harmless, they represent a darker truth: the bar of entertainment has been dropped onto the floor.

Apart from the obvious affect of losing consecutive hours to pointless scrolling, this age has seen an absolute flooring in our standard for entertainment. Frivolousness is the name of the game, and you’d be hard pressed to find a Millennial or Gen Z’er who’s unable to spell it. Following the release of her album 30, Adele said in an interview that she refused to make music for Tiktok despite her team’s plea to appeal to teens. Her comment doesn’t represent a form of gatekeeping on what “real” music is, but an acknowledgment of the merit it should carry. She referenced how music should be inspired by life experiences and the marks those experiences leave. Sadly, this is not the same bar our generation reaches for. While Adele and similar artists place the bar higher and higher, apps like Tiktok has us bending down, leaving the bar at our feet. I’ve repeatedly failed to understand the appeal of seeing the same dance performed by a thousand strangers. I cannot think of a more uncreative way to begin a song by singing the first six letters of the alphabet, only to say “eff-you.” This isn’t a proclamation of my audacious individuality, but a sincere confession of confusion. I’m all for “you do you”, but is it really a buzzkill to have standards?

Speaking of, this dynasty of underwhelming entertainment has congealed all sense of artistic creativity. Monthly new dance trends are now the kindle that ignite a forest fire of generic repetitions. Chopped up viral ear-bites are pasted over vacation trips to tropical destination spots. Of course i’m aware not all creations of Tiktok and Insta reels fall prey to the flame. But a single 10-minute period reveals how so many creators trade their own talent for empty renditions. Where are the unique contributions? These apps tout followers in the millions, yet revel in a single groupthink. Apps like Tiktok gain following in the hundred of millions, but in doing so they successfully rage war on creativity itself. I want to see passions and hobbies that i’ve never thought of. I want to see creators boom to fame on a fresh talent. Instead we’re subjected to all manner of “seen it, heard it.”

The bar doesn’t rest solely at the feet of social media either. What was once a film industry that blessed screens with raw display of human emotion has now sunk to the depths of CGI entertainment. Why lose yourself in the masterpieces of David Fincher’s The Curious Case of Benjamin Button or Tom Hooper’s The Danish Girl when one can get a stimulus high off of CGI monstrosities like Avengers: Endgame? Forgive me for rubbing against the grain, but i’d rather be moved to tears off the sheer emotion of actors, not a “slain” hero’s death from a CGI weapon in front of a green screen. Sadly, in the realm of profitable special effects, the latter reigns supreme. Now, we are witnessing an era where CGI dominate films creep onto Oscar nomination lists for “Best Picture.” Did I misinterpret what the meaning of best picture was? Come on..

In our trivial pursuit of an illusion in place of reality, we have lost sight of our Shakespearean roots. These roots sprouted the tradition of connecting people in a shared lived experience. Movie theaters and film premieres began as audiences achingly standing in low terrace theaters, with nothing but human ingenuity above them. These were the stages that sprung the evolution of our modern film industry. Do not be swayed by the animated deaths of talking trees and infinity gauntlets. Find solace in Gone Girl’s Amy Dunne’s quest for liberation from a complacent and abusive marriage, in Titanic’s Rose Dawson’s search for breakage from the societal bonds that imprisoned her, and in Burn My Heart at Wounded Knee’s Sitting Bull’s struggle in preserving his culture from a imperialistic genocide. These films are the true offspring of the plays past generations stood gazing up upon. This is not to say animated or special effect heavy films have no place. Quite the opposite. It’s a plea for them to use today’s film industry to connect with audiences beyond a green screen and flash effects.

And so in keeping with tradition with signing off with a contemplative quote, I leave you with Stanley Kubrick’s quote “film is - or should be - more like music than fiction. It should be a progression of mood and feelings. The theme, what’s behind the emotion, the meaning, all that comes later.”