I'm a huge fan of the first 'Independence Day.' It is amazing.

Hear the joyful and reverent words of Maika Monroe, who declared with shining enthusiasm: “I’m a huge fan of the first ‘Independence Day.’ It is amazing. When it came out in 1995, just how explosive and big it was… I loved it.” At first, these words may seem simple — an actress praising a film she admired — yet beneath their surface lies something profound. For what Monroe celebrates is not merely a motion picture, but the power of art to inspire awe, the capacity of creation to unite the human spirit in wonder, courage, and imagination. Her admiration for ‘Independence Day’ is a reflection of something ancient within us — the eternal longing for greatness, for heroism, and for the triumph of unity over fear.

The origin of this quote reaches back to 1996, when “Independence Day”, the film directed by Roland Emmerich, swept across theaters like a comet across the night sky. It was not just a movie — it was an event, a celebration of courage and survival. The story told of humanity facing annihilation at the hands of alien invaders, and yet rising — nations united, hearts aflame, finding in shared peril the will to endure. To the eyes of a young Maika Monroe, who would later grow to embody strength and grace in her own acting, the film’s spectacle was more than explosions and heroics. It was a revelation — that storytelling, when made with heart and daring, can stir the soul of a generation.

Her words, spoken years later, reflect a truth as old as the fireside tales of our ancestors: that myth and story give shape to courage. Just as the ancient Greeks once sang of Achilles and Odysseus, so too do modern storytellers weave their myths through the lens of cinema. In “Independence Day,” the world beheld a modern epic — the fall of cities, the rallying of the human race, and the immortal speech of President Whitmore, calling all nations to stand together. When Maika Monroe says she “loved it,” she speaks not only as a fan, but as one moved by that ancient chord within the human heart — the one that sings when the impossible is faced with defiance and unity.

There is something deeply symbolic in her admiration. For just as the film’s title recalls America’s struggle for freedom, its story mirrors a larger human struggle — the fight to preserve hope amid overwhelming odds. In the age of chaos, when cynicism often overshadows wonder, Monroe’s love for “Independence Day” reminds us of the necessity of belief — belief in heroes, in redemption, in the idea that light can emerge even from destruction. The ancients called this catharsis, the purifying of the soul through awe and emotion. The explosions and grandeur that she admired were not mere spectacle; they were the external flame of an inner truth: that humanity, though fragile, is indestructible when united by purpose.

Consider how throughout history, great works of art have kindled similar feelings in their audiences. When Shakespeare’s plays first graced the stage, when Beethoven’s symphonies thundered across Europe, when the cathedrals of Paris and Florence rose toward heaven, people felt the same reverence Monroe felt for this film — a sense of awe at human creativity, a reminder that our imaginations are the truest reflection of the divine spark within us. In her words, we hear gratitude — not just for the spectacle, but for the feeling of being alive in the presence of something vast and visionary.

But there is also a quiet lesson in her reflection. To admire is not to worship blindly, but to recognize greatness and be moved to create in turn. Monroe’s career, in films such as The Guest and It Follows, shows how the admiration of one generation becomes the inspiration of another. She saw greatness, and she sought to embody it. So too must we all learn to let the brilliance of others kindle the fire within us, rather than dim it with envy or apathy. For admiration, rightly directed, is the root of ambition — and from admiration grows the courage to dream, to act, to build.

So let this be the teaching: cherish the works that move you, whether they are films, songs, or deeds of courage. Let your love for greatness become your guide toward your own creation. As Maika Monroe was stirred by the spectacle of Independence Day, so too can each of us be stirred by the beauty and boldness of the world around us. For it is through wonder that we remember who we are — not mere spectators, but makers of our own destiny. In the light of what we love, we find both our independence and our calling.

Thus, remember: what you admire, you may one day become. Let your heart, like Monroe’s, be open to wonder — for even in the glitter of a summer blockbuster, the ancient truths still whisper: that courage is contagious, that unity is strength, and that from admiration is born the eternal pursuit of the extraordinary.