The movie industry often comes under attack from a wide range of critics — everyone from journalists to politicians to upset mothers.

They argue there is far too much violence in films today — and there is.

They argue that this increased violence, in conjunction with the countless murders seen daily on cable television, only further desensitizes the youth of America to violence — and it does.

They point out the influence some movies can have over those who view them — and it certainly does appear they can tremendously influence some people.

They point to movies like “The Program,” where a specific scene was later attempted by viewers with fatal consequences.

They point to “Natural Born Killers,” a movie that has been cited time and again by critics as a possible motivation for a number of killers.

But isn’t something being missed? Aren’t all these critics, whose motivations often differ dramatically, overlooking one other grave danger that movies pose?

The abundance of everything-works-out-in-the-end movies.

I must sheepishly admit that I recently saw one such movie, “Sweet Home Alabama.” (I’ll pause here while all the male readers ridicule me for undoubtedly being less than a man.)

It was Thanksgiving break, we had already exhausted the seemingly limitless entertainment options that the massive metropolis of Dubuque can offer, and it was my best friend’s birthday. She wanted to see the movie, so a group of us went.

And I endured two-plus hours of a storyline that worked out all too conveniently in the end. The girl rediscovered her first true love just minutes before wrongly marrying another man who she, apparently, did not love, and the happy couple lived happily ever after.

Do these kinds of movies not seem profoundly dangerous to anyone else?

There is far too much random joy in the movies.

In life, everyone has those moments of pure bliss, those instances when you escape all that has been holding you down and just experience unabashed happiness. Maybe at your wedding. Or the birth of your first child — or second, or third. Perhaps your “first time.” Or following a heart-to-heart talk with your dad.

There are undoubtedly millions of ways this feeling can sweep over people. But it is not a constant. For most people, these are the anomalies.

Few people get sheer joy out of their day-to-day activities, like their job — whether they are an accountant or a teacher or a garbage collector. It’s repetitive, it’s ordinary, and it’s not amazing. But this fact is lost in many movies.

There may be a brief period of non-bliss time, but ultimately, the girl finds the guy, the parents reconnect with their children, or the hostages are rescued. And eternal nirvana begins.

So, what happens to the unfortunate souls who believe these movies?

What happens to the guy who pours his heart into a love letter to the lady he is chasing and she just laughs in his face?

Or the couples that meet, fall in love, marry after only a week, and then find out they have absolutely nothing in common?

They are left unprotected. They do not realize that, unfortunately, life does not always work out as planned. They don’t know that they may be shunned, embarrassed, humiliated, or tossed to the side because life does not always follow the cheesy movie script.

They spend their whole lives chasing after the fantasy life, where everything just falls into place and where struggles and brief setbacks never make it to the final cut.

One may think he has the storybook marriage, but then the couple hits a brief rough patch, and he’s out the door.

Maybe these movies are the reason the divorce rate is so embarrassingly high in this country. Couples do not expect to have to work to stay together. Their union is supposed to be smooth sailing, just like their favorite script.

So, where are the calls for reform in the movie industry? Where are the demands that at least some movies with the realism of failure be included?

I will not stand for this dangerous habit to continue. I will just have to make a movie myself.

The man and the woman will meet each other through surprising circumstances. (They both work in the circus.) Despite their differing backgrounds (he’s a clown and she’s the bearded lady), they talk and decide to date.

Their first amazing date is coming to an end, he’s walking her to her trailer, and when they share their first magical kiss, it isn’t so magical. The beard hurts his face, and his lips taste like makeup.

They part, both unsatisfied and disappointed.

THE END.

A little realism could go a long way.

Dustin Kass

is a junior in journalism

and mass communication from Dubuque.