What our favorite movie tells us about ourselves

Movies were first and foremost an out-of-body experience for me. As a child, my favorite movies were aspirational in some way or another. I wanted to be like the main characters. I wanted to be funny and charismatic like Jack Sparrow, so I got obsessed with Pirates of the Caribbean. I wanted to be strong and kind like Superman, so I got obsessed with Superman Returns. Same with Ang Lee’s Hulk, same with Rocky. It’s easy to belittle our old favorites the same way we belittle the past versions of ourselves, but if we pay attention we can find a map that can connect us more to the film lovers we are today.

My biggest obsession was with Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man. I was almost 5 years old when it hit theatres, although I probably saw it for the first time until it was released on DVD. I wanted so badly to be Spider-Man. Peter was a nerdy and scrawny kid like me but somehow found himself swinging between buildings and fighting crime. It looked incredibly fun. I think I simply wanted to be Spider-Man so I could use his moves when I played with my friends. At the time I didn’t care too much if that meant that the Green Goblin would come and get me, I thought I could handle it.

Then I saw Inception when I was 13. It also had an action hero at the forefront, but that wasn’t the main reason why I liked it. It became my favorite because it made me feel smart. I wasn’t, I was 13. But I loved that the movie was like a puzzle being solved in front of my eyes. I was blown away by that last frame, cut to perfection to evoke the feeling that the totem was about to fall but without giving you that certainty. It still gives me chills to this day.

Right now I appreciate Inception more as a great spectacle with some fun time gimmicks instead of a puzzle that happens to have great action. I think 13-year-old Sebastian was trying to veer into heavier films, so a movie like Inception was the perfect gateway drug. In retrospect, I think the puzzle aspect is responsible for most of its defects, like the endless exposition that sometimes gets in the way of the emotion. I didn’t care, I could’ve listened to Joseph Gordon-Levitt explain everything for 10 more hours if he wanted to.

The Social Network appealed first and foremost to my techie side. I love technology to this day, but in high school I thought I wanted to dedicate my life to it. I was a Steve Jobs fan, I yearned about changing the world through technological innovations. The Social Network had scenes that electrified this side of me. The narrated hacking scene to create Facemash, the moment he comes up with “Relationship status”, the coding competition that ends with a calm “Welcome to Facebook” before the crowd erupts. High school Sebastian understood the subtext of all of these scenes but didn’t love them because of it, he loved them in spite of it.

It fortunately didn’t become my favorite movie until I realized I loved it for the wrong reasons. In university, I got more into film, including my first forays into filmmaking with my friends. I started writing and analyzing films more deeply. The text and subtext finally clicked. Fincher’s movie depicts the wonder and excitement of creation in such a vivid and precise way. It’s incredibly energizing to watch, which makes the subtext much more powerful. That creative energy can become ugly and destructive if it comes from a place of insecurity or hate. It’s hard to face that as a teenager that believes that tech creation will always improve the world.

My favorite movie right now is Mad Max: Fury Road. The first time I saw it as a young adult back in 2015, I liked it but didn’t fully get it. I admired it from a distance. Six years later, I read Blood, Sweat & Chrome by Kyle Buchanan during my time in film school. I was in a new country, in a new city, in a new relationship, learning about the medium I loved while trying to find my voice as a filmmaker. That movie and that period of my story cemented what I look for in art and what I value most in life.

Mad Max: Fury Road is a perfect masterpiece behind and in front of the camera. Behind the scenes, it’s a tale of believing in your story even when 30 years pass and you haven’t shot a single thing. It’s the perfect example of the director's vision, since Miller just got the pieces he needed and barely shot coverage. The whole movie was in his head brewing for decades, fueled by his curiosity, uniqueness, and talent. That’s what I want in a movie: intent and humanity behind every decision.

In front of the camera, it’s a deceivingly simple painting that opens up the more you stare at the brushstrokes. Look at its worldbuilding and you can find environmentalism and a critique of capitalism. Look at its female characters and you can find feminist theory, a reclaim of humanity in the face of commodification. Look at its protagonist and you can find the need for community that remains even when we believe we’ve lost everything. Mad Max: Fury Road is a perfect study of the dichotomy between power and love. Did I mention that it also has some of the best action sequences ever?

So I like spectacle, I like a movie that makes me think, but above all I like a movie that makes me feel. That has been the constant all these years. I thought it all started as an out-of-body experience, but it turns out that film has always been an experience that connects me even more to myself. Watching Spider-Man’s strength connected me to my own. Nolan’s time mechanics connected me to my curiosity. Fincher’s perfectionist bolt of energy connected me to my ache to create. Watching Mad Max: Fury Road connects me to the things I value most: love, hope, and community. And cool stunts, that too.