Life at large gets back to normal today, which is to say that my time off for Christmas and New Years is officially over. All of that gift-giving and over-eating was a lot of fun, but what excited me most about seven of ten days off was the chance to soak up some movie-goin’. As luck would have it, this all co-incided nicely with TIFF’s 70mm programme and while it wasn’t my intention at first, I found myself watching all three of the films The Lightbox brought in.

My thoughts on the big-time experience after the jump.

First up, I ventured off alone to see Jacques Tati’s PLAY TIME, which was the biggest x-factor for me since it was the only one of the three films I’d never seen before. It was actually a bit of a challenge, since I walked into it blind and really had no idea what sort of story Tati was about to tell me…which is the catch, because it’s the film doesn’t exactly tell “a story” so much as it guides us through a series of vignettes of varying length and scale. I got into it after a moment or two, but suffice it to say that I wasn’t prepared for that.

For this film, the 70mm decision is all about capturing detail. There are many shots that look down long corridors…across wide boulevards…over massive office floors. On regular film stock, many details in the distance would just be blurry smudges. In 70mm, you can see that a man walking towards the camera is wearing brown shoes while he’s still a good thirty yards away.

The crazy side effect of this – and the style of the film in general – was that there was many-a-time where I didn’t know where to look. For PLAY TIME, Tati had a lot of balls in the air and if anything I want to watch it again just to focus on some other elements of the stunt he’s pulling off.

I had company for the second film of the 70mm trilogy, as Lady Hatter and Danger Girl joined me to watch 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY. The cool thing for this night was that we arrived a bit earlier and were able to nab “the good seats”. Like many theatres, Lightbox Cinema one is divided in two, with a main bank of stadium seats, an aisle, and then another half dozen rows that are too close for comfort. The front row of that upper bank is a prime spot – the screen fills your vision, there’s nobody blocking your vision with a huge head, and a wicked amount of legroom.

This was my first experience with a film that had an overture that plays with the curtains closed (and likewise an intermission). Those eerie ominous strings sure did set the stage for the eerily abstract nature of what was to come. While the use of 70 mil in PLAY TIME was all about picking up nuance, 2001 was purely interested in scale. And if there was any doubt that it worked the audible “W-o-o-o-o-a-a-a-a-h-h-h” Danger Girl uttered during the opening shots erased them in a hurry.

As Douglas Trumbull’s words echoed in my ear, I quickly understood what he meant when he said that the cinematic language of 2001 was dependant on a giant screen and the engulfment it provides. From the sprawling plains during the dawn of man, to the vast emptiness of the lunar surface…I just felt dwarfed during every scene.

I still don’t completely “get it”…but in this instance, I equate it to listening to Pete Townshend play live in a world class concert hall, and he’s playing a song where I don’t understand the lyrics.

Finally, I met up with Bob to make good on something I’d suggested almost a year ago. See, when I discovered that Bob’s unseen classic/essential was LAWRENCE OF ARABIA, I suggested that he wait. I very easily could have handed him my dvd copy, but instead I told him to keep his eyes out for a showing on a big screen.

Alas, his time had finally come.

With Lawrence, we were treated to another sampling of yesteryear moviegoing with yet another score that played with the curtain shut, and an intermission. A much-needed intermission at that!

LAWRENCE might actually be the hybrid of 2001’s immensity and PLAY TIME’s detail. On the one had, we were completely surrounded by that vast desert that Lawrence, Ali and the arabs spend so much time marching through. Seeing it for the first time on a big screen, it finally dawned on me that many of the dunes and rock formations that backdrop the scenes are about the size of Dodgers Stadium. But along with that was the chance to see those long shots of figures coming from the horizon for all they were worth.

Twice within the film, characters look to the vast horizon line…and in each instance, David Lean lets the camera roll as a figure slowly makes their way through blurry waves of heat. You’ll swear they’re coming from half a mile away. On dvd, you can’t see where they come from…they just suddenly appear. But in 70 mil, you can see them from the start of the shot. They begin as precious little more than a black pixel…but they are there…and seeing them make that long walk from nothing makes it all the more impressive.

On the whole, it was a very illuminating week of watching. In each case, seeing these films in this format gave me a new appreciation for them. And while 70mm presentations are rare, they aren’t as rare as IMAX films which depend entirely on the size of the venue. Check ’em out if you ever get the chance.