My newfound appreciation for film happened over two long haul flights. That may sound paradoxical, given airline movies suffer from low resolution screens, compressed audio, engine noise, and turbulence. But sixteen hours in economy somehow gave me a new perspective on what makes movies great.
Only with air travel can I glance at and compare multiple films in progress on other passenger screens. A cursory scan across the cabin would usually reveal at least six different movies side by side. Stripped to their essentials, films become mini highlight reels. Some command your attention, while others disappear from memory immediately.
Even the compromises of glancing at your seat mates’ films become more a forcing function than a practical limitation. A lack of sound focuses my attention to the film’s visuals: camera blocking, actors’ expressions, color palettes, and bodies in motion stand out. Because any scene could be playing, narrative takes a back seat to vibes and immediacy.
One Battle After Another, easily the most watched film on both flights, stood out from other contemporary films. Shot in VistaVision, its colors had a unique vibrancy. The large-format lensing also creates a noticeably shallow depth of field. Director Paul Thomas Anderson’s preference for extreme closeups and Steadicam tracking shots gives the film a distinct visual identity.
Nor is identity the only element that stands out on a tiny, pixelated seat-back screen. F1, another popular choice, showcased its strengths and limitations through visual storytelling.
The primary factor in F1’s favor is its well-paced editing. Director Joseph Kosinski has an obvious talent for capturing clear shots that orient the audience. It’s a reminder that cinematic fundamentals typically make or break action scenes. Cool Dolby Atmos panning and special effects mean little if we can’t understand the position and direction of the participants. Pacing is also underrated; the right amount of buildup can be thrilling, but too much can feel exhausting.
However, Kosinski’s visual ingenuity disappears off the race track. The camera mostly sticks to shots, angles, and lighting indistinguishable from streaming TV made for a fraction of the budget. Sometimes the film mixes things up with a wide shot, but the blocking seems more intent on showcasing its sleek, modernist production design than developing the characters. It’s an odd creative choice that has a distancing effect on the story.
While most of my fellow passengers watched new films, The Lord of the Rings trilogy was also a common choice. Even on tiny, pixelated screens, these fantasy epics looked very different from their modern counterparts playing nearby. Paradoxically, the limitations of early 2000s technology — minimal green screen trickery and no virtual soundstages — felt like a net benefit.
Most scenes in the Rings trilogy clearly showcase actors performing against the real New Zealand backdrop. Because the most complex VFX shots couldn’t mix in live actors, cinematographer Andrew Lesnie relies on a simple workaround: he starts with a closeup of an character’s face, then cuts to a reverse shot for the VFX spectacle. It’s a practical approach that gives performers like Ian McKellen and Viggo Mortensen room to showcase their great acting skills. The audience gets a brief pause to connect with the characters before more bombastic special effects kick in. In having character moments feel more grounded and approachable, the Rings trilogy feels more timeless than the average modern blockbuster.
Therein lies the biggest cinematic lesson from my time in the air: a film’s greatness often derives from its fundamentals. Times change, trends come and go, and technology advances, yet strong direction and camera choices often separate the great from the merely good. Watching the screens of my fellow travelers, stripped of surround sound, IMAX screens, and even basic plotting, became a mini revelation.