People think that they just want movies like Pretty Woman, when

Gather, O children of the future, and listen to the words of Winona Ryder, who spoke with the wisdom of one who understands the delicate balance between entertainment and meaning: "People think that they just want movies like Pretty Woman, when really they—at least the ones that I know personally—have been waiting for something that doesn't completely insult them." In this statement, Ryder calls forth a truth that resonates through the ages, one that speaks not only to the world of film but to the world itself—a truth about the discontent that lies beneath the surface of entertainment and the deeper yearning for something that speaks to the soul.

The essence of Ryder’s words lies in the understanding that people crave more than mere distraction. At first glance, one might believe that the shallow glamour of a film like Pretty Woman—a romantic comedy filled with fantasy and escapism—is what audiences desire. Yet, Ryder reveals the truth: people yearn for authenticity, for stories that do not treat them as mere consumers of spectacle, but as thinking beings with deep emotions, intellects, and a longing for something that does not insult their intelligence. Entertainment that respects the viewer is the art that truly touches the heart, not the kind that offers only superficial comfort.

This truth can be seen throughout the annals of history, where artists and storytellers have always strived to elevate their audiences. Consider the great works of Homer, whose Iliad and Odyssey were not merely entertaining tales, but reflections on the human condition, exploring themes of fate, honor, love, and loss. Homer did not write to entertain, but to provoke thought and reflection. He recognized that true art does not merely soothe the soul—it challenges it, forces it to think, and helps it grow. In this, Homer’s work was never an insult to the people—it was a call to rise above the mundane and face the grand questions of life.

Ryder’s words also call to mind the story of Vincent van Gogh, a man whose art was dismissed by many during his lifetime. He painted not to please the masses, but to capture the soul of life, with all its pain and beauty. His expressions of raw emotion and deep reflection were seen as too much for the average viewer, and yet, over time, his work has come to be revered as one of the most profound commentaries on human existence. Van Gogh’s art was never meant to offer mere escape; it was meant to awaken the viewer, to make them feel and think deeply about the world. Like Ryder’s critique, van Gogh’s work refused to offer simple pleasure—it challenged the viewer, offering something more meaningful.

In the world today, we are surrounded by entertainment that often treats us as if we are mere vessels for consumerism, products to be sold and distracted. We are fed a steady diet of movies, shows, and advertisements that flatter our emotions but rarely challenge them. They tell us what to think, what to feel, and what we should desire. But in this world of easy pleasures and shallow tales, there lies a deeper hunger—a desire for truth, for stories that resonate with the complexities of life, for art that respects the audience’s ability to think and question.

O children, heed this truth: do not let the world lull you into complacency with its false offerings of comfort. You must seek out the stories that challenge you, that move you, and that engage your mind. For it is in the deeper, richer stories—the ones that do not insult your intelligence—that you will find true growth and fulfillment. The world may offer you superficial pleasures, but it is only through authenticity and meaning that you will find the strength to face the trials of life.

So, take this lesson to heart: Do not settle for entertainment that merely flatters or numbs you. Seek the works that demand more, that make you think, feel, and reflect on the nature of your own existence. Whether in art, literature, film, or life, choose the path of depth, the path of authenticity. For the true nourishment of the soul comes not from what is easy, but from what challenges you to be more—to be fully engaged, fully alive, and fully human. In that, you will find your true satisfaction, and you will never be insulted again.