I’m a fool for Big Screen movies. No hand-held device, no TV, no laptop will ever be able to deliver that tangible, chewable breathtaking immersion in another reality that movies seen in a theater can do.
Before you think “oh how yesterday,” consider the obvious. Movies in a darkened theater force your full attention onto that screen and into the action, into the lives, fortunes, and dangers of characters who come to life — larger-than-life! — for two hours.
The darkness places us in a magical space, a space without distraction (yes Millenials, it’s possible). Hence everything we see is intensified. The visual impact of huge figures, explosions, long, burning kisses, it not only a feast for the eyes, but an orgy for our bodies. Film is a physical experience, delivering through our bodies the sense that we have actually been somewhere new, different, exotic that looking at a photograph or even watching a play simply cannot emulate.
So why is that an image of Matt Damon at the top of this post? Because I have been thinking about Jason Bourne for a few weeks now. The fifth installment of Robert Ludlum’s anguished, buffed, amnesia-driven CIA operative continues to pack a wallop. (Full disclosure: I have no problem watching buffed men fighting other buffed men. On the screen, that is. My mother enjoyed watching men at construction sites. She drove very slowly by road crews pointing out the areas of interest. She claimed to have been fascinated with heavy machinery. . . so I grew up having her point out men on rooftops, usually without shirts, sweating in the hot sun over righteous labor. The apple doesn’t fall very far, etc. etc.)
At any rate, while the latest Bourne installment lacks the incendiary opening chases that have distinguished some of the others, notably The Bourne Ultimatum, it does offer a voyeuristic glimpse of Matt Damon’s enduring abdominal aesthetic before careening through a cascade of surveillance pornography that is, I’ll admit, very much to my taste. Continue reading “behind the Big Screen“