BETHEL — As cars rumbled into the Bethel Drive-In for a screening of “The Odyssey” last Saturday, the bloated rain clouds overhead looked as threatening as the choppy waters Odysseus navigated on his journey home.
The setting was a small tree-bordered field near a quiet stretch of Route 12. It could not have been more different from the gussied-up IMAX theaters that have enticed cinephiles and fans of director Christopher Nolan with their curved, extra-tall screens and custom sound systems designed to yield a superior viewing experience.
Even more specialized are the 70mm IMAX theaters, which deliver crystal clear resolution and an even taller aspect ratio than regular IMAX.
Not everyone, though, has the time, money or interest in such a pilgrimage.
For Upper Valley residents, the closest IMAX theater is an hour-and-a-half away at the Apple Cinemas in Hooksett, N.H. where an adult ticket to “The Odyssey,” which recently grossed over $1 billion, costs about $16. Meanwhile the closest 70mm IMAX theater, of which there are only 25 in the country, is more than a three-hour drive away in Providence, R.I., and those tickets cost $20.75.
If seeing “The Odyssey” in IMAX is about experiencing a film with the best tech possible, drive-ins sit at the opposite end of the spectrum. Films are projected on rudimentary outdoor screens. Viewers are at the mercy of the elements, which, on Saturday, included heavy rain and bouts of thick fog.
But for some in attendance that night, being in nature, inclement weather and all, was the point.
“It’s much nicer to be out, surrounded by trees,” Kasey Rogers, a rising senior at White River Valley High School, said as he and his friends settled in for the film.
That night they’d been feeling “bored and wanted to do stuff,” said Liam White, a rising WRVHS senior who ferried the boys to the drive-in in his Subaru.
For a group of high school students, a $10 ticket to the drive-in also was more affordable than one to an IMAX theater, said White’s friend, rising junior Tanner Elmore.
The trunk door to White’s Subaru was broken that night, so he propped it up with two metal fence posts from his family’s farm in Bethel. While White lounged in the trunk, his friends sat in lawn chairs arranged in a line in front of the Subaru. They tucked into heaping containers of Chinese food from East Garden in Randolph, plus chicken wings from Cockadoodle Pizza Cafe in Bethel and doughnuts from Dunkin,’ for good measure.
The boys weren’t too caught up in the hype around “The Odyssey”, but they recalled reading the book in class, with varying degrees of success.
“I read a chapter at most,” Elmore said.
Rogers had fared better. “I’m mostly here to see the historical accuracies and inaccuracies” in the film, he said.
In a postmortem about the movie a few hours later, Rogers shared that “There was a lot of stuff missing from the book.” He was particularly disappointed that there wasn’t any dialogue between Odysseus and the Cyclops, who is silent in Nolan’s version, save for a cry of rage or a satisfied moan as he munches on a sheep or an unlucky soldier.
Then there was the rain.
As the boys worked through their feast in the half hour before showtime, the downpour drenched the 15 or so parked cars and their passengers. Quickly, people collapsed their lawn chairs and sought shelter in their vehicles.
The lot was suddenly still — just rows of anonymous cars standing in a muddy field, their occupants hidden from sight.
Couple Paige Lagerstedt, of Northfield, Vt., and Cameron Comstock, of Orange, Vt., hunkered down on a pile of blankets in a small hatchback.
“I hope it clears up,” Lagerstedt, 22, said. “But either way, we’re going to be dry.”
Like Rogers and his posse, the couple had been looking for something to do that humid August night.
Comstock had enjoyed “Gladiator,” Ridley Scott’s 2000 action film about a former Roman general forced to fight in the arena, and he thought “The Odyssey” “looked cool,” too, he said.
Plus, Lagerstedt said, “You have to go to the drive-in in the summer.” Part of the fun is the freedom that comes with being in your own vehicle, she said.
Others seemed to share Lagerstedt’s love of the drive-in, or perhaps they were just committed to seeing the movie. Even in the downpour, only one car bailed.
Luckily, the rain began to dissipate as the film began, and shots of an ancient Ithaca shone out against a background of shadowy conifers.
At the back of the lot, Tammy Tomaszewski, who runs the drive-in with her husband David Tomaszewski, maintained her usual post inside the pale blue bus that’s used for concessions.
Nolan fans might be willing to travel near and far to see the British-American director’s latest opus, but Tammy Tomaszewski struggled to match their enthusiasm.
For weeks, she’s procrastinated screening “The Odyssey” because the three-hour run-time promises a particularly long night, she said as she monitored a batch of popcorn heating in a small machine.
The past couple of showings had garnered decent turnouts, but she suspected some viewers had been diverted to theaters playing “Spider-Man: Brand New Day,” which opened in the U.S. on July 31.
The rain held off as Matt Damon’s Odysseus ran from the towering Cyclops and dodged the raging whirlpool Charybdis, but as the sky darkened, a new obstruction emerged: heavy fog, which pooled in the field, covering the screen in a thick haze.
On top of that was the occasional distraction of a rogue set of headlights that distorted the bottom of the projection, and the buzz of blood-thirsty mosquitoes, who sunk their proboscis into the soft flesh of forearms and ankles.
There were man-made disturbances, too. A truck parked next to the boys from WRVHS chugged and rumbled so loudly as to rival the audio playing from White’s Subaru.
These were hardly ideal moviegoing conditions, and nothing close to the cushy experience of IMAX, which, in addition to being high-tech, is also car-free and indoors. But such disturbances also seem fitting for a movie about one man’s confrontation with an endless slew of obstacles.
How’s that for immersive cinema?