
Kiribé Editor
July 5, 2026
2 min read
The film industry's inflation of runtime is not neutral — it is an economic and aesthetic pattern that deserves resistance.
The three-hour prestige film has been so normalised in the last five years that it is easy to forget how recent an invention it is. The average American drama in the 1990s ran roughly one hundred and fifteen minutes; the average one in the 2020s runs closer to one hundred and forty-five. That thirty-minute inflation is not artistically neutral, and the industry that presides over it should be honest that runtime creep is a specific pattern with specific consequences for craft.
Length is a form of discipline. A film that has to close in one hundred and ten minutes is a film that has to choose what to cut, which is the central act of dramatic craft. The three-hour film often refuses to make that choice. It preserves the auteur's preferences, indulges the star's screen time, and postpones the emotional resolution past the point where the audience's attention can hold. The result is not more art. It is often less.
The economic case for length is real: streamers pay for hours; awards juries reward scale; a three-hour prestige drama has a different marketing profile than a two-hour one. All of that is true. But the aesthetic case is thinner than the industry admits. Killers of the Flower Moon is a great film that would still be a great film at two hours and thirty-five minutes. Oppenheimer probably needs its runtime. Napoleon does not. The distinction between necessary length and self-indulgent length is one the industry has stopped enforcing.
The counter case is that the audience wants the runtime — that the three-hour epic is a distinguishing feature of the theatrical experience in a streaming era, and that shorter films are perceived as smaller. There is something to this. But the box office data is mixed, and the highest-performing prestige dramas of the last three years have not been the longest ones. The audience is willing to sit for three hours when the film earns it, and unwilling when it doesn't. That is a directorial responsibility, not a marketing decision.
The two-hour movie is a moral choice in the specific sense that it requires the filmmaker to accept the limits of the audience's time and attention and to earn every minute against that constraint. It is a discipline the industry has been quietly abandoning. The best filmmakers of the next generation will be the ones who reject the runtime inflation and rebuild the practice of the tight, argumentative, formally rigorous two-hour drama. That is the film culture worth defending.
Share
Kiribé Editor
Editorial Desk
Published by the Kiribé editorial desk, covering culture, cinema, and the intersection of art and society across the African continent and beyond.
Read next

On the death of the trailer
The two-minute trailer has been quietly deteriorating for a decade — and its collapse is a symptom of a wider marketing problem.

The comeback of the two-hour drama
After a decade of three-hour epics and hundred-minute streamers, the two-hour drama is quietly returning as the industry sweet spot.
Join the Conversation
Stay Ahead of the Story
Subscribe to Kiribé for premium entertainment journalism, exclusive interviews, and cultural commentary delivered weekly.