The discourse among fans and critics regarding the quality of any film or show is undoubtedly an important part of the overall experience, but it quickly becomes problematic when the criticisms start to negatively impact an audience's enjoyment. If anything is true about the vast world of media, it's that different types of stories respond differently to different types of people. Certain audiences tend to relate more to situations they identify with, or even subconsciously find enjoyment in specific aspects of the story that make it appealing to them. Whatever the cause, everyone has their own taste when it comes to any sort of film, television series, or even piece of literature, making comparisons between different pieces practically obsolete. If every story is received subjectively, how can anyone claim to really criticize it objectively?

The inherent issues with this kind of criticism reveal themselves even more clearly once you consider the vastly different types of media being produced every day. Oftentimes critics treat shows and movies as products designed by studios for the sole purpose of entertainment and therefore judge them by their perceived entertainment value. The problem lies therein, however, since plenty of series and films serve more as forms of artistic expression than as any sort of entertainment. These are the types of projects that often aim to make bold statements, and also the ones we'll see earn recognition during awards season. Artistic movies can be absurd in nature or painfully realistic, but practically all of them aim to make grand statements and have relatively small budgets (since studios typically choose not to invest large amounts in artistic endeavors).

With different fictional works functioning with completely different intentions, it's nearly impossible for critics to fairly judge them based on the same factors. A popcorn flick like "Transformers: The Last Knight" does what it sets out to do, entertain, though it certainly doesn't present any wildly new concepts or artistic ideas. On the other side of the spectrum, however, is a film like 2016's "Moonlight", which both presents a simple story with complex underlying themes and makes an equally complex statement about the nature of poverty and prejudice toward homosexuality.

The concept of fair criticism becomes even more muddled by the exceptions that bridge the gap between fun and fine art. My favorite example of this is the movie musical "La La Land", which features engaging musical numbers but also presents thought-provoking themes about an artist's struggle for recognition through the perspective of a flaring romance. The dilemma arises when considering its dual nature: should such a film be judged solely on its entertainment value, or should it simply be appreciated as a work of art?

The line between the two is extremely vague, and this idea rings true for plenty of films you would never expect to see bridging the gap. The aforementioned "Transformers" film, for instance, makes no bold statements with its cookie-cutter plotline and action setting. It does, however, push the limits of visual effects with each new installment and create mostly believable scenarios and characters out of pure computer generation. If you're still apprehensive about calling "Transformers" a piece of art, think about how it exemplifies the concept of movies to begin with. The purpose of a film is to use high-quality moving images to create an enjoyable experience for the audience, and while the "Transformers" franchise lacks any sort of depth or thematic undertones, it does succeed in its creation of visual imagery, especially considering how much work is put into every frame as if it were a legitimate painting.

Since the two categories of media have plenty of space for overlap, it might seem pointless even to recognize them as barriers to fair judgement. But the fact that critics and fans can't easily pick apart what is artistic expression and what is popcorn fare leads to plenty of unfair criticisms on both sides of the spectrum. Fun, lighthearted movies are frequently torn apart by critics because of their lack of emotional depth or bold statements, even though the films are admittedly entertaining (thus fulfilling their purpose). Similarly, 2017 saw the drama "Mother!" starring Jennifer Lawrence get panned by audiences who were either perplexed by the film's profound allegory or were disappointed that they didn't receive the entertaining horror film they were expecting.

Despite its complications, the film industry has always welcomed both artistic endeavors and lighthearted blockbusters into the cinematic realm. The two will likely continue to coexist, often through the films that offer the benefits from both sides. Especially in recent years, we've seen an influx of creative passion projects being thrust onto the big screen in the form of large-scale tentpole franchises. As a result, film discourse is at a confusing point in its history where these blockbusters are garnering appreciation almost to the extent of the low-budget independent art-films that have dominated the sphere of critical praise and awards buzz.

So the next time you catch a new flick in the theater, take a second to think about how it measures up in terms of entertainment and artistic value before you tweet about how much it sucked.