By
Tommy Siddhu
Hollywood—a place that spins stories so grand we often confuse them with reality. It has the power to transport us, thrill us, break our hearts, and uplift us all in one breath. But for all its spectacle, there’s a persistent question that nags: does Hollywood have a soul, or has it been buried beneath mountains of cash and spectacle-driven blockbusters? If Hollywood has a heart, where should we begin our search to find it?
This is not just a surface-level inquiry into the entertainment industry; it’s about the very nature of art and commerce, a question that has haunted Hollywood since the first studio moguls realised that storytelling could become an empire. So, if Hollywood’s soul still exists, where is it hiding?
It’s tempting to say that storytelling is where Hollywood’s soul lies. After all, the dream factory has always prided itself on the power of narrative. But what happens when the stories being told feel more like regurgitated formulas than reflections of human experience? Yet, every now and then, a film emerges that touches something deeper, reminding us that Hollywood can still offer more than CGI explosions and cookie-cutter scripts.
Take Moonlight—a film that defied the odds to win Best Picture. Its quiet, nuanced portrayal of identity and masculinity wasn’t the kind of movie that screamed box-office gold, yet it resonated so profoundly that it became a cultural landmark. Then there’s Nomadland, which seemed to stand in quiet defiance of Hollywood’s usual fare, telling the story of a marginalised America often ignored by the industry that profits from it.
But here’s the catch—films like these, while rare in the mainstream, suggest that Hollywood’s soul is not dead, just eclipsed by the towering franchises and sequels that flood the market. When a film like Moonlight breaks through, it feels like a rare glimpse of a forgotten heart.
Hollywood is, at its core, a business. It’s easy to forget this when we get swept away by the latest epic space battle or tear-jerking drama, but behind every film is a corporation calculating its profitability. The studios are invested in franchises that can churn out billions—think Marvel, Fast & Furious, or Star Wars. And while they undeniably offer entertainment, they often feel like hollow spectacles designed to fuel the box office rather than to move the audience.
But then, there are filmmakers who manage to play both sides of the game—balancing artistic integrity with commercial success. Quentin Tarantino is a prime example. His films are undeniably box office hits, but they are also steeped in his unique vision, style, and unrelenting passion for storytelling.
So, maybe Hollywood’s soul is not lost, but simply masked by layers of financial interest. It peeks out through the cracks, in the work of filmmakers who refuse to sacrifice vision for profit. These auteurs remind us that in an industry built on commerce, art can still thrive—if only just barely.
Hollywood has long positioned itself as a force for social change. From civil rights to LGBTQ+ rights, films have played a part in shaping cultural dialogue. Movies like 12 Years a Slave and Black Panther pushed forward conversations about race and representation, earning both critical acclaim and box-office success. These films showcase Hollywood’s ability to impact society, challenging long-held prejudices and elevating underrepresented voices.
But the question remains: is Hollywood’s activism genuine, or just a marketing tool? After all, this is the same industry that historically marginalised and exploited people of colour, women, and LGBTQ+ individuals for decades. Are films like Black Panther a genuine sign of progress, or simply Hollywood capitalising on social movements for profit?
The answer may lie somewhere in between. Hollywood, for all its flaws, still provides a platform for stories that need to be told. The business machinery behind these films may be self-serving, but the impact they have on the world cannot be denied. Maybe the soul of Hollywood is hidden in the tension between commerce and social change, a precarious balance where progress happens despite the forces working against it
With the rise of streaming platforms like Netflix, Amazon, and Disney+, the landscape of content creation has shifted dramatically. Suddenly, we’re no longer confined to Hollywood studios as the gatekeepers of what stories get told. Streaming has democratised content in ways unimaginable just a decade ago, giving rise to a more diverse array of voices.
But even here, we find that tension between art and commerce. Streaming platforms are notorious for data-driven content creation, where algorithms determine what viewers want before they even know it. This datafication of creativity feels, at times, like the death knell for the art of storytelling. And yet, streaming has given us The Queen’s Gambit, Squid Game, and Roma—proof that the medium can produce high art alongside its endless waves of formulaic binge fodder.
Perhaps Hollywood’s soul is scattered across these platforms, decentralised yet still alive, waiting to be discovered in the unlikeliest corners of the digital landscape.
So, does Hollywood still have a soul? The answer, like most things in Tinseltown, is complicated. The soul of Hollywood isn’t found in any one place. It’s scattered across the indie scene, in the passion projects of auteurs who refuse to conform. It’s tucked away in the few blockbusters that transcend their commercial origins to deliver something truly meaningful. And it’s visible in the activism that occasionally bursts through the industry’s carefully crafted image.
Hollywood’s soul may not reside in the glitz and glamour of red carpets or in the towering skyscrapers of studio executives’ offices. Instead, it’s found in the margins, where art still battles commerce, where stories still have the power to change minds, and where filmmakers, against all odds, continue to create work that speaks to the human condition.
In the end, Hollywood isn’t soulless—it’s just hiding. The real question is: are we willing to look beyond the spectacle to find it?