For those of you who may be pop-culturally illiterate, hesitant to "try new things" never mind take a risk on a movie suggestion that God-forbid may "jeopardize your precious time (of) watching Netflix and scrolling through Instagram photos," I have an excellent recommendation. Thematically brilliant, Good Will Hunting possesses the intangible cinematic messages, motifs, and storyline necessary for beautiful, inspirational cinema, inevitably appealing to the most broad demographic, humans. If you have yet to see the film, you may already recognize some standout, mainstream characters and phrases. So the next time your buddy butchers a Boston accent while trying to "pahk his cah" or say that you're "wicked smaht," at least you'll know where it came from. Simply put, if you have eyes, ears, two hours, and any sort of taste, make the right decision: consider this choice.
        Good Will Hunting. In my humble opinion, the foundation for genius entertainment. One of the single greatest movies of all-time. The catalyst igniting such careers as Matt Damon, Ben Affleck, Robin Williams. The stand alone cause for my romantically-driven infatuation for Minnie Driver. Not only does the movie provide a familiar, comforting perspective of the city you call home, but also delves deep within the unfortunate, yet moving truth behind the struggling blue-collar, courageous townies of South Boston.
        As illustrated through images, brochures and media, Boston, along with any city, is portrayed as the "always sunny," "birds chirping," "blue skies" welcoming environment. The Hancock Building is always photographed glistening in the sun, and The Commons are always aesthetic, beautiful, how people "want" them to appear. Much like the Gilded Age, a period when Industrial America seemed to prosper from an outsider's perspective while in reality the working class suffered with hardships, Boston too can mirror this time in history. For many, the Celtics' 17 titles, the Patriots' decade of dominance, The North End's iconic Italian restaurants, and abundance of America's top schools such as Harvard and MIT, will trump what the public doesn't "want" you to see, overlooking the drugs, the theft, the loyalty, the impoverished, just over the Zakim. Despite this seemingly unappealing side of reality, the true beauty behind the film lies within the audacity to expose the truth of a futile, Southie neighborhood juxtaposed with a gifted kid's opportunistic chance to make it out.
        Will Hunting (Matt Damon) is a 21 year-old mischievous kid. On the outside, a stereotypical product of Southie, while on the inside, Hunting possesses a unique gift that is his one and only ticket out of South Boston. His resumé reads like a rap sheet. Nurtured with the necessary defensive, loyal characteristics to survive in such a neighborhood, Hunting masks an extraordinary ability to solve the world's most elaborate mathematical equations. While working as a janitor at one of the country's most prestigious schools, MIT, Hunting surreptitiously displays his talents, solving equations on blackboards. After MIT Professor Gerald Lambeau discovers Hunting's gift (unveiling him as the mystery man,) the two compensate on a solution that will benefit them both: Lambeau will bail Will out of jail if Hunting goes over some mathematical theories with the professor. Oh, one more circumstance, despite his cooperation, Hunting must meet with a therapist. Putting up with the professor's stipulations, Hunting fulfills his promises to not only publicly display his gift of solving equations, but also consistently meet with a therapist. After a series of sessions with top psychologists result unsuccessfully to say the least, Lambeau resorts to his last option, old college roommate Sean Maguire. Maguire, infamously played by Robin Williams, teaches part time at Bunker Hill Community College. Similar to Will, Maquire too is a boy genius from Southie. Hoping he finally found somebody that can get through to Will, Lambeau, when questioned why he came to Maquire for help, reasons, "Well you're from the same neighborhood." After a seemingly counterproductive, futile first session, Will rushes out of Maguire's office in anger. Anticipating another inevitable therapeutic disaster, Lambeau apologizes on behalf of Will, only to the surprise of Maquire's next statement: "Make sure the kid's in my office Friday at 5." Despite the evidential challenge Maquire faces, he is not only up for the challenge, but also feels obligated to help Will reach his true potential, rather than giving up on the boy from Southie, something Will has become accustomed to. This poignant scene allows the audience to see Sean's character for the first time, realizing the striking internal similarities between Hunting and Maquire. As the plot thickens, scenes alternate between Hunting managing his fulfillment of Lambeau's deal, while balancing a social life consisting of friends, romance and felonies. Throughout the remainder of the film, a friendship forms as Maquire relates to Will. With the two seeing eye to eye, Hunting grows comfortable enough to let Sean in on his personal life including his most recent encounterings with friends Chuckie (Ben Affleck), Morgan (Casey Affleck) and Billy (Cole Hauser) and new girlfriend, Harvard student Skylar (Minnie Driver). With the film nearing a conclusion, Will, now more mature and experienced from when we first saw him in the movie, is at a crossroads. Faced with a moral dilemma, Hunting is left with the decision to pursue one of the job offers that the professor has arranged for him or follow Skylar to California as she attends med school following graduation.   
        Alright. That right there is the gist of the storyline, and despite my in depth summary, you may still be asking "What separates this from any other movie?"
        Well, here's the fun part.Throughout Good Will Hunting, there's a certain reoccurring theme that trumps all: opportunity. Within the film, opportunity lies everywhere. Stereotypically, South Boston has a notorious rep, a negative connotation regarding such familiar words as drugs, crime, futility. Simply put, "People don't make it out of South Boston," or better stated, "The only way you make it out of Southie is either behind bars or in a box." So why make a movie about hope in a place where it statistically doesn't exist? Well that's the beauty of it. Even in the country's least likely of places, this "hope," "opportunity," "way out" is brought to life, disguised as motifs scattered throughout the film. These motifs to name just a couple include "planes," and my favorite: "the lottery ticket."
       When you see the film, you may notice that Matt Damon keeps looking up at the sky, seeing planes through the air. Despite your initial opinion, no, this is not just some effort by the director to add his ambiguous, cinematic attempt of prolonging the movie. This right here is one of many little "things" you notice new every time you watch. This right here is what makes good movies great, and yes, this right here is something you can't get in a lousy book, which is why film beats literature, fact. A simple glimpse at the overhead plane soaring by, often overlooked by the average audience, is a motif representing the hopeful, opportunistic notion of making it out, turning a new chapter. Alright, the planes, even I'll admit, may be something that takes a few times to pick up on, but maybe this jumped off the screen a little more clearly: the lottery ticket. In my mind, the greatest motif in film, the lottery ticket is everywhere throughout Good Will Hunting. Whether literally portraying Sean Maguire's "Lucky Numbers Lottery Ticket," which is seen throughout the film, or more metaphorically representing Will's extraordinary ability to solve equations, his "ticket" to a new life, the lottery ticket is simply poetic. Iconically worded, Damon and Hunting's conversion says it all,
Will: "What do I wanna way outta here for? I'm gonna live here the rest of my f***in' life. We'll be neighbors, have little kids, take 'em to Little League up at Foley Field."
Chuckie: Look, you're my best friend, so don't take this the wrong way but, in 20 years if you're still livin' here, comin' over to my house, watchin' the Patriots games, workin' construction, I'll f***in' kill ya. That's not a threat, that's a fact, I'll f***in' kill ya.
Will: What the f*** you talkin' about?
Chuckie: You got somethin' none of us have...
Will: Oh, come on! What? Why is it always this? I mean, I f***in' owe it to myself to do this or that. What if I don't want to?
Chuckie: No. No, no no no. F*** you, you don't owe it to yourself man, you owe it to me. Cuz tomorrow I'm gonna wake up and I'll be 50, and I'll still be doin' this s***. And that's all right. That's fine. I mean, you're sittin' on a winnin' lottery ticket. And you're too much of a pussy to cash it in, and that's bullshit. 'Cause I'd do f***in' anything to have what you got. So would any of these f***in' guys. It'd be an insult to us if you're still here in 20 years. Hangin' around here is a f***in' waste of your time.
        Not only acknowledging Will's opportunity, but also admitting the unfortunate, yet inevitable reality for most of Southie's futile lives, Chuckie inspires his friend to act on his gift, cashing in his ticket to avoid becoming just another number.
        So the next time your little sister thinks Matt Damon is best "known for" his roles as Jason Bourne, and asks, "Robin Williams, isn't that that guy from Aladdin?" you can indulge them with a little decency.