You laugh and cry. Marvel at another mans fantasy.
If you strip away the make up, a story unravels.
For all we see. Of ideas of what we can become. Of magic powers and of technology not yet invented.
The man on the screen is not interesting because of his powers.
He interests you because he tells you a story about yourself.
About your anger, your self-pity, of your happiness.
You laugh outside the cinema doors. Remembering scenes and scraps of dialog.
You remember the gadgets, the magic and the choices. What if you could fly - if you were invisible?
How would it change anything? Your fantasy is inflamed, the borders of reality are allowed to falter.
The story could have been stripped of all things embroidering it. The core would still tell you something about yourself. Of what you can choose to be.