The recent announcement that Robert Downey Jr. will don the mantle of Dr. Doom after years of embodying Tony Stark/Iron Man sent shockwaves through the entertainment sphere. Unveiled at Nerd Mecca (Comic Con’s Hall H), the news was met with wild enthusiasm from attending fans. Soon, a torrent of think-pieces flooded the media, from entertainment outlets to daily news channels, all asking, “What does this mean?” And for good reason. This move is more than just a casting choice; it’s a microcosm of a broader insidious trend where creativity is sacrificed at the altar of commerce. Where the comforting allure of nostalgia trumps all. While looking backwards to carve a path forward may seem like a reliable strategy, nostalgia-plays inherently bank upon a limited resource. We will eventually run out of cameos and callbacks, especially if modern entertainment is already so focused on looking back. This ouroboros-like cycle, where the industry repeatedly consumes its past until past and present become intertwined, has significant implications for our broader cultural dynamics and the future of entertainment as well as society.

This much is clear: nostalgia is a powerful driver of engagement and profits. Hollywood’s repeated dips into the well of the familiar are no surprise. Case in point: Deadpool & Wolverine’s record-breaking opening weekend, which raked in a staggering $205 million, driven in part by the return of previously killed-off characters and a litany of high-profile cameos. But this multiversal loop isn’t anything super new – Spider-Man: No Way Home did the same thing in 2021 to massive box office returns. But the House of Mouse’s nostalgia baiting goes back further. The post-Disney acquisition of Star Wars has leaned heavily on familiar faces and storylines—and admittedly resulted in big profits from time to time — though the shine has dulled since. The most recent sequel trilogy has largely aged like mud, highlighting the diminishing returns of banking too heavily on nostalgia as a wellspring for new stories.

But while nostalgia acts as a comfort food for audiences, it’s worth remembering that comfort food may taste good, but it’s not good for us. The entertainment industry’s over-reliance on nostalgia comes at the expense of originality and creative risks. By continually mining the past, we stifle the evolution and innovation necessary for the growth of any artistic medium. New and diverse stories struggle to find their footing in a landscape dominated by reboots and familiar faces. This creative stagnation isn’t just a loss for the industry; it’s a cultural cost, as it limits the scope of narratives that reflect and shape our collective experience.

Enter the concept of MEGA-tainment: the phenomenon where entertainment, much like politics, becomes a vehicle for nostalgia-driven engagement. It’s the entertainment equivalent of the MAGA movement, which taps into a collective longing for a perceived golden age, promising a return to simpler, more prosperous times—one that is impossible to actually define, amorphous, and maybe never existed at all. This nostalgic lens fosters a resistance to change and innovation, both in entertainment and politics, hindering societal progress and the acceptance of new ideas. It creates an environment where we are clinging to a romanticized version of the past, reluctant to embrace the future. The parallels between a yearning for what we once knew in the multiplexes and in our politics suggest a broader cultural trend where nostalgia becomes a safe harbor in uncertain times, yet it is a harbor that offers no actual progress or forward momentum. To quote Nietzsche, “One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.” There is no chaos, no creativity, in rear-view mirror driving.

After Jonathan Majors was convicted of felony assault, Kevin Feige and the MCU head honchos had two options: go back to the drawing board or go with a known quality. They chose the later in multiple cases, also bringing back longtime Avengers franchise directors, The Russo Brothers. Casting someone like Cillian Murphy as Dr. Doom, a long-time fan favorite for the role, and putting some fresh (but proven) blood behind the camera could have propelled a new era of storytelling and injected new life into the franchise – as opposed to a cynical admission that the only way forward is to look back.