The Guardian view on film sequels: an infinitely expanding universe with no room to breathe

A few weeks ago, Bob Iger, the boss of Disney, stood in the latest outpost of the hugely profitable Frozen franchise – a theme park in Hong Kong – and revealed that the studio was already working on a fourth film in the series before it had even got round to releasing the third instalment of the animated blockbuster.

A lot will be riding on their success for Mr Iger, who was summoned back from an 11-month retirement in 2022 in an attempt to steady a foundering ship. When it opened in 2019, Frozen II became the highest grossing animated release of all time, ousting the 2013 original from pole position with takings of $1.45bn at the box office. A Broadway musical version of the first film followed, which is now touring the US, though last week it emerged that the production currently running in London’s West End will close in early September.

These are tough times for the big studios, which have taken a whipping from the long tail of the pandemic while already destabilised by streaming. Periods of great instability drive businesses back to places of safety, so it is unsurprising to see a torrent of sequels heading down the chute. In the case of a new spy caper, Argylle, they are a done deal even before anyone has had a chance to see if the original is any good. The classic film trilogy has made way for a seemingly endless slew of follow-ups, prequels and spinoffs.

Of course, sequels are not necessarily inferior to the originals. They have their own benchmarks of quality as well as profitability. Judgment Day gave a new complexity to Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Terminator, just as Heath Ledger’s Oscar-winning turn as the Joker in The Dark Knight helped to rocket-boost the emerging Batman franchise. One admiring critic called Paddington 2 “the Godfather Part II of Peruvian Bear movies”.

But for every triumph there are many more stinkers, some of which are beyond defence even for those involved in making them. When Michael Caine, who starred in Jaws 4, was asked by the chatshow host Jonathan Ross if he had seen the film, he replied: “No. But I’ve seen the house it bought for my mum. It’s fantastic!”

As owners of the comics publishing imprint, Marvel Entertainment, Disney finessed its ever-repeating superhero stories into a “cinematic universe” in which plotlines and characters were shared across films. But there are signs that even this ingenious wheeze may be getting tired – not least because it’s hard to understand what is going on unless you have seen them all. The Marvels, the 33rd addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), last year became its poorest-performing film to date, with fans complaining that production standards were suffering from the assembly line rate of production. As if reading the runes, the intergalactic posse of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3 appears to have disbanded itself after a final, successful, outing.

Becoming trapped in an infinite universe of endless repetition is not a problem exclusive to film. Publishing, too, has long regarded more of the same as a handy way of shoring up its changeable fortunes, pumping out sequels and pushing authors into branding straitjackets. This may be a necessary part of a solvent cultural ecology. But there is a danger of it becoming so bloated and lazy that it squeezes out the new and original. If Disney’s troubles with the Marvelverse force it to slow down and up its game, it will be doing the world a favour.