Taylor Swift Forgot the First Rule of Storytelling

Taylor Swift's The Life of a Showgirl dropped last week to massive commercial success and is already on its way to becoming the biggest album of all time.

Despite all this, the critical reception has been deeply divided.

While Rolling Stone awarded it a perfect five stars, other critics weren't as kind. The Guardian called it a "dull razzle-dazzle" that "floats in one ear and out the other," while Consequence noted the album gets "lost in its own metaphor" and is "only skin deep."

Across the critiques, many point out the same thing. And the album's central problem is one screenwriters know well.

When your protagonist is at the top, there's nowhere interesting for the story to go.

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The Need for Conflict

Variety's Chris Willman liked the album but identified the core issue, writing that where previous albums felt "hard-fought," this record feels too easy-breezy. And, he adds, TSwift "flourishes with adversaries," but here even the diss tracks are bright and cotton-candy thin.

The Standard echoed this sentiment, noting Swift "doesn't have much heartbreak grist for her creative mill" now that she's engaged and thriving, and instead she "complains about how hard it is being soooo rich."

The Telegraph wrote, "The Life of a Showgirl gives us romance and wit, but it lacks the drama of her earlier music."

Many references on the album pertain to settling down (and having sex, but we won't get into that), and that's all fine if a bit tedious. There are only a few instances where conflict is hinted at.

She takes a jab at Charli XCX in "Actually Romantic" and says she actually likes it when her friends are subject to the woke mob in "CANCELLED!"

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But as The Guardian notes, "eviscerating a rival when you're the world's most successful pop star is, by default, punching down."

Much of the other conflict on the album feels a bit manufactured in the TSwift "me vs. them" way. In "Wi$h Li$t," Swift sings about wanting a driveway with a basketball hoop and finding a best friend she thinks is hot—rather than the fun and fame others desire.

"Opalite" celebrates happiness with the right partner, with Swift explaining that the song is about how happiness can be created if you just choose it, rather than how it was in the past with other people. Easy!

(We know that every Swift song isn't a one-to-one metaphor for Swift the real person, but her track record of drawing from real life has already been established, and this is art, so art invites critique.)

Anyway. Here's the screenwriting problem we can point to—achieved happiness doesn't create dramatic tension.

Success Can Become the Enemy

The Telegraph brutally observed, "No one could begrudge her happiness, but Swift’s new album has all the bite, realism, and piercing psychological acuity of a Barbara Cartland fever dream."

When you're a billionaire at the top of global fame with a wedding on the horizon, what's left to struggle against? Swift tries to create conflict through diss tracks and industry commentary, but the vulnerability doesn't feel authentic.

Rolling Stone Philippines points out that in "Elizabeth Taylor," Swift asks what you could get for someone who has everything. She jokes about trading Cartier jewelry for trust, before adding, "Just kidding."

It's a parenthetical that undercuts any emotional stakes. Is the Swift of this song unhappy? Maybe not, because she can get whatever she wants.

As GetAlternative notes, her underdog status rings a bit hollow now. "Her career feels like an Animal Crossing save file with every achievement unlocked," they write.

Screenwriters face this challenge constantly when writing successful characters.

If your protagonist has already won, why should we keep watching?

The Takeaway for Writers

Authentic conflict drives compelling stories. This conflict can be as simple as wanting a thing and not being able to get it. It can be self-doubt. It can be about social injustice. There is plenty of drama to mine from life, even if you "have it all."

You can't fake stakes, and you can't make audiences care about problems that feel invented rather than organic.

Remember, as you're writing about a character or even telling your own story, audiences will want to go along for the climb. If you start a movie at the top of Mount Everest, we've missed the struggle already (or something interesting sure as heck better happen on the way down).

Think of a show like Succession. These characters, on the surface, should all be very happy. They're wealthy and could get almost anything they desire. But the sibling infighting over the company was complex enough to carry several seasons. They failed constantly. Each character had unique interpersonal drama, whether it was with a partner or a family member. They experienced ups and downs and made bad choices for themselves that got in their own way.

Great screenwriting needs vulnerability and real obstacles that challenge your characters in meaningful ways. Even in romances and feel-good stories, the path to happiness should feel earned through genuine conflict. The difference between singing about wanting a basketball hoop versus fighting for a relationship is vast. One is a story we want to follow.

Without conflict, you're left with a script and protagonist that no one wants to root for.

Lyricism (or great writing) is one thing. Are you actually saying anything and taking us on a journey?