Are films getting less colourful?

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Fans have been loud online, voicing a common criticism: that today’s films and TV series look a bit lifeless. We ask filmmakers for an explanation
Words Katie Kasperson
It’s 2026, and everyone has got an opinion. Influencers are now attending film festivals and posting their paid ‘reviews’, while audiences are taking to social media, critiquing productions without necessarily knowing how they were made. The latest rhetoric is that today’s films and TV series are devoid of colour and light – that sequels look worse than their predecessors and that modern productions are bland and desaturated.
This is, of course, an oversimplification, so we went to the source: DOPs. We chat to two cinematographers, Andrew Droz Palermo, ASC and Nyk Allen, who give their take on the great debate. What are audiences picking up on? What’s happening, and why?
Definition: Many fans believe that productions have gotten less colourful over time. What is your response?
Nyk Allen: I think there is something real in what people are noticing, but the comparison usually skips over the reason. Those older films were not more colourful simply because of their format; they were more colourful because someone chose to push them there. The Wizard of Oz was built as a spectacle. The early Harry Potter films were intentionally warm and stylised. The newer versions could be just as saturated if that was the creative aim. Usually this is less a technology issue and more a taste issue.
The other thing that rarely gets a mention is the viewing environment. People are judging images on TVs with motion smoothing, auto brightness, AI picture settings, vivid modes and all kinds of processing that the filmmakers never approved. We grade in controlled, calibrated rooms, whereas most people are watching at home in bright spaces on displays that are rewriting the image before they ever see it. The gap between those two experiences is real.
Andrew Droz Palermo: I resist the notion that cinematography should be bound by a singular aesthetic. What served the narrative requirements of the past is not a universal blueprint; visual language must evolve alongside the story. To choose to mimic the palettes of the Technicolor era or the specific aesthetic of a predecessor would be an exercise in pastiche rather than purposeful filmmaking.
That said, I do feel a certain nostalgia for the rigorous craft of the classical era. We must acknowledge, however, that those masterworks often had a level of artisanal attention and production timelines that the highly compressed schedules and financial constraints of contemporary filmmaking rarely permit.


Def: Terms like ‘Netflix lighting’ and ‘Hulu lighting’ have been thrown around, referring to a lacklustre image – but as filmmakers, we know that gaffers, DOPs, colourists and others are all responsible for the final image. Who is ‘to blame’ here?
ADP: The gaffer and the colourist are vital extensions of the cinematographer’s intent. I seek out collaborators who don’t just execute a plan, but who actively challenge my plans and elevate the visual language.
The ‘Netflix lighting’ critique, or the tendency to blame the colourist for a lacklustre image, is often a reductive diagnosis. A ‘bad’ image is typically a systemic failure. This might include a production schedule that forced a scene to be shot under unfavourable natural light or a location that prohibited the necessary modifications to control the frame. Or, when the production design, wardrobe and lighting are not in a state of harmony, the image inevitably suffers. On the outside, it’s impossible to pinpoint what aspect went wrong when something feels off, but it’s also completely subjective.
NA: As a cinematographer, I do appreciate the discourse, but it is less about one platform and more about a broader flattening, which can happen across the whole production. It isn’t just the lighting; it is the locations, casting, wardrobe, production design, writing, framing, grade and the overall lack of a strong point of view. Everything starts to feel clean, legible, polished and safe – but not necessarily alive – resulting in projects that feel bland, flat and emotionally thin.
Digital sensors have a part to play in this. Modern cameras have incredible dynamic range and low-light sensitivity, which is a great tool when used with purpose. However, it can also remove some of the pressure to make strong lighting decisions on-set. If the camera can see into every shadow and hold every highlight, it becomes easier to make something visible but not expressive. Digital gives you more control but fewer natural guardrails; the discipline has to come from the filmmakers themselves.
The grade can only enhance what is already there. If the image is not being built with intention, post can only do so much before it starts to feel artificial. Strong images usually come from alignment all the way through the pipeline, from prep to set to grade to final delivery. On top of that, there are layers of approval that happen before the image ever reaches your screen.
There is a lot of work right now with an overly even look, but the bigger issue is not just colour or contrast; it is the absence of bold visual authorship.


Def: If productions really are less vibrant now, why?
NA: The dominant trend has been toward naturalism, motivated sources, softer shaping and less overt stylisation. That can be beautiful when it is actually motivated by the story, but it gets tired when it becomes the default language. Realism is not inherently better.
There is also a production side to this. Many people are watching the image in real time. Producers, clients, agencies, brand teams – everyone has a monitor and an opinion. Bold choices can get softened before they ever make it to post and work ends up in a safer middle because the pipeline rewards flexibility, legibility and approval more than risk.
The technical side really matters, too. Digital workflows, HDR, streaming delivery, compression and the different screens people watch on all affect the final image. But those tools do not decide the look – people do. The problem is modern workflows make it easier to postpone visual decisions, and sometimes those decisions aren’t made.
I do think the pendulum is starting to swing back. Films that embrace colour, contrast, texture and visual confidence tend to stand out because audiences are hungry for images that feel authored.


Def: In today’s digital era, fans can share their unfiltered thoughts for all to see. As a filmmaker, how much do you (or should you) concern yourself with online criticism? How do you balance pleasing fans, critics and clients with making art?
ADP: Online criticism doesn’t factor into my day-to-day work. While it is gratifying when a film resonates with an audience, my primary responsibility is to help the director tell the story in the way that they have envisioned. I always strive to find a personal entry point into the material. If I can achieve visual harmony with my director by creating images that feel both intellectually and emotionally honest, but still exciting, I trust that the work will find its footing with the public.
NA: You cannot make work specifically for the comments section. Most of that feedback is personal taste presented like fact. That said, I do think there is smart criticism online, and it is worth being aware of. The trick is knowing what is informed and what is noise.
The real balance is always between the director, the client or studio and your own voice. You are there to serve the story, but your taste still lives in the choices you make. Lenses, framing, contrast, rhythm, where the light falls – that is where your authorship stays alive. Online opinion should not be the factor that is driving those decisions and, if anything, studios and streaming platforms should be taking that feedback as a sign that audiences still respond to bold choices and give artists the room to make them.
This article appears in the June/July 2026 issue of Definition


