Before John Krasinski began directing his special live read of Good Will Hunting, there were two standing ovations.
The former Office star and director of The Hollars achieved peak Boston on Friday night, when he reunited the Oscar-winning film's writers, Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, to reprise their mid-90s roles.
But let me back up a bit. I bought tickets for the Good Will Hunting read the day they went on sale, set an alarm in my phone to get them at the right time in case they sold out immediately. On Sept. 22, Krasinski announced the event and posted about it on Twitter:
Tweet may have been deleted
THAT'S IT. That is all the information I and probably dozens of others needed to blindly send my money to NYU's Skirball Center like a drunk person who opened Venmo and misunderstands decimals as a concept. In the following fortnight, Krasinski released almost no further information about the event, except for casually mentioning that he had cast some girl named Emily Blunt.
So when my friends and I took our seats on Oct. 7, we were positively quivering with excitement, tossing around outlandish casting theories as we waited (my contribution: Aziz Ansari as Sean Maguire. I did an impression that included "It's not your fault," and I'm not proud of it). I started sweating when Krasinski appeared and introduced Keegan-Michael Key, and I never stopped.
Something felt a little off as Krasinski announced he would be reading the part of Will Hunting (looking back, this must be how it feels to be pranked by Jim Halpert), and sure enough, a voice off stage grumbled "I'm not really okay with that."
I think we started cheering before Matt Damon had fully emerged from behind the curtain, and the cheers, applause, and shuffling to stand up overpowered any other words the two exchanged.
So John moved to read for Chuckie, and I was happy and content and all was right with the world and then--
"No, no," said another voice off stage.
This time, the applause was instantaneous. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, bless you John Krasinski. Once again we scrambled and gasped and stood up, clapping and cheering and definitely not crying.
Before the event, one of the organizers told us what we maybe already knew but hadn't consciously realized; Live Read is an event unlike any other. It won't be done again, it won't be on the Internet, it just happens. The hundreds of people in the theater were the only ones ever to see Good Will Hunting read live, let alone by its authors.
I've read a little postmortem coverage of the event, but nothing captures the experience, the marvelous ease with which Damon and Affleck revert to Will and Chuckie, the way Key commands any room and role. Krasinski's rapid narration still allowed room to take in the moments, like when he insisted that Will and Skylar "do NOT kiss." Or when Will says the Red Sox haven't won the World Series since 1918 and Damon added a smug "at the time."
Before the show, my friends and I lamented not re-watching the movie to prepare for the live read, but in retrospect I am so glad we didn't. I haven't seen Good Will Hunting enough times to have picked up on all the little differences in the shooting script, which is chock-full of Chuckie and narration like
"Skylar looks up in admiration at Will, the robot pimp."
Seriously, that's in the script, and now forever seared into my memory.
I was at a loss all weekend to explain what I'd witnessed, knowing that it was special but that no amount of retelling would account for why the whole auditorium burst out laughing when Daveed Diggs as Morgan said "What's up guys?" at Chuckie's house (one thing that does translate: Martindale as Sean Maguire. Seriously, go watch The Hollars).
I actually felt my heart swell with pride and joy to see them assembled there: artists, stars, but still a few boys from the city by the sea. I was born in Boston, and even though I spent more of my life growing up in suburban Michigan, you only get one hometown. I can close my eyes and take that drive along the Charles, spent my childhood visiting houses with the distinctly New England look of Chuckie's. Every time I visit I think, "Yeah, I could live here," and briefly contemplating canceling my return ticket. I'll always feel a connection to the movie and to anything that Affleck, Damon and Krasinski do.
More than anything, the evening was a reminder of how truly excellent that script is. From the first descriptors of an empty L Street bar to the rough, authentic dialogue, Good Will Hunting doesn't read like a movie; it's not ambitiously, overly cinematic, and that's what made it so brilliant and holds it up to this day. There's a good chance Damon and Affleck won't do anything like this again (unless next time Krasinski stages it on Boston Common), even for the film's 20th anniversary next year. It was historic, it was exceptional, and it's wicked smaht.
