Death to "the big light": Our current concept of "good" lighting needs a whole lot of illumination

Without fail, every time I step into an elevator, I am immediately consumed by two dark thoughts. The first intrusive idea that pops into my head is thinking that the machine's cables are going to break and I’m going to plummet to my untimely death, the second is the fear that the last time anyone will ever see me will be under atrocious overhead lighting. I can envision it so clearly: My friends and family are presented with the elevator’s security footage — I pray that I meet my demise in someplace that’s at least classy enough to have a working elevator camera — and see me standing there, washed out under fluorescents. “Are you sure that’s him?” they’ll ask. I don’t remember him with such deeply set undereye circles and massive pores. He always had so much joie de vivre, and you’re telling us that this man, who has clearly been so beaten to a pulp by life’s cruelties that it wears on his entire face, is our Coleman?”

It’s a monologue so incessant that it has kept my thighs in great shape by convincing me to take the stairs whenever possible, but lately, I’ve been trying to trace this loathing for terrible overhead lighting back to its source. When I think about it, I’m blinded by memories of “the big light,” the dreaded overhead fixture in our family’s computer room that I sat under for hours, rotting away playing Neopets on a hefty desktop PC. That light droned down on me for years as I moved from computer games to MySpace, illuminating whatever sins I was committing as a guinea pig in the days of early social media. If I were to undergo EMDR therapy, I’m sure that all my mind would conjure would be images of an atrocious light fixture that looks like one single boob hanging from the ceiling.

Regrettably, I’m seeing a whole lot of ceiling boobs these days. For a while, the content creator boom on social media meant that everyone from amateur videographers to bonafide influencers would be bathed in flattering lighting in the form of a ring light. Somewhere along the way, for whatever reason, the ring light seems to have dropped off the face of the earth. (Maybe a large shipment was lost in that Suez Canal blockage a few years back?) In its place is a terrifying regression to glaring, profoundly unflattering overhead lighting, often from a single source. Scroll through TikTok for one minute and you’ll surely find some creator clocking in at the Content Mines to record a video of them whipping up a recipe or dressing themselves for a get-ready-with-me under the most unforgiving overhead lighting you can imagine. As someone who has spent a fair chunk of their adult life being probably too concerned with the proper lighting for every occasion, I can’t stand to see this backslide go any further. So, please, allow me but a moment of your time to illuminate the benefits of never, ever using your home’s overhead lights.

If lighting is something you’ve never found yourself thinking about so intensely, congratulations: You’re already functioning at a more productive level than I am. But oh God, what your selfies must look like! Photographers and researchers have raved about both the aesthetic and physical benefits of natural light, and you’ll never look better in a photo than when you’re standing in front of a tall window, letting the sweet light of day softly caress your skin. This is nature’s front-facing lighting source, perfect for all of your content needs. Once you put your phone down — which you should — the Vitamin D helps too, and you won’t get that by flicking on the wall switch that came with your home’s design. That is unless you’ve specifically chosen a home with recessed lighting and a plethora of sconces, which I did the moment I could afford a New York apartment that didn’t look like photographs which would be deemed “too grisly” for a true crime doc.

And yet, despite all of the decent built-in lighting, one of the first things you’ll see when you enter my home is a lamp on the foyer table. Yes, the foyer table, and I’ll call it the foyer table because living elegantly starts from within. A quick tally reveals a total of seven lamps in my humble two-bedroom abode, nine if you count the two Christmas trees that have yet to be taken down. That might sound like overkill for a relatively small space, but each lamp has its specific purpose, and I fear that this is what people forget when they rely on wired overhead light fixtures. Lighting should not be all-purpose! Just like you should not use 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner and body wash, you should not use the same light for everything you’re doing in your home. 

Though TikTok has ostensibly become the world’s go-to educational platform, it’s not where you’ll find completely accurate information. I try my best to steer clear of the platform entirely for that reason. But now and again, I come across a video that suggests you can achieve “ultimate cozy bathtime vibes” with your bathroom’s overhead light humming above you while trying to enjoy the Enya Essentials playlist. In what world do you light a candle for a relaxing bathing experience and then keep the lights on too? You’re supposed to watch it flicker in the dark! It’s how we remind ourselves of life’s fleeting beauty. Elton John has a whole song about it. “Candle in the Wind” isn’t just about tragically deceased blonde beauties, it’s about the importance of appropriate lighting.

As both a professional critic and lifelong film lover, I’m especially intent on spreading the gospel of good living room lighting. Whenever possible, you should watch movies and television at home on a television, and not your computer. (I’m afraid that anyone content with watching a movie on their phone is already too far gone.) But to fully experience a film how it’s intended to be seen, it’s important to darken your lighting as much as possible. All the lights are shut off when I watch a movie at home, except for one lamp in my bedroom, which seeps a soft glow into the living room to give the illusion of dimmed movie theater lighting. I can accept a warm lamp being turned on within the room where the film is playing on a case-by-case basis, but it’s not my first choice. When watching television shows, a nice, gentle bit of recessed lighting is great. One TikTok trend I will begrudgingly support is putting a soft yellow light behind a television to give it a halo effect, but only for television shows, and preferably scripted ones. I’m less precious about reality television programming, as a louder lighting scheme often matches the general decibel of those shows and the gaudiness of their horrific production lights. “Real Housewives” isn’t exactly concerned with the minute details you might lose with the glare of harsher light, but make sure it’s a lamp regardless.

Perhaps if we exalt good lighting for watching media in our homes, word will get back to Hollywood. One of my favorite memes is a plain bit of text over a pink background that says, “Men in LA…get off your phones and STOP becoming influencers…we need gaffers! These shows dark as hell, I can’t see S**T!” And my God is that the truth. If you’ve ever tried to watch something made after 2015 in the comfort of your own home under bright lighting, you’ve probably found yourself squinting at the screen, trying to see what’s going on amid the glare. “Wicked” notably suffered from this during scenes that featured Cynthia Erivo’s Elphaba in low, blue lighting, causing her green skin to blend in with the background. Other times, the film was just unforgivably backlit, with the “Dancing Through Life” scene being one of the most egregiously lit musical numbers in recent memory. But what’s strange and fun about lighting is that what works for a selfie doesn’t necessarily work to make an actor look their best. Director Jon M. Chu aimed for natural lighting in those aforementioned scenes, but there are plenty of ways to make natural lighting look nice on-camera without losing realism. In the case of “Dancing Through Life,” the heinous backlighting detracted from the majesty of the film’s practical set pieces in the same scene. 

Happily, there is one person who is both active on social media and within the entertainment industry to look to as a beacon while studying the science of good lighting. Mariah Carey has long been a vocal critic of terrible lighting. Last October, she spoke of being “tortured” by bad lighting on the “Las Culturistas” podcast. Earlier this month, a viral X post saw a 2002 clip of Carey on Japanese television, being led through a hallway lit by fluorescents, shielding her face while walking hand-in-hand with Hello Kitty. Part of the reason why Carey was so notably unrecognizable in her role in Lee Daniels’ “Precious” was because Daniels threw her into garish office lighting. “Lee, come on, the overhead lighting was not my friend,” she said during an interview with “Rolling Stone” in 2009. 

Now, Mimi’s social media is curated with such precision that you will never see her in lighting that does not favor her. The last time I can remember spotting Carey illuminated by anything that could be considered “bad” light would be a random Instagram story she posted on July 16, 2018 (according to the screenshot in my camera roll) where she waves to the camera in a video captioned simply: “Rancid elevator lighting.” Carey is known for her lyrical prose, but I find that even a poetic songwriting masterclass like “The Roof” pales when compared to her off-the-cuff remarks like that unforgettable story. She undoubtedly has a thesaurus earmarked and highlighted like a high school student’s SparkNotes copy of “Macbeth.” 

Now that I mention it, my specific aversion to elevator lighting stems directly from this. I have not entered an elevator in the last eight years without thinking of the words “rancid elevator lighting." It’s just one of the countless lessons I have learned from Professor Carey through the years, but it may be the most important one. While caring so much about lighting can seem frivolous and silly, it’s really just a small way to exercise a sense of control and luxury within your life. Prioritizing good lighting forces us to rethink how content we’ve become with the concept of “good enough.” In a time when political party heads and powerful billionaires would like us to accept the bare minimum quality of life, a little personal opulence is a tiny way to counteract a settling mindset. Overhead lighting is there because it’s functional, not favorable, and it’s time to stop accepting anything less than the paragon of lighting excellence. Your eyes will thank you, and so will anybody who steps foot in your home.