There were very few Hollywood movies this summer with this kind of imagination building and sense of play. Instead too many of them offered only howling towers of Armageddon, where humans could do little more than cower in front of them, numb with horror and helplessness. If they were lucky, the chosen few might swoop in to save them, but not before some chin stroking ruminations on why the whole thing was worth it in the first place. There is no place anymore for scenes like in Sam Raimi’s “Spider-Man 2,” where Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire), after saving a train car full of passengers, is in turn saved by them when the strain proves too much. It’s a kind, humane scene in a blockbuster that understands that warm colors and letting shots breath does not have to mean forgoing thrilling action or large-scale adventure. “Spider-Man 2” is only 12 years old, but at this point it feels more like 30.

Part of Hollywood’s current decay was unavoidable. As a monoculture splintered permanently into niche groups, the idea of a film everybody sees and everybody can’t stop talking about fades further into the cultural past. The rise of cable networks willing to spend serious money on shows like “Game of Thrones” further dents Hollywood's ability to be the main supplier of big stories. But changing trends only excuse so far. Hollywood did itself no favors by making the mid-budget film virtually extinct, requiring themselves to lean on a business model where a single film must hit a billion dollars to be considered a success. If audiences can’t get enough of shows like “Stranger Things” or “Outlander” you are not going to win them back with offerings like “The Legend of Tarzan” or “Ghostbusters."

And when an old master of blockbusters like Steven Spielberg makes a magical, heartfelt film like “The BFG” that’s greeted with an indifferent shrug it creates even less incentive to try. The lack of a new Spielberg or John Carpenter is sorely felt this summer too. Paul Feig seems to be a nice person who admirably defended his cast from vile sexist pushback, but he cannot direct an action scene to save his life, as seen in the third act of “Ghostbusters.” But really, blockbusters aren’t directed so much as they are stage-managed now. The continued shut-out of women and POC directors almost becomes understandable when you see that studios are not looking for directors, they’re looking for someone who will meet a release date that’s been picked out months or years in advance. It does not matter what they deliver on the deadline, they’ll dump it in the editing room and sort it out into something almost watchable. The idea that scripts need multiple drafts or that projects might need to germinate for a year or two is as foreign now as silent movies.