Like the formula that theaters become cool refuges during heatwaves, major domestic and international films are releasing one after another, bringing renewed vitality to cinemas. Christopher Nolan's Odyssey, which has sparked a wave of "IMAX re-watching," is among them. In Korea alone, it drew 5 million viewers within two weeks and is surging at the box office. This success stems from the director's exceptional storytelling, weaving a familiar mythic narrative of the Trojan War and a difficult journey home without a single dull moment despite its three-hour runtime, as well as the unique aesthetic of optical projection that can only be experienced in theaters.
In the history of film technology, IMAX or wide-screen lineage traces back to 1950s CinemaScope technology. Moving beyond the classic aspect ratio (4:3) that could be taken in at a glance, the effect of the large, horizontally expansive screen was not merely about seeing "bigger." By allowing our gaze to freely roam beyond the screen, it enables audiences to experience a phenomenological sense of unity—not as mere observers, but as if they exist within the cinematic world itself. While 3D technology, often compared for its realistic effects, gives the sensation of the film "coming toward" the audience, the massive screen filling the entire field of view emphasizes the feeling that the audience is "inside" that world.
Traditional art has found its charm in sensing ideals freed from the conditions of reality. Whether it is landscapes seen with the mind's eye, celestial faces and voices that do not exist in reality, or perfect movements difficult for the human body to achieve, art has always pursued forms that transcend the physical limits of reality. If gravity is the force that holds reality down, then art has long dreamed of liberation from that gravity. This is why Heinrich von Kleist presented the movement of puppets as an ideal of artistic beauty in his essay On the Marionette Theater. Unlike the human body, which is bound by earthly gravity, a puppet suspended on strings moves lightly and gracefully, freed from gravitational constraints—much like how the ideal of dance depends on how long one can float and move as if flying in midair.
In contrast, film's greatest characteristic is its close connection to reality. Even when depicting complete fantasy, films must operate according to physical laws we can recognize. Whether aliens appear or spaceships traverse the universe, films make them feel as though they truly exist somewhere. For cinematic imagination to gain credibility, it must ultimately take root in the gravity and materiality of reality. This does not mean reality must be reproduced exactly; rather, even the most unfamiliar world must be made believable as real.
3D or IMAX offer experiences that television, desktop, and even mobile device screens can never create. Today's "screen in the palm," which dominates our daily lives—particularly the vertical screens of short-form videos and mobile media—boldly cuts out the entire landscape of the world to focus attention solely on one person's face and movements. This one-person-centered vertical frame has opened a new era where everyone becomes a creator and protagonist, yet such image experiences cannot replace the unique realism that film possesses. We endlessly scroll through short-form content consuming "fun," but it is difficult to experience the full "immersion" of being completely drawn into that world.
This is why the analog aesthetics of <Odyssey> stand out even more in an era where digital visual effects (CG) have made it commonplace to easily dress up backgrounds. The physical struggle and traces of gravity captured on film—built by constructing and demolishing massive structures in the rugged environments of actual locations, and further enhanced by changing IMAX film every two minutes and thirty seconds—are something pixels can never replicate.
This is why audiences willingly embark on a three-hour voyage even in an age flooded with fragmented virtual images. Film transforms imagined worlds into tangible experiences. To confront the weight of that reality with our entire bodies, we still head toward dark theaters.
