In today’s world of filmmaking, it seems like every director and studio exec has caught a case of sequel fever, making franchise movies the multiplex’s prime suspect. It’s a bit like Hollywood has become that friend who tells the same story over and over again but gets paid a fortune to do so. Peeking at history through cinema goggles, our esteemed critic saw fit to dust off some classic firsts in these beloved—or belabored—franchises, giving us a dose of the good, bad, and downright hilariously overrated.

First on the docket is “Star Wars: A New Hope,” the behemoth that launched a billion-dollar empire from a galaxy far, far away. While it has become the sacred scroll among its cultish followers, some audaciously claim this film is a tad overrated. Sure, it has the stiffest acting this side of the droids and writing chock-full of corny goodness, but maybe that was the point. People didn’t flock to see it for Shakespearean dialogue; they craved heroism, nobility, and perhaps a hint of the divine—in spaceships! And Harrison Ford, of course. Giving it a B might seem blasphemous to some, but hey, honesty is the best policy, especially when it comes masked as a stormtrooper.

Then there’s the cool, cold killer James Bond in “Dr. No,” who showed up wearing his license to kill like a cocktail tux. Sean Connery defined the dapper spy that could shoot as well as he could charm, setting the stage for decades of suave and sometimes silly exploits. Our critic suggests the Bond films may have fizzled a bit after the shimmering sheen of the Connery era, until Daniel Craig’s reboot reminded everyone why British spies are cooler than the other side of the pillow. Let’s call it a saga of shaken-not-stirred prowess.

Indiana Jones, with his iconic hat and fear of snakes, dove onto the scene in “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” arguably the greatest adventure film ever whipped together. Spielberg’s reluctance for reckless violence let Deus Ex Machina deal with the villains, but who’s complaining when the ride is this exhilarating? The series might have stumbled after the sequels, but the original’s imaginative escapades remain untarnished treasures in cinema’s chamber of goodies.

And who could forget “Jaws,” the original shark tale that gnawed its way into public psyche and swimming pools everywhere? It wasn’t just a thriller; it was the ultimate argument for why landlubbing isn’t so bad after all. Spielberg again proved his knack for turning a simple fin into the stuff of nightmares—all anchored by characters as real as the soggy popcorn left behind by fleeing audiences.

Finally, let’s not leave out “The Terminator,” with Schwarzenegger’s robotic monotone line delivery offering much more than ominous threats. This inaugural film in its franchise is a standout, balancing the brash with an unexpectedly compelling narrative about maternal strength. Its sequels might have muscled up and lost some charm under weighty feminist iconography, but the original—a true creative juggernaut—approaches something close to science fiction nirvana.

In the grand scheme of things, cinema franchises can be a curious conundrum. They embody both the pinnacle of storytelling genius and the laziness of relying on past laurels, proving that original inspiration can sometimes carry even the most redundant sequels into realms of profitability. So, should franchises be banished with the dinosaurs or treasured like ancient relics? Maybe the answer lies somewhere in between, tucked away perhaps in a whip’s end or a shark’s tooth. And if all else falters, well, there’s always another sequel too many to bank on Hollywood’s endless quest for the next blockbuster repeat.