Are Weddings Becoming Too Cinematic?

Are Weddings Becoming Too Cinematic?

It’s a strange thing to say as someone who’s a wedding photographer, but lately I’ve been wondering if we’ve gone too far.

In our pursuit of art, drama, and beauty, are we unintentionally pulling couples away from the truth of their day?

As the years have rolled by, I’ve noticed something. Weddings, once rooted in messy, beautiful, unpredictable emotion, are beginning to look like polished scenes from a film. Visually perfect. Carefully choreographed. High impact, Yes. But yet… sometimes lacking the emotional weight that makes those moments matter and yes, not every frame needs to carry emotion, but perhaps in a World of curation, this is all we’re led to see and believe.

This isn’t a critique of creativity. It’s a quiet concern about what we might be losing in the process.

Because real moments are slowly being replaced with re-enactments.

Instead of documenting what actually happened, many photographers and videographers are now directing scenes to create more “aesthetic” outcomes. The walk into golden hour. The slow reach for the champagne glass. The prolonged eye contact that didn’t quite happen naturally, but looks stunning in 4K and YES, I’ve done all of this!

And while there’s nothing inherently wrong with beautiful visuals, we have to ask: At what cost?

When we start prioritising mood over memory, we risk shifting the story entirely.
Cinematic editing often brings in rich tones, slow-motion movement, and stylised storytelling. It’s designed to evoke a feeling. But sometimes, in crafting the “perfect” mood, the actual energy of the couple, their real personalities, their quirks, their in-the-moment emotions, can get lost in translation.

What we’re left with is a vibe, but not necessarily a memory.

The couple begins to feel more like actors in their own wedding. Barely recognising themselves, not because of photoshop, but because there’s just no “them” present.

There’s a subtle but significant shift when people begin performing for the lens, not because they’re asked to, but because the atmosphere calls for it. Stylised scenes, constant direction, and a pressure to “make it cinematic” can leave couples more aware of how things look than how things feel.

”Make sure you photograph my good side” - A line I often hear at most weddings, be that from the couple or a guest. But truly, what is your good side? - Forget the physical element for a second. We’re human, we feel every emotion, we should, we shouldn’t shy away from this. “Ugly crying” should be recognised for what it is. The true power behind it. The meaning!

But the irony of performing? It often disconnects them from the very experience they’re trying to hold onto.

What looks good isn’t always what feels real.

Moody edits. Desaturated palettes. Epic framing. These things can be visually compelling, yes. But sometimes they can also mute what was truly there, the laughter that wasn’t perfectly framed, the awkwardness that was actually kind of endearing, the joy that didn’t fit the colour grade.

When every wedding begins to look like a slow-motion editorial, we run the risk of flattening the diversity of real love stories. Not everyone fits that mould and they shouldn't have to.

But many couples feel pressure to.

There’s an unspoken expectation now, thanks to social media, Pinterest boards, and viral content. One that shouts that your wedding needs to be “editorial.” That it should look expensive, dramatic, stylised. Even if that’s not you. And many couples, consciously or not, start shaping their day (and their photography/videography choices) around that aesthetic.

Because if it doesn’t look cinematic, does it still feel valuable?

Let me say this clearly: yes. It absolutely does.

You don’t need a drone shot or a muted colour grade to validate the depth of your love.
You don’t need to rehearse your connection. The rawness, the nerves, the softness, the weird dance moves, the moments that weren’t planned , they matter. They tell your story. Not a template.

So what do we do?

We approach with cinematic care, but emotional honesty.

There’s nothing wrong with using cinematic techniques to enhance a story. The problem only arises when they replace it. As photographers and filmmakers, we have a responsibility to stay anchored in the truth of the day. To elevate the experience, not override it.

To use our creativity in service of the couple’s story — not to impose our own.

Because the most powerful frame isn’t the most dramatic.

It’s the one that still feels like you, even decades from now. The one that brings you back not to how things looked, but how they felt. That reminds you who you were, what mattered, and what it felt like to live inside that moment, even if only for a split second..

That’s the real art.

And it doesn’t need a cinematic finish to be unforgettable.