There’s a very specific kind of heartbreak that comes with loving musicals. When they work, they really work. But when they don’t? It’s not just a bad movie—it takes a toll on the entire genre. The truth is, musicals are one of the hardest to get right. They demand tonal precision, strong performances, memorable music, and a willingness to fully commit to the bit. If even one of those elements falters, the whole thing can collapse into unintentional comedy—or worse, complete boredom.
And in the last few decades, we’ve seen more than a few high-profile misfires that prove just how delicate that balance really is. Because for every Chicagoor The Sound of Music, there’s a Cats—a project so baffling in execution that it becomes legendary for all the wrong reasons. So yes, while musicals hold a special place in my heart, these cinematic disasters truly tested my loyalty as they didn’t just miss the mark: they veered wildly off-key.
8
‘Diana: The Musical’ (2021)
Image via Netflix
If there was ever a musical that felt like it shouldn’t exist, it’s Diana: The Musical. Chronicling the life of Princess Diana (Jeanna de Waal)—from her whirlwind romance with Prince Charles (Roe Hartrampf) to her struggles within the royal family—the show attempts to condense real-life tragedy, tabloid frenzy, and cultural legacy into a series of aggressively peppy musical numbers. And yes, it really does include lyrics about paparazzi and royal drama that feel…wildly mismatched in tone.
While it is a filmed performance, this movie still remains a baffling watch as it effectively treats deeply sensitive material with the energy of a campy high school production. The emotional weight never quite lands because it’s constantly undercut by clunky lyrics and tonal confusion. To its credit, it’s almost fascinating in how misguided it is—teetering between earnest tribute and accidental parody. But as a musical? It’s the kind of experience that leaves you wondering how it made it past the concept stage in the first place. Perhaps you should just stick to The Crown if you’re in need of a royal fix.
7
‘Paint Your Wagon’ (1969)
Clint Eastwood, Jean Seberg, and Lee Marvin pose as central throuple in ‘Paint Your Wagon’Image Via Paramount Pictures
On paper, a musical western starring Clint Eastwood and Lee Marvin sounds like a bold experiment. But in practice, Paint Your Wagon is a slow, meandering experience that never quite lives up to the star power pushing it. Set during the California Gold Rush, the film follows a group of prospectors navigating love, greed, and frontier life—complete with songs that feel bizarrely dropped in rather than organically earned.
The biggest issue? It’s painfully overlong and oddly lifeless for a genre built on energy and momentum. Eastwood, while iconic in many ways, isn’t exactly a natural singer, and the film leans into a strange tonal mix that never settles. Sure, there are flashes of charm, but they’re buried beneath an almost 3-hour runtime that tests your patience. It’s less “epic musical” and more “why is this still going on?”
6
‘The Apple’ (1980)
A young woman holding a vase in The AppleImage via The Cannon Group
Few musicals have achieved the kind of cult notoriety that The Apple has (and for good reason). Set in a dystopian future, the film follows two aspiring musicians navigating a sinister, music-industry-controlled society where fame comes at a very literal cost. Think disco, sci-fi, biblical allegory, and absolute chaos—all crammed into one glitter-drenched fever dream.
To call it bizarre would be an understatement. The songs are relentlessly catchy in the most chaotic way, the visuals are aggressively over-the-top, the performances are sub-par at best, and the messaging swings wildly between satire and sincerity. So yes, while it is undeniably entertaining, it’s often for all the wrong reasons. In many ways, The Apple is the kind of movie you can really only watch once, since you’ll leave it maniacally laughing as you question your own sanity.
5
‘Emilia Pérez’ (2024)
Karla Sofia Gascon as Emilia and Zoe Saldana as Rita stand together surrounded by paparazzi and reportersImage via Netflix
While it received significant critical acclaim during the 2025 awards season, Emilia Pérezcertainly swings for the fences with its musical form. Following a Mexican drug lord who enlists a lawyer to help orchestrate her disappearance and rebirth, the film blends genres in a way that feels ambitious, bold, and yet, completely uneven.
Sure, there are moments of visual flair and compelling ideas, but the musical elements often clash with the gravity of the story. Songs interrupt rather than enhance, and the tonal shifts can feel jarring rather than intentional (need we say more about the goofy lyrics and the memes that followed?) Frankly, it’s the kind of film that you admire for taking risks, but also question at nearly every turn. When it works, it’s intriguing. But when it doesn’t, it’s downright bewildering.
4
‘Dear Evan Hansen’ (2021)
Image via Universal Pictures
Adapted from the beloved stage musical, Dear Evan Hansenfollows a socially anxious teenager who becomes entangled in a lie after a classmate’s death, with his choices leading to unexpected popularity and severe emotional consequences. On stage, the tale is a raw and intimate exploration of loneliness and connection. But on screen…things get a little complicated.
The biggest hurdle, of course, is its casting. Though winning a Tony Award for his original portrayal of Evan, casting a visibly older Ben Platt as a high-schooler creates an immediate disconnect that the film never quite overcomes. Beyond that, the story’s moral ambiguity becomes far harder to swallow in a cinematic context, where close-ups amplify a very uncomfortable choice. Yes, the songs remain powerful, but they’re weighed down by staging that feels overly polished and emotionally distant. In this sense, Dear Evan Hansen becomes a stark reminder that not every Broadway hit translates seamlessly to film—especially when they don’t consider the storytelling differences of the artistic medium.
3
‘Joker: Folie à Deux’ (2024)
Lady Gaga as Harley Quinn and Joaquin Phoenix as Joker dancing on the stairs in Joker: Folie á DeuxImage via Warner Bros.
While the posters and trailers managed to build significant hype, turning Joker into a musical sequel was always going to be a gamble—and Folie à Deuxleans all the way in. Following Arthur Fleck’s (Joaquin Phoenix) continued descent, now intertwined with the illusive Harley Quinn (Lady Gaga), the film blends psychological drama with musical sequences that aim to reflect his fractured state of mind.
In theory, it’s an inspired choice. In execution, it’s deeply divisive. The musical numbers often disrupt the narrative momentum rather than deepen it, creating a push-and-pull between tone and storytelling. There are flashes of brilliance, particularly in its visual language and how the songs attempt to externalize Arthur’s psyche, but the overall experience feels massively disjointed. It also doesn’t help that the writing is incredibly clunky, leaving audiences more puzzled than moved. Yet another example of a highly anticipated sequel completely dropping the ball.
2
‘Music’ (2021)
Image via VerticalImage via Vertical
Directed by Sia, Musicfollows a newly sober woman who becomes the guardian of her autistic half-sister, forcing her to navigate responsibility, connection, and personal growth. Interspersed with brightly colored musical sequences, the film attempts to explore neurodivergence through a bold, heightened, and stylized lens.
Unfortunately, it became controversial for all the wrong reasons. Criticism around its portrayal of autism—combined with questionable creative decisions—overshadowed any intended message. Even so, the musical numbers, while visually striking, often feel disconnected from the emotional core of the story. It’s a film that clearly aims for sincerity, but its offensive choices miss the mark in ways that are difficult to ignore.
1
‘Cats’ (2019)
Image via Universal Pictures
Is anyone really surprised? No other musical adaptation has become an infamous cultural event like Cats. Looking back at it now, there should’ve been some trepidation by the filmmakers since this Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber phenomenon follows a group of Jellicle cats competing for a chance at rebirth. Who would ever think that this would work as a “live-action” film?
Indeed, there’s really no way to prepare for what Cats throws at you. Between the infamous “digital fur technology”, the uncanny valley character designs, and the lack of a coherent narrative—it all combines into something that feels less like a movie and more like a painful fever dream. Sure, for some, there’s a strange fascination to it. It’s chaotic, baffling, occasionally camp, and completely unhinged. But as a musical, it’s a disaster. As an experience, however? You’ll never forget it—and honestly, that might just be its greatest achievement (even though it wastes 2 hours of your own life).
Collider Exclusive · Oscar Best Picture Quiz Which Oscar Best Picture Is Your Perfect Movie? Parasite · Everything Everywhere · Oppenheimer · Birdman · No Country
Five Oscar Best Picture winners. Five completely different visions of what cinema can be — and what it can do to you. One of them is the film that was made for the way your mind works. Ten questions will figure out which one.
🪜Parasite 🌀Everything Everywhere ☢️Oppenheimer 🐦Birdman 🪙No Country for Old Men
01 What kind of film experience do you actually want? The best movies don’t just entertain — they leave something behind.
02 Which idea grabs you most in a film? Great films are driven by a central obsession. What’s yours?
03 How do you like your story told? Form is content. The way a story is shaped changes what it means.
04 What makes a truly great antagonist? The opposition defines the protagonist. What kind of opposition fascinates you?
05 What do you want from a film’s ending? The final note is the one that lingers. What do you want it to sound like?
06 Which setting pulls you in most? Where a film takes place shapes everything — mood, stakes, what’s even possible.
07 What cinematic craft impresses you most? Every great film has a signature — a technical or artistic element that makes it unmistakable.
08 What kind of main character do you root for? The protagonist is the lens. Who you choose to follow says something about you.
09 How do you feel about a film that takes its time? Pace is a choice. Some films sprint; others let tension accumulate slowly, deliberately.
10 What do you want to feel walking out of the cinema? The best films leave a mark. What kind of mark do you want?
The Academy Has Decided Your Perfect Film Is…
Your answers have pointed to one Oscar Best Picture winner above all others. This is the film that was made for the way your mind works.
Parasite
You are drawn to films that operate on multiple levels simultaneously — that begin in one genre and quietly, brilliantly migrate into another. Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite is a film about class, desire, and the architecture of inequality that manages to be darkly funny, deeply suspenseful, and genuinely shocking across a single extraordinary running time. Your instinct is for cinema that hides its true intentions until the moment it’s ready to reveal them. Parasite is exactly that — a film that rewards close attention and punishes assumptions, right up to its devastating final image.
Everything Everywhere All at Once
You want it all — and this film gives you all of it. The Daniels’ Everything Everywhere All at Once is one of the most maximalist films ever made: action comedy, multiverse sci-fi, family drama, existential crisis, and a genuinely earned emotional core that sneaks up on you amid the chaos. You are someone who responds to ambition, who doesn’t want cinema to choose between being entertaining and being meaningful. This film refuses that choice entirely. It is overwhelming by design, and its overwhelming nature is precisely the point — because the feeling of being crushed by infinite possibility is exactly what it’s about.
Oppenheimer
You are drawn to cinema on a grand scale — films that understand history not as a backdrop but as a force, and that place their characters inside that force and watch what happens. Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer is a film about the terrifying gap between what we can do and what we should do, told with the full weight of one of the most consequential moments in human history behind it. You want your films to feel important without feeling self-important — to earn their ambition through sheer craft and the gravity of their subject. Oppenheimer does exactly that. It is enormous, complicated, and refuses easy comfort.
Birdman
You are drawn to films that foreground their own construction — that make the how of the filmmaking part of the what it’s about. Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Birdman, shot to appear as a single continuous take, is cinema examining itself through the cracked mirror of a fading actor’s ego. You respond to formal daring, to the feeling that a film is doing something that probably shouldn’t be possible. Michael Keaton’s performance and Emmanuel Lubezki’s restless camera create something genuinely unlike anything else — a film that is simultaneously about creativity, relevance, self-destruction, and the impossibility of ever truly knowing if your work means anything at all.
No Country for Old Men
You are drawn to cinema that trusts silence, that refuses to explain itself, and that treats dread as a form of meaning. The Coen Brothers’ No Country for Old Men is a film about the arrival of a new kind of evil — implacable, arbitrary, and utterly indifferent to the moral frameworks we use to make sense of the world. It is one of the most formally controlled films ever made, and its controlled restraint is what makes it so terrifying. You want your films to haunt you, not comfort you. You are not interested in resolution if resolution would be dishonest. No Country for Old Men is honest in a way that most cinema never dares to be.