The latest in our series of writers paying tribute to their comfort films is a journey back to 2000 when Danny Boyle transported us to paradise
I
can’t listen to Porcelain by Moby without picturing a secluded beach and reminiscing about roads less traveled. Somewhere halfway through Danny Boyle’s sun-drenched film The Beach, there’s one scene that captures a sense of awe at life’s extraordinary moments, something I think we need to feel more of. In a world where holidays (or even life itself) are often neatly packaged in all-inclusive, predictable deals, The Beach stands out for showing the opposite. It’s not about tourism – it’s about living, wildly.
Led by a dapper young Leonardo DiCaprio, fresh from the success of Titanic and accompanied by a truly stellar soundtrack I still listen to on long bus journeys, The Beach starts as an adventure into the unfamiliar. A restless Richard (DiCaprio) ditches the daily grind in search of something more, and drifts through Thailand on a relentless quest for a feeling he can’t quite name.
“We were heading for the great unknown,” Richard says, the hedonistic pursuit of freedom lingers through warm-hued scenes as he hauls a backpack across south-east Asian backstreets. A hand-drawn map leading to a hidden beach might verge on cliche on the adventure front, but my best real-life traveling moments really did come about from unexpected encounters. That curiosity of something different from home feels personal to me in this sense, but you don’t have to be a hostel-dwelling nomad for this film to resonate.
