• An image from Agnes Varda’s Vagabond, sans halo

On Saturday afternoon the Gene Siskel Film Center projected Agnes Varda’s Vagabond from 35-millimeter film. Throughout, the celluloid image appeared just larger than the screen, and so a halo of light flickered on the wall to its left. I realized during the screening just how much I value this property of film projection. (I also thought of the painting Rabo Karabekian unveils at the climax of Breakfast of Champions, but that’s neither here nor there.) When images bleed over the parameters of the screen, they become more immersive. Their edges disappearing into the black of the darkened theater, they create the illusion of going on forever. And the grander the movie, the more powerful this illusion becomes. I remember seeing Apocalypse Now Redux on the extrawide screen at the old McClurg Court Cinemas; it was one of the great moviegoing experiences of my life. Sitting in the front row, I often lost sight of where the images stopped—which seemed fitting, given the scope of Coppola’s epic nightmare.