I'm a big movie fan, and I want to make movies in every genre. I

The words of James Wan—“I’m a big movie fan, and I want to make movies in every genre. I want to make my romantic comedy one day.”—are not merely the musings of a director, but the testament of a soul who understands the boundless nature of art. In this utterance, he unveils the heart of a creator: one who does not wish to be confined to the narrow lanes of repetition, but who dares to walk every road, from the shadowed forests of horror to the bright gardens of laughter and love. His voice echoes the eternal call of the human spirit to explore, to taste every flavor, and to live in fullness.

The meaning within this quote lies in the hunger for wholeness. Wan speaks as one who has already mastered the world of dread and fear, for his name is synonymous with modern horror. Yet, he does not rest upon that throne. Instead, he yearns for balance, for the romantic comedy, gentle and playful, is the opposite of the abyss he has so often portrayed. This longing shows that the true artist does not seek only mastery, but harmony. For just as the seasons shift—winter to spring, night to dawn—so too must the artist’s journey embrace every season of the heart.

Consider, dear listener, the tale of Leonardo da Vinci. Was he only a painter? No, for his hand stretched into engineering, anatomy, architecture, and philosophy. To him, the world was a vast ocean, and he a vessel determined to sail every current. He did not limit himself to the Mona Lisa, nor confine his genius to a single discipline. Likewise, Wan’s words remind us that creation must not be bound; to create in many genres is to live like Leonardo, tasting the whole fruit of human experience rather than savoring only one slice.

This yearning also reveals a truth of courage. Many who achieve success in one realm grow afraid to step into another, lest they stumble and lose the crown they wear. Yet Wan speaks without fear, admitting a dream that may surprise his followers. This is a lesson: that greatness lies not in remaining where others applaud, but in daring to walk into new arenas where uncertainty awaits. The warrior who once conquered with the sword may one day learn to heal with the hand. And in both, his strength is revealed.

The story of Akira Kurosawa, the great Japanese master, further shines light here. Known for his epic samurai tales, he did not shy away from making tender films about teachers, doctors, and even lighthearted dreams. His legacy endures because he painted humanity in all its colors. Had he confined himself only to blades and battles, the world would have lost the gentleness of Ikiru. Thus, Wan’s desire to craft a romantic comedy is not folly, but the very breath of wisdom, for he sees that laughter is as vital as terror, and love as enduring as fear.

The lesson for us is clear: do not confine your gifts. If you are skilled in one craft, seek another. If your hands know logic, let them also try beauty. If you walk the road of strength, dare also to walk the path of tenderness. For to embrace many genres of life is to live more fully, and to reveal the divine spark of versatility that lies in all humankind.

In practice, let each person ask themselves: Where have I become narrow? Where do I cling to mastery and fear the beginner’s step? Then, as Wan teaches through his dream, take a single step into the unknown. Enroll in that class you have long delayed, write the poem though you are an engineer, paint though you are a merchant, dance though you are a scholar. For life, like cinema, is vast, and its genres are infinite. To dwell in only one is to live half-awake. To dare them all is to live wide-eyed, like the ancients who sought to know the whole world.

Thus, let the quote stand as a torch for those who come after: be not only the master of one tale, but the seeker of every story. In the romance, find joy. In the comedy, find healing. In the horror, find strength. And in the journey through them all, discover yourself anew.