A Big Week for Vertical Drama — But With Growth Comes Responsibility

This has been a seismic week for vertical drama. For the first time, I’ve managed to bring the format into the British mainstream media, with features on Radio 4 and The Guardian. That’s no small thing. For those of us who’ve been championing verticals over the past year—watching, reviewing, supporting creators—it’s incredibly exciting to see this space finally being taken seriously.

But with that spotlight comes responsibility.

It would be naive—perhaps even irresponsible—to pretend the vertical industry is flawless. Yes, it’s thrilling to see the format grow, to witness talented storytellers gaining recognition, and to celebrate the creativity this new medium unleashes. But as the audience widens and the stakes rise, we have to talk about the direction it’s heading in.

Not everything being made deserves applause. Some of it demands reflection.

This industry is still new, still evolving. Much of what we’re seeing is shaped by trends and storytelling traditions rooted elsewhere—especially in China, where vertical drama first boomed. There, the format developed a specific style, tone, and structure that doesn’t always land well with Western audiences. Cultural norms, gender dynamics, and viewer expectations differ—and yet, the same formulas are being applied. The result? Content that can sometimes feel jarring, uncomfortable, or even offensive to a broader global audience.

We’re in what I think of as the Wild West phase of vertical storytelling. The rules haven’t been written yet. It’s a space full of experimentation and energy—but also one that urgently needs thoughtful critique.

Violence & Voyeurism: The Problem with What’s Getting Made

The most troubling trend right now? The increase in graphic violence—especially violence against women. It’s become alarmingly common for vertical dramas to feature prolonged scenes of abuse, humiliation, and assault. Often, these scenes serve no narrative purpose. They’re not about exploring trauma or growth. They’re shock value, plain and simple.

Chained to My Prison Guard is one such example—a show that featured unprecedented violence and graphic sex, and yet received a unfortunate amount of publicity. It was a low point in what had otherwise been a promising year for verticals. Last year, Reelshort led the charge with smart, nuanced storytelling. This year, some of their releases feel like a step backwards.

Some recent releases—like Chained to My Prison Guard—have crossed a line. Excessive violence, especially against women, is being packaged and pushed as entertainment. And this isn’t just a slap here and there (though I’d argue we’re all tired of that too). It’s sustained, graphic violence, and often paired with graphic sex.

Campus romances—once a charming staple—are now veering into Carry On territory with added violence. What happened to whimsy? What happened to emotional stakes?

It makes you wonder—who is this for?

As one fan said to me:

"I don’t understand why in shows made for women they include so much violence against women. Why do they think we want to watch that?"

Verticals are rooted in escapism. Many of us turn to them when real life feels overwhelming. Why would we want to watch stories that echo the worst parts of reality?

Some argue it’s the industry just giving people what they want. But I don’t buy that. I’ve seen what resonates—what people actually respond to—and it’s not this.

The most commented-on scene in our Swoonworthy Award shortlist? No nudity. No violence. Just an emotionally raw, beautifully acted moment between two characters connecting. That’s the stuff that stays with you.

Let’s be clear: these stories affect people. The apps don’t have age restrictions. There are no content warnings. With the exception of Minishorts, which adds a small trigger warning in the corner when needed, most platforms are silent.

As viewers, we have more power than we think. The platforms will make more of what we watch. So we have to vote with our views. Watch the good stuff. Skip the bad. Follow reviewers who spotlight the gems—people like me, who are actively curating the content worth your time.

As one fan said:

"We read and watch romances because they make us feel good."

I hope that those in charge of commissioning vertical content don’t lose sight of this core truth.

The Issue with Toxic Masculinity

I will always champion a green flag male lead. Give me kindness. Give me emotional availability. Give me a man who doesn’t need to break someone to grow.

We’re seeing more of them, thankfully. But we’re also still flooded with stories that glorify toxic men. And often, these men are not just cold or distant—they’re cruel, manipulative, and violent. Worse, these behaviours are framed as romantic. Watching these shows can feel like watching a car crash. You stick around, hoping the female lead will finally stand up for herself. And then to your utter disbelief she doesn’t

Yes, you can have a complex male lead. But he should grow, or be left behind.

Thankfully we are seeing some improvements in 2025. One of the most satisfying moments I’ve seen in any vertical drama recently was in How I Became the CEO’s Darling, when Bill stands up to Thomas and calls out his appalling behaviour—while leading lady Emily walks away and builds a wonderful, positive relationship with Lyle instead. More of this, please!

Let’s Talk About Sex (or Rather, Let’s Talk About the Overuse of It)

Maybe I’m just English. I was raised on Austen, where a brush of the hand could speak volumes. I don’t mind a shirtless shower moment now and then (who does?), but what I really want are characters with emotional depth. Kindness. Respect. Growth.

And this year has delivered some truly beautiful verticals—you’ll find them in my reviews. But it’s also brought an onslaught of content that relies heavily on sex, violence, and degradation to draw in viewers.

I understand that some of this influence is coming from BookTok, where "spice" is very much in. And while reading about it is one thing, translating that content to screen—complete with actors, directors, lighting, editing, and a whole production team—is something else entirely. Thankfully, most vertical platforms now use intimacy coordinators, but even with that safeguard, there’s still a line. And increasingly, I’m seeing it crossed.

The issue isn’t just the presence of sex—it’s the type of sex we’re seeing. Often graphic, aggressive, and emotionally disconnected. Sometimes tangled up with troubling power dynamics.

As one fan put it:

"Is it nice to see a shirt come off? Sure. But do we need men who understand us, comfort us, show emotional maturity? ABSO-FRIGGING-LUTELY."

We’ve already got more than enough content out there reducing women to objects. Verticals don’t need to follow suit.

There’s a disturbing trend in the way some of these shows are marketed too. If a poster features a woman in a collar and chains, that’s a clear “no thanks” from me. But not all the signs are so obvious. Some have candy-colored posters and breezy titles—and you only realize how dark the content is once it’s too late.

I honestly can't believe I’m having to say this, but here it is: consent is sexy. Emotional connection is sexy. Respect is sexy.

I hope we start to see less of this aggressive trend and more of the content that shows real connection—and reminds us why we fell in love with stories in the first place.

Diverse Casting: Room for Growth

Representation in verticals has a long way to go. Right now, I can count on two hands the number of verticals with non-Caucasian leads. And when actors of color do appear, they’re often cast in secondary or stereotyped roles—security guards, thugs, or comedic sidekicks.

And yet, the audience for verticals is global. The voting in recent fan awards proves it. If it’s a good love story, I’ll watch. I don’t care what the leads look like. I care about the connection between them.

We are a global audience. The stories we tell—and the people we cast—should reflect that. Yet, we still see far too few verticals with non-white leads.

We can and must do better. This industry has an opportunity to lead with inclusive, representative casting. But that means moving beyond tokenism. As one fan said:

"Use actors of all races, shapes, and sizes—but don’t center the story around it. Just make them the leads."

XXL Dramas and the Body Image Problem

Another area of concern: the rise of slimming and XXL wife dramas. These shows are often presented as romantic comedies but carry deeply harmful messages. The underlying theme? You are only worthy of love if you change your body.

As someone with friends who have experienced eating disorders, I find this messaging dangerous. I know others do too. One viewer wrote:

"I felt insulted from the start. This is anti-body positivity. After that, I've avoided them."

Another shared:

"Keily on Galatea was different. It didn’t end with a makeover. The male lead loved her exactly as she was. That felt revolutionary."

We are worth loving exactly as we are. That message is not just powerful—it’s necessary.

Final Thoughts: A Call to Action

We’re Not Just Watching—We’re Voting

Here’s the hard truth: the apps follow the money. If we want to see better stories, we have to reward them. That means watching, sharing, and shouting about the shows that get it right—and avoiding the ones that don’t.

It’s easy to be dismissive of verticals, especially when some of what’s trending is… well, awful. But doing so is a disservice to the many brilliant actors, writers, and directors working incredibly hard to create something meaningful. And thankfully, more and more creatives are stepping into writing and production roles to shape the kind of content we do want to see.

As one industry insider said:

"I've had to fight to insert moments of consent into toxic scripts. I want to see things move in a direction with less harm to the characters and the performers. That in turn allows viewers to watch performances that reflect more empathy, humanity, and care."

That’s what I want too.

We all have different tastes. And I’m not here to shame anyone for what they enjoy. But if we want verticals to become a respected art form—if we want this industry to grow into something sustainable and meaningful—then we need to have these conversations.

This is a pivotal moment. More actors, writers, and creatives are stepping up, taking control of the stories being told. That gives me hope.

I will continue to use my platform to shine a light on the verticals that deserve your time—the ones that lift you up, entertain, and make us feel good. You’ll find them all on this site. I won’t waste time reviewing shows that I believe are toxic. I’ve got two teenage daughters I want to be proud of me—and I need to be able to look them in the eye and say I tried to make things a little better.

Let’s make verticals something we’re proud to share. Let’s tell stories that make us feel stronger, not smaller. That leave us feeling seen, not silenced. That help us escape—and remind us of what we deserve.

To the creatives: keep fighting the good fight. We see you.

To the fans: your voice matters.

And to all the green flag male leads out there: keep showing up. We need more of you.

Jen