Page 40 of In at the Deep End
And up until this moment I thought we simply enjoyed each other’s company.
Now he realised they shared a language. Films clearly weren’t just entertainment to Matt. They were old friends—stories worth returning to, people worth meeting again.
Suddenly, unpacking God knows how many boxes of DVDs didn’t feel like a chore.
Matt’s breathing hitched, and he glanced up. “You’ve got Local Hero?”
Owen stilled. “Of course.”
“I love that film.”
“You do?” It wasn’t the sort of film he’d expected a twenty-five-year-old to know, let alone love. It wasn’t even the sort of film most people got excited about, and yet Matt looked as though he’d just found buried treasure.
Matt nodded. “It shouldn’t work.”
“Tiny story. No real villain. Half the time it feels as though nothing’s happening.”
“Exactly. And then somehow…” Matt breathed a sigh. “You don’t want it to end.”
“That’s exactly why I love it. It’s a film where the plot is almost beside the point.”
“Yes!”
Owen nodded. “It’s all about how it makes you feel.” He cocked his head. “What do you think is the greatest British film ever made?”
Matt didn’t answer immediately. “Depends what you mean by greatest.”
Owen laughed. “Sensible answer.”
“If we’re talking influence…” Matt shrugged. “The Third Man.”
He nodded again. “Hard to argue with.”
“But if we’re talking the one I’d actually rewatch countless times…”
Owen grinned. “That’s a different question.”
Matt picked up a case. “A Matter of Life and Death.”
He blinked. “You have got to be kidding.”
Matt frowned. “What?”
“That’s exactly what I was about to say.”
He laughed. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“The colour…”
“…when Heaven suddenly appears in Technicolor,” Owen finished.
Matt’s eyes widened.
“And the staircase,” they said together.
They both stopped.
