
Ryan Gosling in “Project Hail Mary.”
Whenever the box office has an important lesson to teach, you can usually trust Hollywood to skip class.
“Project Hail Mary,” the wry sci-fi adventure with Ryan Gosling, is turning into one of the biggest hits of the year. Released on March 9 in London before opening in The United States on March 20, it has already made more than $300 million worldwide. It is the first real theatrical success for Amazon, and The Hollywood Reporter says that “the stars seem to be aligning” for a sequel.
Meanwhile, Variety reports that over at Lionsgate, there are already plans for a follow-up to that studio’s “The Housemaid,” a modestly budgeted Sydney Sweeney thriller that turned into another box-office smash. Considering that there are four titles (so far) in novelist Freida McFadden’s mystery series, another movie franchise seems to be in the making.
To which discriminating movie lovers might rightly say … please, no.
It is true that both films helped fill often-empty movie theaters. But before their studios simply rush to turn out near replicas, I wish they would take a moment to look at just why these became hits.
What is crucial, I think, is that each film refreshingly revived a genre we hadn’t seen in a while. After years of dystopian sci-fi — stories that envisioned our world ruined by ecological disasters or ravaged by survivalist tribes — “Project Hail Mary” imagines smart people working together with other smart species for the universal good. It is actually optimistic — the kind of sunny speculative fiction that used to be Steven Spielberg’s stock-in-trade.

Sydney Sweeney in “The Housemaid.”
Meanwhile, the far darker “The Housemaid” breathed new life into the sort of movie we haven’t seen much of since the ‘90s — the erotic thriller. With steamy star Sweeney heating up the screen and McFadden’s story providing surprising twists, along with dollops of sadism and a dose of well-deserved revenge, the film kept one eye on cinema’s lurid past and another on our modern, #MeToo age.
In other words, both movies, while remaining aware of Hollywood history, gave us something new, or at least newish.
And that’s the real lesson here, if Hollywood could only see it.
Of course, pundits have tried to draw other lessons from these films’ successes. They have suggested they show the consistent appeal of movie stars (ignoring that Gosling’s “The Fall Guy” and Sweeney’s “Christy” were recent flops). They have declared it is because audiences are sick of political movies (although “Sinners,” which used vampirism as a metaphor for exploitation, was one of last year’s biggest hits). They insist it is because audiences simply want something “fun” (although if the squirm-inducing torture in “The Housemaid” made you smile, please, lose my email address).
No, I think the lesson is far simpler and more obvious: If you want to get people back into the theater, give them something that doesn’t feel like everything they’ve seen before.
The problem is, that runs contrary to a core belief of modern movie moguls: If an audience bought it before, we can sell it to them again. Just look — if you can stomach it — at the Top 10 box office hits of 2025. Only one project — “Sinners,” which ranked seventh — began with an original idea. The other titles were all based on video games, long-running comic books, or previous films. (Pre-tested “intellectual property,” as the lawyers call it, although only the last word in that phrase is really pertinent here.)
American moviemaking has become a business built on brand names, filled with recognizable characters and familiar situations that can be milked for endless prequels, sequels, spin-offs and merchandising. It is the only business model a generation of movie executives know, and they are clinging to it. And so their rush to turn new hits like “Project Hail Mary” and “The Housemaid” into new franchises is to be expected.
But also mourned, as a missed opportunity.
Hollywood used to know better. When John Huston’s “The Maltese Falcon” was a surprise hit — and a star-making vehicle for Humphrey Bogart — in 1941, the studio didn’t rush “The Return of the Maltese Falcon” into production. They looked for other projects for Huston and Bogart. They reteamed character actors Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet in other films. They dug deeper into the rich genre of noir.

Paul Newman and Robert Redford in “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”
After George Roy Hill’s “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” became the sensation of 1969, showcasing Paul Newman’s silver-fox charm and vaulting Robert Redford into superstardom, the three men didn’t immediately reteam — and when they did, it wasn’t on a sequel, or even another Western. Instead, in 1973 they created “The Sting” — another buddy movie, but in a different genre, and an even bigger hit.
Crucially, in both cases, moviemakers didn’t try to duplicate what had made their first film a success. They tried to understand all the things that went into that — an attitude, a style, an on-screen chemistry. And in doing that, instead of limiting themselves to trying to imitate the original film — same stars, same situations — they expanded their offerings, and their audiences.
Oh, you can make a lot of money quickly, if you exploit every last bit of something. But if that’s all you do, you’re soon left with nothing. That is why fishermen throw their catch back if it’s under a certain size. It’s why Christmas tree farms replant every year. It’s not only better for everyone, it’s ultimately more profitable for you — if you intend to be in business for the long haul.
Which is what studios should be thinking about now. They don’t need to send Ryan Gosling into space again, or get Sydney Sweeney another housekeeping job (although, apparently, that’s exactly what the sequel will do). We don’t want to keep spending money just to see something we’ve already seen. We want something — anything — that’s new, enticing, exciting. That is what really worked for these movies: originality.
Going out to the movies instead of watching TV is a little like going out to a nice restaurant when we have a full refrigerator. Sure, we could save money and stay home. We go out because we don’t want the same old thing. We are willing to spend the cash because we want something fresh, something we aren’t growing a little tired of. Because you know what they call a restaurant where the daily special is yesterday’s leftovers, reheated?
Out of business.
_________________________________________
CONTRIBUTE TO NJARTS.NET
Since launching in September 2014, NJArts.net, a 501(c)(3) organization, has become one of the most important media outlets for the Garden State arts scene. And it has always offered its content without a subscription fee, or a paywall. Its continued existence depends on support from members of that scene, and the state’s arts lovers. Please consider making a contribution of any amount to NJArts.net via PayPal, or by sending a check made out to NJArts.net to 11 Skytop Terrace, Montclair, NJ 07043.
