Silver Screen and Gold Feelings

Present Sense № 30 | Film Recs

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko

My first movie theater experience was at the age of six. My father took me to see ‘Sleepless in Seattle.’ I must have been the youngest audience member in the room by several decades.

Even though the plot is a bit complex for a child, I was fully absorbed by the story. So much so that towards the end of the film, when Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks almost missed each other at the top of Empire State Building, I rose from my seat and shouted to the screen “Wait!!! She’s coming!” The theater audience swiveled their heads to look at me, and burst into tender laughter.

I vividly remember that moment and it was often shared by my father, as one of those cute anecdotes you tell about your kid. In retrospect, the seeming innocence of that moment does hide a more profound childhood drama – my own story of separation, missed connection and longing for family union.

One thing that hasn’t changed from that first theater experience is the effect that films have on me. When I watch a movie (especially on a large screen), I become so fully engrossed that I can rarely distance myself enough to remember that it’s “not real.”

A psychotherapist friend recently told me that when we dream, our bodies don’t know that the experience isn’t reality. We react, internally and chemically, in the same way as we would in real life. I suppose the same phenomenon happens with movies. For that reason, I watch them periodically. I can only handle the emotional roller coaster in small doses.

But in the past couple months I’ve been going out to see a number of films. This is partly a consequence of being married to a cinephile, who is also a screenwriter. I also believe these outings have enabled me to both take a break from my everyday reality as well as help me process it.

I’ve often oscillated between shock, confusion and judgement at how much our modern society spends on entertainment. Not simply the number of hours of content (apparently Americans dedicate about 28 hours a week watching movies or TV series), but also the amount of money and energy these industries demand.

When I see the multi-million dollar budgets required to make a movie, I’ve often wondered whether that money could be used towards more productive means: curing diseases, ending famine, dissolving economic inequalities.

Yet I’m reminded time and again that one of our core human traits is that we’re story-tellers. Our ancestors shared tales around the campfire, and we continue that tradition under the spotlight of projectors.

Stories, whether on a page or on screen do serve an important purpose. And sometimes their effect can actually ripple into wide collective action. I can’t dismiss the ways in which films have impacted my ways of thinking, relating and behaving ––influencing what I eat, how I shop, or where I work.

Some films have delivered levity and laughter when I felt despair and hopelessness. Some have offered somber truths and wise perspectives, in areas of ignorance. They’ve given me the space to feel buried emotions, within the cozy dark rooms of their theater. They’ve reminded me of important life lessons and re-centered my own priorities. And most importantly, they’ve been powerful vehicles for empathy. Even though I can be reluctant to hop on their emotional rollercoaster, they’re often worth the ride.

The Present Sense weekend editions typically include suggestions for books, songs, recipes, and meditations – but today’s issue is dedicated to the sensory realm of movies. A number of the recommendations below are nominated for this weekend’s Oscar awards (except for the last one, which might be my favorite).

In Joy,

Sabrina

SEE

Anora | Directed by Sean Baker

I’m a big fan of Sean Baker’s films (‘The Florida Project’ is one of my favorite films from the past decade). Baker always picks obscure topics and casts the most unexpected and interesting actors. His latest film, ‘Anora,’ is a modern day Cinderella story, except the main character is an exotic dancer and the prince charming is the spoiled son of an oligarch. It’s both hilarious and profound – with an ending that took me by surprise and made me sob.

HEAR

A Complete Unknown | directed by James Mangold

I was reluctant to see this Bob Dylan biopic, in large part because I’ve grown tired of watching Timothée Chalamet cast in almost every major movie the past few years. But I admit I really enjoyed the film, as it offered a nuanced portrayal of a legendary musician. Bob Dylan is depicted as a complex artist, a genius with his songwriting and ruthlessly insensitive in his relationships. It also tackles some of the disturbing shifts that come with fame, and even offers glimpses of artist friendships I wasn’t aware of (such as the pen pal relationship Dylan and Johnny Cash shared). The story builds up to a scene that epitomizes the challenging choice that most artists have to face at some point in their career: staying the same to please their fans, or evolving their craft and venturing into unexplored artistic territory.

SMELL

Scented Theaters

Movie studios and technologists have been trying to integrate scent into our film experience for decades. The first attempt was in 1916 when rose perfumed soaked cotton balls were hung near ceiling fans during a film about the Tournament of Roses parade. Since then, others have tried to pump fragrances through air conditioning vents, built-in timing systems, or tubes installed in theatre seats. But in most of those cases, the various scents would mix together to create unpleasant combinations. The most successful attempt was in 1982 when John Waters distributed Odorama cards to viewers, who scratched specific boxes when prompted on-screen.

The search for an olfactory viewing experience continues with 4DX theaters that release fragrance, as well as fog, snow or other immersive elements. Just last year, A24 released a blueberry pie scent during a crucial scene in the horror film ‘Heretic.’

TASTE

Homemade popcorn | recipe

Popcorn is the quintessential movie snack, ever since the 1930s when sugar supplies were low in the post-depression era and corn became an affordable snack. The experience can easily be recreated at home. No need to purchase the microwavable brands, it only takes 5 minutes to make healthy and tasty popcorn from scratch:

Ingredients:

¼ cup of popcorn kernels

1 tablespoon of oil (olive or coconut)

salt

Method:

- In a large saucepan, add oil and kernels. Cover and cook over medium high heat

- Wait for the kernels to pop. They’re ready when the popping sound slows down

- Transfer them into a bowl and sprinkle with salt

- You can also get creative with your toppings, making it spicy (with cayenne and pepper); sweet (with cinnamon and sugar); cheesy (with parmesan or nutritional yeast); or classic-style buttery (with a tablespoon of melted butter).

TOUCH

Memoir of a Snail | directed by Adam Elliot

This animation film has a bit of a dark undertone, both visually and narratively, but is ultimately a hopeful and inspiring story about a misfit finding her way through life. It reminded me of Wallace & Gromit’s aesthetic. In part because the stop-motion animation was made entirely by hand using clay – a true tactile feat. The writer/director described the endeavor: “We wanted to celebrate the lumps and bumps. We use two words a lot in the studio: chunky wonky. Everything has to look a bit imperfect, asymmetrical, a bit rough around the edges.”

BALANCE

I’m Still Here | directed by Walter Salles

Based on a true story, ‘I’m Still Here’ depicts a family torn apart during the Brazilian military dictatorship that took place between 1964 and 1985. It’s a powerful lesson in how dictatorships slowly and violently escalate and ravage entire systems and familial bonds. It also shows the power of resilience, resistance, and even joy in the face of fear and abuse. The cinematography and actor’s performances are hauntingly mesmerizing, especially that of leading actress Fernanda Torres (who plays Eunice Paiva).

ENVISION

All We Imagine as Light | directed by Payal Kapadia

I hadn’t heard about this film and I’m glad some friends took me to see it last month. It’s not an Oscar nominee but it well deserves our attention. In many ways, this is a quiet film, a contemplation of everyday life in the loud city of Mumbai. On a microlevel, it’s the story of two nurses, their friendship, work setting, and romantic lives. The overall themes explore love in conflicting religions, marriage across long-distances, as well as letting go and risk-taking in matters of the heart.

A couple passages stay engraved in my mind. Notably, when the city’s gentrification unsettles families in order to build high rises, one of the characters notes: “They build higher towers thinking they can replace God.” Another moment is the description of Mumbai as “a city of illusions” (instead of dreams) — which reminded me of living in New York and Los Angeles.