My Favorite Frame in the Bourne Series
& some general ttrpg/life updates.
I really like the Bourne movies. They were my first real intro to Matt Damon as an actor, other than the Ocean’s movies, and they remain the reason I have trouble watching a lot of action movies: none of them do it as good as Bourne.
I know this is mostly a blog about TTRPGs, but my life expands pretty far past that, and a lot of my design ideas and philosophy come from the vast amount of media I consume. The Bourne trilogy is something that eats at my brain, and recently, I rewatched the first two.
In the first movie, there is a shot that lasts maybe a few seconds—short enough you can easily miss it if you look away, or if you’re skipping through trying to find it using the 10 seconds ahead feature on the player. It’s nothing in the grand scheme of the movie, of the franchise. Amidst the explosions, the Krav Maga, the Gun-Fu, there’s a quiet moment, for Jason Bourne.
We view him through a window, the slats framing him, the two kids, and the dog he is with, as they play at the swing sets. Jason is on high alert, as always. He’s watching the dog, he’s attending to the kids, he’s scanning the horizon for snipers.
This is my favorite scene because of the quietness of it. You can only hear the dog barking, the clanging of dishes, the muffled words that Bourne says to the child who spins around on the rings. He will kill a man in nine minutes. Watch him bleed out on the grass as he says, “Look at what they make us give.”
I can’t help but think these two scenes, one of domesticity, the other of death, are connected. Jason Bourne obviously has a soft spot for kids, it’s something his training never really pushed out of him, as we learn about twenty minutes later. And they’ve given us this moment before the chaos. I don’t think they set this up for stakes, that Jason is protecting this family he barely knows; sure, he is, but that’s not why this scene is here.
It’s here because we want this for Bourne. No matter who he is, we know that all he wants is domesticity, kids, and this franchise is determined to rip that from his well-chiseled hands. We get to glimpse his hope, for a moment.
Another Matt Damon movie, which I mentioned earlier, is the Ocean’s franchise, one that, for at least 11 and 13, sits in my top five favorite movies to watch and rewatch. I recently saw them again, and I’m reminded of how well those movies pace. This back and forth, back and forth. The way that the camera lingers when they ask Danny Ocean: “Mr. Ocean, what do you think you would do, if released?” And we never hear his answer.
Technically, the whole movie is his answer.
I imagine Jason Bourne would show that exact scene, the window and the kids and the snow and the clinging of the dishes, minus him sweeping the horizon for snipers, if asked a question like that. We see he does exactly that, at the beginning of the second movie. But still, they won’t let him rest. The events of the second movie pull him further into the world of how he was made into who he is in the first movie, leading into the answer we get in the third.
Does Bourne: Identity work without this scene? Sure. It would still be a great action romp that makes me go “Wahoo!” but I don’t think it would stick with me the same way. It’s how the pool scene of Ocean’s 11 is, in my mind, what makes that movie really click for me. Just a short, small scene in which the characters have a little chit chat, they deliver one great line (“That’s great. Get in the goddamn house.”) and the movie goes on. It’s the back and forth, back and forth.
I actually have been thinking about this in relation to TTRPGs, and to writing in general, about how important it is to have moments of character, and not just plot. And to me, great TTRPGs and great writing, take time to build that in.
When I played D&D, in the dark days, my favorite times were when we sat at a tavern and talked. When we had moments of character, of team building, of planning. I think, largely, because I disliked everything else, but also because those are the moments that are important to me. In LARPs, those moments can feel like every moment. In story games, those moments can get lost amidst all of the other things.
As a player, as a facilitator, take time to have your moment of quietness, of domesticity. Paint a scene that feels tragic and yet hopeful and let it sit.
All this makes me think of Band-Aids & Bullet Holes, which my friend, Sam Dunnewold, designed. It’s a game about John Wick-style assassins. It’s about creating a specific feeling—the feeling that watching John Wick gives you, and I think it does a stellar job of it. It’s also a great game to practice setting these tragic yet hopeful scenes, since most of what you do in the game is set scenes.
I don’t have that much to say about the scene in Jason Bourne besides: “look at this, I love this, use this.” But I think that’s enough. So, hey, look at this. I love this. Use this. Make time for moments of quiet tragedy and burgeoning hope. When you finish a game, are you going to only have the moments of Krav Maga, Gun-Fu, and explosions, or are you going to have some moments that make you go, “Fuck, that’s good,” while your heart hurts a little bit for your character?
Be Jason Bourne. Have both.
The Part Where I Remember This Is a Newsletter
I won an Award. I don’t know how to feel about awards, but I won one. I’m excited to have been chosen by the jury. They really liked my game, Liaison, which you can grab a copy of here, for like $5, or one of the many community copies that I refresh on the regular.
In me continuously faking it ‘til I make it, I am writing this as if folks are looking forward to my game releases and would like to know what’s in the works. Here’s a little preview. I’m making a game that uses Orson Welles’ War of the Worlds broadcast as the background to a story about four to five high society ladies in 1938 New York navigating their various hopes and fears. It’ll be coming out eventually.
In other news, I’m making lots of other games, and maybe they’ll come out some time eventually whenever, who knows! In the mean time, you can always check out the other games I’ve made here.
Bestest,
Merrilee