IMAX ruins writer's life, sleeping patterns

By Melissa Mongi
Senior Staff Writer
April 4, 2007

Whenever there is a trip to the Franklin Institute, I get nostalgic for childhood days of yore. Whether it’s the life size heart or the hands-on scientific games, I love to run around the museum pretending I’m a kid again, and for some reason every trip leads to the IMAX theater. The climb up to the seats gives this acrophobic a slight panic attack. When I finally land in my seat, after leading my way to it by grasping unto the railing and my life, I look up at the immense screen.

The IMAX experience, for me, always means a strained neck and a nap. My assumption going into the theater is that I will enjoy the beauty of nature as large as the dome can hold. Yet, once the large projector starts rolling, the calming music, mellow narrator and sometimes dull subject always ready me for well-needed sleep.

According to Wikipedia, IMAX was designed to dramatically increase the resolution of the image, using larger film. The film is then run sideways through the cameras. Three times as much film needs to move through the camera each second for an IMAX film.

For me, the wonder of every IMAX movie is how with all that clarity I am able to fall asleep. Apparently, the brilliant images are not enough for this sleepy viewer. I think the producers of IMAX films, designed for places like the Franklin Institute, had a meeting, knowing some viewers may indeed fall asleep. With that in mind, I have realized, each film I sleep through always has an explosion of some sort. No matter the film’s topic, there is a loud explosion forcing naughty nappers to awaken from their slumber. I thought a lovely film on Egypt’s pyramids would be the perfect time to sleep. Alas, the makers of IMAX tricked me again when I awoke to a loud explosion. Apparently, ancient pyramid robbers had dynamite. Who knew? IMAX one, Mongi, zero.

In the beginning of the IMAX film, there is a disclaimer that if you feel motion sickness, you should simply close your eyes. Upon revisiting the Franklin Institute and hearing this disclaimer I laughed, thinking it was a joke. Half-way through the film, while myself and the audience were flying over Egypt, I knew exactly what the disclaimer was warning against and felt I might fall out of my chair. I closed my eyes to reduce the motion sickness and did not reopen them till that blasted pyramid explosion. Even the IMAX disclaimer sympathizes with my sleep deprivation, compassionately reminding me to just “close my eyes.”

I tested out the IMAX for regular films when I went to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The IMAX did not put me to sleep because I had to actively watch the movie moving my head from left to right at a rapid pace, especially during the Quidditch matches. The movie left me with a stiff neck and knowing all too well how many freckles the Weasley brothers have.

Not that I think IMAX films lack excitement, but I realize they are documentaries, put on a larger scale. The use of different camera techniques to make the viewer feel they are right next to the image is exhilarating. Still, the relaxing music and the scientist who usually pops up to explain things I don’t understand all make for a lovely sleeping atmosphere.

Maybe next time I should just skip the IMAX and stick to running around the heart for hours. When I get tired from that I might just head to the Planetarium. I hear that’s another good place for a nap.

mongim1@lasalle.edu