4 Movies That Were Painful to Watch in 2019

For three years now, I have tracked all of the new releases that Steven and I have watched over the year and compiled two lists: The top 3 best movies and the bottom 3 worst movies. And every year, there were always at least 3 awesome films and 3 horrible films to fill out our lists with ease. But this year was different. In 2019, a lot of movies fell into the middleground. Of not being godawful, but also not being anything to write home about. With so many so-so cinematic experiences, I struggled to find my three definitive worst movies of the year.

So I decided to do things differently for my worst list. Instead of reviewing my 3 least favorite films of the year, I’ll be looking into the 4 most painful to watch. Some of these films include great animation and special effects, or decent acting, writing or direction; So they are not necessarily 4 all-around bad quality films. But these 4 gave Steven and me an awful sinking feeling about the future of film. The films discussed will be in order of the date we saw them.

Warning: The Following List Includes Some Spoilers

Before we get into the list, here is a little bit about Steven and my taste in film and what will probably inform why we feel the way we do about the following films:

Steven's favorite films are the ones that move and influence the film industry. He loves Spielberg classics such as Jaws and Jurassic Park and the way they form what it means to be a blockbuster hit, and adores the complexity of The Shining and the excitement of the first two Godfather films. He's also a huge Star Wars buff (so you can imagine how painful this past few years has been for him) with an appreciation for fantasy and sci-fi.

My favorite films are the ones where you get to know the characters extremely well. I love films about relationships such as The Sound of Music, Titanic and Waitress, movies that give me hope like The Shawshank Redemption, and performances like Elizabeth Taylor in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Real people and real experiences interest me greatly. And I don't mind when a real life experience is embedded into fantasy and folklore, as long as it's fully fleshed out.

All films we saw in 2019

(In alphabetical order)

 Aladdin

I know what you’re thinking: “Sydney how could you put this film on your list when you were the one who wrote an entire article sticking up for it?” And it’s true, I didn’t hate 2019’s Aladdin despite its many many many flaws. I thought that of all the recent live-action remakes, it was one of the more thoughtful ones. It’s clear by the structuring of the story and its attention to detail that people who cared about the story of Aladdin wanted to make something nice enough for audiences (unlike the complete soullessness of 2017’s Beauty and the Beast and 2019’s The Lion King - which no we did not choose to suffer through, but definitely would have made this list if we had.) I walked out of the theater feeling like this was a job done decently enough, and wanted to stick up for it when the critics who praised Emma Watson’s wooden auto-tuned performance in Beauty and the Beast had the audacity to then turn around and call this movie a hunk of junk.

‘How dare these people,’ I thought, ‘criticize this film to this extent, when the other remakes were so much worse? Can’t they see that a live action Aladdin in 2019 under the greedy claws of Bob Iger is such a tall order, that despite the fact that it shouldn’t exist at all, we should feel lucky it was not the worst thing in the world ?” And that thought is essentially what placed this film on this list: It has no business existing. Just like the other remakes. Much like the dark days of the direct-to-DVD Disney sequels that forced an answer to the question no one ever asked: “What did happen after happily ever after?” the live-action remakes force the answer to another question no one ever asked: “What would my favorite childhood animated movies be like if it were compiled of rough CGI and wooden acting, stretched out to runtimes that almost rival The Da Vinci Code?”

While I did find this film to be a decent stab at a live-action Disney remake, it did not feel like the real Aladdin movie that I loved as a kid. And in the future, when I feel like watching the story of Aladdin on my own time or decide to show it to my future children, I’m never going to even fathom renting or buying this one. There’s nothing like the real McCoy, and this film - despite some of its earnest efforts, is not great nor needed, and will soon fade into obscurity. Which might be a good thing for those still haunted by the imagery of the CGI blue bobblehead version of Will Smith.

Toy Story 4

Once again, I’m sure you’re getting a catapult of tomatoes ready to launch into my face. Toy Story 4 got a lot of praise from the critics and is an admittedly stunningly beatuiful film with a decent story structure and some memorable comedic moments. So how could I possibly place it on my worst list? And once again, I’ll remind you that this is not a list of the 4 most horribly made films we watched in 2019. It’s the 4 movies that were most painful to watch. And not in an intended Björk Dancer in the Dark kind of way.

Toy Story 4 is the unnecessary 4th installment of the Toy Story franchise, which we all thought ended pretty definitively in 2010 with Toy Story 3. I’m not even a fan of Toy Story 3 as a film (in fact Toy Story 4 might be a better story in the grand scheme of things,) but I think we can all agree that it was a decent enough sendoff to the beloved franchise. Woody and the gang - after years of not being played with by Andy - end up being given away to their new owner, a little girl named Bonnie. A bittersweet ending that showed Andy saying goodbye to each of his childhood toys, making every millennial feel bad for every stuffed animal, doll or action figure they ever tossed onto the yard sale fold-out table. It was cheesy and dramatic, but it felt like closure. The Toy Story franchise ended on a positive note with audiences, after 3 out of 3 well-received films. The curtains closed, we all gave a standing ovation, and we all went home understanding that Woody and his friends would start anew with another kid who loves them.

Enter Toy Story 4, which blew everyone’s minds when it was announced. Why did there need to be a 4th Toy Story film when the third one already tied up all loose ends and made us feel complete? The answer: There didn’t need to be one.

I decided to see it out of sheer curiosity at what they could possibly add to the story. And it ended up being a depressingly forced storyline where Bonnie all of a sudden doesn’t care about Woody to the point where she doesn’t even notice when she loses him completely by the end of the film. This leads him to somewhat of a mid-toylife crisis that causes him to leave Bonnie to join his old girlfriend Bo Peep in their new purpose: Uniting toys with new owners at the nearby carnival. And the movie ends with a sad goodbye between Woody and Buzz, Jessie and the rest of the gang. While the film has several strongpoints to it - including some masterful cinematographic milestones made by Pixar’s Patrick Lin - this storyline was so preposterous and needlessly depressing that it left a bad taste in my mouth.

I know that Disney and even Pixar have become known for stories where everything gets tied in a pretty bow by the end, and that they are trying to work on more complex and nuanced storylines and endings to challenge their viewers (take for example the ending to Inside Out,) and I commend them on that. But having to tell this strange mid-life crisis storyline with a character whose story was already finished properly 9 years ago felt like they were just trying to make money off the Toy Story name…which of course is exactly what was going on.

Even though this film starred Woody and featured the other Toy Story characters, this was barely a Toy Story film. Rather, it felt like a film taking place elsewhere in the Toy Story universe. Formerly important characters like Buzz and Jessie took a backseat story-wise, and secondary characters like Slinky Dog, Rex, Hamm and Mr. Potato Head (whose lines were only comprised of old existing recordings of the now late Don Rickles) were barely in the film at all. The main focus of the film besides Woody were Forky, Bo Peep, and all of the other characters they meet at the antique store and carnival. And you know what the strangest part is? Besides Ducky and Bunny, I had a lot of fun watching a movie about the new characters and their roles within the film’s universe. I just wish that they had gone full-tilt and just focused on them, instead of using Woody and his pals as framework. Why drag Woody into this sad storyline of Bonnie not caring about him anymore and him having to leave the friends who love him because of it, when you could just start telling the same story with a whole new cast of characters? This universe they’ve created is still pretty great on its own! The concept behind Forky and what constitutes a toy is hilarious! The idea of a toy having a midlife crisis is interesting! It just didn’t have to be told using Woody and the gang.

The feeling I got from this film reminded me of television spin-off shows that tell a story we didn’t need, of a character whose original story ended just fine where we left off, like Joey following Friends or The Golden Palace following The Golden Girls, instead of doing what it should have, which is breathe new life into an existing limited character the way Frasier did following Cheers. I hope this is the last Toy Story installment involving the original characters. Because I don’t even consider this one canon. In my mind, Bonnie wouldn’t have tossed Woody to the side after seeing how much he meant to Andy. I know that kids are kids, but this isn’t a documentary on 2020, it’s a supposedly heartwarming Disney Pixar franchise, and I’m allowed to not have a jaded sense of realism when looking at the universe at hand.

Scary Stores To Tell in the Dark

If you are wondering which of these films I find to be the worst quality and the least watchable, this is the 2019 winner. This was an overall awful film with almost nothing to redeem itself. But I didn’t leave the theater feeling angry at the people who made this film - I left feeling angry at myself for not doing my research ahead of time. I purchased tickets to this film after seeing visually interesting TV spots for it that featured the words “From Academy Award Winner Guillermo Del Toro.” I thought: Who better to utilize practical effects to bring to life the terrifying imagery that haunted so many 80s/90s kids’ dreams? If anyone was going to do it correctly, it would be him.

But little did I realize that Del Toro was not the director of this film, but rather one of the producers. It reminds me of when I was in high school and had to push my glasses up my nose and inform everyone around me that Coraline’s advertisement stated it was by the director of The Nightmare Before Christmas, Henry Selick, and not the creator, Tim Burton. Falling for these simple marketing tactics can really sign you up for a very different experience than you were expecting. And it wasn’t until the day of our screening that I made the realization. We considered cancelling our reserved tickets, but I ultimately decided that it would be worth it to assess the seemingly impressive imagery from the trailer spots. And unfortunately I’d already seen all of the film’s best imagery before entering the theater. They wasted every single freaky looking thing in this movie, in the trailers (see below.) And now that you had no new images to look forward to, then came the chore of sitting through the awful storyline.

What you end up with is a generic group of teenagers, in a generic small town, who attend a generic school, deal with generic teen problems, and go on a generic spooky mystery adventure. With the existence of It, Stranger Things, and every other film or program where a group of misfit kids discover something terrifying and mystical that changes their lives forever, there is no reason anyone should have to watch this watered down version of the trope. So why does it exist? So that someone can profit off the title Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. Besides the fact that the film features a few of the stories from the classic book being read, it has nothing in common with the essence of the book. And all of the great pieces of nostalgic imagery people remember only last a couple of minutes at a time before fading into obscurity. And don’t even get me started on the boring climax - if you can even call it one.

About 15 minutes into the movie I turned to Steven and whispered “Oh man, we messed up. This is a teeny bopper movie.” This film was meant for people about 13-17 years old, who are on dates with their crushes or out with their classmates, looking for something they can talk about the following Monday in homeroom. And while I do think teens are able to handle more complex storylines and more sophisticated humor than this film offered, I will admit that I should have done more research on this film before showing up.

But because of the title Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, I assumed this film was for people in their 20s and 30s who had read the book as kids. And because of Del Toro’s association, I thought it was going to really explore the imagery and provide a unique cinematic experience. But ‘twas not the case. The film has garnered some decent reception from critics, and perhaps it’s because they are judging from the perspective of its intended audience of teenagers. Or maybe it’s because of the successful depictions of the eerie characters that spooked an entire generation. They definitely make the trailers well worth a gander! Just not the 1 hour 47 minute snoozefest we experienced.

Star Wars: Episode IX - The Rise of Skywalker

While Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark took the cake in terms of the most awful cinematic experience of 2019, Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker was the Grand Poobah in terms of films that were painful to take in. Steven and I come from very different relationships with the Star Wars franchise (he grew up knowing the first six movies and other spin-offs like the back of his hand, while my first Star Wars film was The Force Awakens and I have since gone back and watched about half of the older movies,) and yet we both could agree that the send-off for this trilogy was pathetic and offensive.

The unnecessary directorial relay race of Disney’s first stab at a Star Wars trilogy had J.J. Abrams (at the time hot off the heels of his relatively successful Star Trek films) taking on the task of starting out the franchise with The Force Awakens, then passing the metaphorical baton to Looper director Rian Johnson for The Last Jedi, who would then finally pass the baton back to Abrams for The Rise of Skywalker. Now if you’re thinking that this already sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, you’d be right. More than one director taking the wheel without any clear guidance from Disney or the now uninvolved George Lucas made for a confused, directionless tug-of-war-esque collection of hit and miss films that in hindsight, the universe could have done without.

And I was somewhat a fan of The Force Awakens! Sure it didn’t have a strong story structure and didn’t make complete sense within the Star Wars universe. But it was visually stimulating, funny and full of really charming characters. Even Steven who eventually saw it for its universe flaws couldn’t deny that it was a likable and interesting take on the franchise. But then The Last Jedi came around and threw a wrench in all of the developing friendships and storylines from The Force Awakens. Suddenly, the spotlight was taken off the budding relationship between Rey and Finn, Rose - an insulting stereotype of a naive busybody Asian woman - was introduced as a new love interest for Finn, Snoke was anticlimactically killed in two seconds, Kylo Ren and Rey were somehow using the force to DM each other, Leia flew through space like Superman, some annoying purple-haired lady somehow used hyperspace to carry out a galaxy side impact collision, and the long-anticipated mystery of who Rey’s parents were ended up being a non-plotpoint. So needless to say, Abrams had a lot of housekeeping to do with the mess that Johnson had created, and had to wrap up all of the plot points he had originally intended for the series. I decided to go a little easier on him in criticizing the coherency in this film if (and this was a major if) he could tie up loose ends and give satisfying answers to the questions he originally posed. And that did not happen. So roast him we shall. I’ll go get the firewood.

The Rise of Skywalker is a painful mess from beginning to end. Beloved characters like Po and Finn took a major backseat for no good reason, Kylo lost his edge and Rey suddenly turned into Jesus. Not only did she suddenly become an expert on the force and commandeering any starship she boards, but she is also able to use the force to heal the wounded, and move a shuttle mid-flight. For a moment, I thought she was going to start multiplying loaves of bread and slabs of fish. Speaking of the force, not only can you send direct messages to other people’s minds, fly through space and play tug-of-war with space crafts, but the force can help you teleport your belongings and play hot potato with death.

Sure Abrams had the good sense to undo or call out the preposterousness plotpoints of The Last Jedi and get us back on track as to what Rey’s lineage was. However, no matter how much he tried to undo the flaws of Episode 8, I’m convinced every change and decision made in this film was slapped together last minute. Sure, we got rid of Rose Tico, but Finn and Rey never got together in the film, nor did Finn ever get to fully establish his friendship or romantic relationship (not sure what the writers were going for) with new ally Jannah. When Johnson threw a wrench into Abrams’ initial plans of Rey having a lineage tied to an existing Star Wars character, Abrams was able to thwart it. But when it turned out that Rey was Palpatine’s granddaughter, you could tell that there was no careful thought put into that decision. And while some people thought Princess Leia’s death was handled gracefully, I felt that it was unnecessary to kill of her character at all. It was too on the nose for my taste and felt like they were just trying to make a spectacle out of Carrie Fisher’s death. Then he killed off my favorite character after what felt like an unwarranted kiss between Rey and Kylo - sorry, Ben Solo. But after Kylo’s death there was a small glimmer of hope, with Finn still trying to find Rey to tell her something important. However the moment they finally reunite, they just do an awkward three-way hug with Poe and the movie and entire trilogy is over. And what was Mr. Abrams’ response when asked what Finn had been trying to tell Rey all along? That Finn was trying to tell her that he felt he was also force-sensitive. So the whole series officially ended, revealing itself as a crock of bull. A very disappointing ending for what seemed promising and exciting 4 years ago. I wish it didn’t cost $900 million to call a do-over, because I really would have liked to have seen these characters in a proper trilogy that fully fleshed them out.

What Did These 4 Films Have In Common?

The obvious common thread between these four films are the nostalgia-hungry market. The idea that these film studios are so desperate to make money off of our love for existing franchises is making quite the mockery of modern film. Not only by making watered down versions or additions to our favorite stories, but by throwing in elements no one asked for by people who don’t have a grand vision for the franchise, causing many people including myself to discount these additions as non-canon.

Sure there are parts of the Star Wars prequels that make Steven squirm, but he feels confident that they are canon, because they are by the man who dreamt up Star Wars himself, George Lucas. And while I hated the ending to How I Met Your Mother and still joke that we have 4 more years to save Tracy Mosby’s life so that Ted doesn’t get back together with Robin, I still find the original ending to be canon, because the creators intended for it all along. Having a bunch of new cooks in the kitchen come in and try to convince me “No this is what happens to Woody in the end,” “No this is the real story behind Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” and “No this is how Han, Leia and Luke die,” is something I can’t buy into. Similarly, as a huge Lizzie McGuire fan, when I heard that the new reboot was going to have Lizzie and Gordo no longer together, I refused to accept it as part of Lizzie’s story. And with the original creator of the show leaving the reboot project, I’m even more suspicious that that wasn’t her vision to begin with. It’s a tricky business deciding if the original creator of a piece of content is the owner of it forever. Because sometimes the original creator knows best (take what happened to Game of Thrones when a team that didn’t include George RR Martin wrote the ending,) and sometimes they don’t (for example, the strange decisions JK Rowling is making to the Harry Potter universe lately.) It’s a case by case issue. And when characters or a universe are incredibly fleshed out, each fan develops their own relationship with the material and their own way of interpreting what would come next or when the ending of the story would be.

But one thing is for sure when it comes to these films and their influences on their respective franchises: Time will tell. Regardless of how anyone feels about these films at this point in time, down the line it will become more obvious to us whether or not these films made a positive cultural impact. Years from now when we decide between streaming Aladdin from 1992 or Aladdin from 2019. When we decide to either read Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark to our kid on a camping trip, or rent the 2019 film for them. When we decide whether or not to give Star Wars Episodes VII-IX the Godfather 3 treatment when talking about the franchise. Lock in your predictions now. Until we meet again!