Dakota Johnson is the most unfairly maligned actress in Hollywood

The Age

11-07-2025

We should ignore the mournful eulogies for the 'movie star.' As the cinematic titans of the '90s and 2000s shuffle off towards the Sunset Boulevard Retirement Village, Timothée Chalamet, Florence Pugh and Austin Butler have cemented their status as household names, box office drawcards and awards-show darlings.
But every generation of actors has a black sheep – the one whose talent is routinely debated, whose success baffles the masses, and whose occasional missteps obscure their accomplishments, their genius only recognised in hindsight. Gene Kelly, Tom Cruise, Demi Moore, and Colin Farrell all weathered excessive criticism before finding their rightful place in the pantheon. Dakota Johnson is this era's black sheep. While her contemporaries have been showered in praise, Johnson is misunderstood and maligned, the subject of mockery and meme fodder.
Her acting has been described as wooden, one-dimensional, and bland. Audiences have lambasted her for awkward line readings and detached onscreen appearances, lacking warmth and personality. She's 'won' two Golden Raspberry Awards for Worst Actress for Fifty Shades of Grey and Madame Web. Most notoriously, she became the poster child for online 'nepo baby' backlash (daughter of actors Don Johnson and Melanie Griffith). Her career is perceived as all family, no talent.
Dakota Johnson isn't a bad actor – she's great. But goodness, she needed a new agent yesterday. She is abysmal at choosing projects. Her acting reputation's become inseparable from her awful films.
Most people's introduction to Johnson was as the lead in the critically derided Fifty Shades of Grey. She was predictably swept up in the tsunami of bad reviews, although her performance was the only watchable part. In a movie that, despite its scandalous subject, manages to be both boring and bizarrely straitlaced, Johnston almost convinces you there's chemistry between her and the wooden plank that is Jamie Dornan. Just as it took Kristen Stewart a full decade to even begin washing away the cinematic stench of the Twilight films, the reputational damage from the Fifty Shades series still stubbornly lingers.
Johnson's been in some other stinkers (Wounds, Black Mass, How to Be Single). Yet even when saddled with cringey dialogue and a plot that openly defies logic, she consistently shows herself capable of single-handedly lifting the material with sheer charm, undeniable charisma, and an admirable commitment to the bit. Frankly, could anyone have saved the rampant garbage fire that was Madame Web?
Yet when Johnson does land a good script, competent co-stars, and a proper director, it is something to behold. Primarily because that allows Johnson to showcase her greatest strength as an actor: the delicate art of subtlety. Not one to chew scenery, the cocked eyebrow, the minuscule, knowing smile, or the perfectly timed pause of repressed emotion. Genuine responses, shielded vulnerability, perfect timing. In a good movie, it looks effortless. In a bad movie, it looks like no effort.
In Luca Guadagnino's 2018 remake of horror classic Suspiria, Johnson is perfect as our gateway to the desperate, claustrophobic world of balletic revulsion. She goes toe-to-toe with the great Tilda Swinton in arguably the best horror ensemble of the century. Johnson further held her own against Oscar-winning powerhouse Olivia Colman in the psychological drama The Lost Daughter, portraying a troubled mother teetering on the brink of mental collapse.