There's an electrical thing about movies.

Hear the words of Oliver Stone, a filmmaker of fire and controversy, who declared: “There’s an electrical thing about movies.” In this simple phrase lies not mere metaphor, but a recognition of the living energy that pulses through the art of cinema. For films are not lifeless images, but currents of emotion, sparks of vision, flashes of truth that leap from the screen into the hearts of those who watch. Like lightning, they strike suddenly, charging the spirit, awakening passions long asleep, and binding together audiences as if by an unseen current.

The meaning of this quote lies in the very nature of storytelling through images. Words can persuade, music can stir, but movies—with their union of sight, sound, and rhythm—carry a power that is visceral, immediate, almost electric. They bypass the walls of reason and speak directly to the nerves, the pulse, the beating heart. When Stone speaks of an “electrical thing,” he points to this sensation: the jolt of recognition when we see our own struggles reflected, the surge of energy when a scene stirs our courage, the trembling when truth flashes before us in an image too raw to deny.

Consider the tale of 1967, when Bonnie and Clyde exploded onto screens. Audiences felt not just entertained but electrified—shocked by the violence, dazzled by the daring, shaken by the mingling of beauty and brutality. That film marked a revolution in American cinema, igniting new movements of style and daring. It was not received as quiet art but as a storm, a surge of electricity that transformed what movies could be. Such is the force Stone speaks of: not a passive glow, but a lightning strike that alters the landscape.

The electrical quality of cinema also lies in its power to unite. In a darkened theater, hundreds sit as strangers, yet at the climax of a film, their hearts beat together. They laugh as one, weep as one, sit breathless in silence as one. Just as a current flows through many wires to power a single flame, so does the current of cinema bind countless souls into one experience. Nations divided by language or custom may yet be moved by the same image, for electricity knows no borders, and neither does the language of film.

Yet, like electricity, this power can also destroy if misused. A film can manipulate, spreading falsehood with the same intensity that it spreads truth. It can stir hatred as easily as love, fear as easily as hope. The ancients warned of fire: that it can cook the meal or burn the home. So too with this electricity of movies—it must be wielded with wisdom, with care, with a sense of responsibility for the currents it sends coursing through the hearts of men.

The lesson is this: do not underestimate the power of the stories you consume or the stories you tell. Be aware of the energy they send into your spirit. Choose films that electrify you toward courage, compassion, and awareness, not those that numb you or fill you with despair. And if you are a creator, remember that every frame is a spark, every scene a current that will ripple into the world. Ask yourself: will this electricity light the way, or scorch the earth?

So, children of the future, carry this wisdom with you: honor the electrical power of cinema, for it is one of the great forces of our age. Use it not idly, but with reverence. Let it awaken you, let it bind you to others, let it remind you that within every human soul there is a wire waiting to be charged with meaning. And as Oliver Stone proclaimed, there truly is something electrical about movies—for they are not shadows on a wall, but lightning in the human heart.