A question I often ask myself, every time I watch Good Will Hunting, is would the film have been as successful, as meaningful, as resonant, if Ben Affleck and Matt Damon hadn't been real life friends? Because it is, it really is, a great film. The kind of fairytale story that never gets old, that makes you laugh and cry, the perfect coming-of-age tale that speaks to an audience wider than its immediate contemporaries, which is the ultimate dream of the coming-of-age tale. I am obsessed with coming-of-age stories. Almost all of my favourite books and movies fall into this genre. Did I have a stunted youth? Do I dream of always being this age, of always wanting to find myself? Maybe. I think the real answer is that, aged 22, I am coming of age. Ask me in ten years and I'll probably be interested in something different. But for now I devour those stories of learning and loving, of loving learning, of growing up and of understanding. And Good Will Hunting is such an exemplar of the genre.
I do think its success comes from the fact that you know Ben and Matt are a) real life friends and b) writing from experience. They grew up together in Boston and went to drama class together. Matt - the cleverer, clean-cut one - went to Harvard, even though he was still a bit of a boozer and a waster, and Ben chased his dreams all the way to sunny, desperate LA. When they started writing Good Will Hunting in 1993-1994 they were still relative unknowns (read this fantastic oral history of the movie if you haven't already!). It is one of those classic Hollywood legends that Ben and Matt were almost ousted from their lead roles for Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio respectively. Imagine this movie without Ben and Matt... just try. Imagine this movie without that ridiculous hair, that scrubbed-clean skin, those strong jaws. Imagine the Oscars that year without Ben and Matt with their mums on their arm, yelling from the podium "thank you to the city of Boston!" It's impossible. It's as impossible as it is to separate the real life from the fiction. Ben and Matt, best mates from Southie, one brilliant and charming, the other charming and brilliant.
I've always loved Ben best in this movie. Chuckie was a true friend. He picked up Will every day from his house, he drove him around, he fought with him in a fight and laughed with him in a bar. And he supported Will, he wanted more for him, and he said it true. Sure, that wardrobe of tracksuit pants in a veritable smorgasbord of nylon and acrylic doesn't speak 'haute couture', but there's something great about his laidback style. The sloppy joes and thick jeans and steel-cap work boots, the fleecy coat and thin gold chain, the adidas pool sliders at home (well, this was the 90s!). I love the way he is totally comfortable in his clothes. He looks the same - don't you think? - that same overdrawn stance, stooped down a little in the shoulders, like he's too big for his body. And those tracksuits just hang off him in the way clothes hang off the backs of beautiful boys when they're young and brazen. Maybe Will was the good guy but Chuckie was the spark guy. Again though, it's so tangled up with Matt and Ben in real life circa 1997. Before Bourne, before Penelope and Jenny from the Block, before Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Kimmel, sixteen years ago when they were just two kids in tee shirts and jeans on the streets of Boston (how you like them apples?), drinking beer and smoking cigarettes and dreaming big, big dreams.
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