Project Hail Mary IMAX 70mm screening:
If you’re a film nerd, you already know this: there are movies you watch, and then there are movies you experience. And from the looks of it, Project Hail Mary is shaping up to be firmly in the second category—especially in IMAX 70mm.
A photo making the rounds online, captured straight from the projection room by Taylor Umphenour, gives a rare behind-the-scenes glimpse at what that experience actually looks like. It’s not the polished, perfectly framed marketing shot you’d expect from a studio. Instead, it’s something far better—raw, mechanical, and oddly beautiful.
You can see the IMAX film strip running through the projector, that massive 70mm print feeding frame by frame in a way that instantly reminds you just how physical cinema used to be—and still can be, when filmmakers insist on it. There’s a tactile quality to it that digital just can’t replicate, no matter how sharp or convenient.
And honestly, that’s part of why this image has struck a chord.
In an era where most screenings are delivered via hard drives and satellites, seeing Project Hail Mary projected the “old-school” way feels almost rebellious. It signals intent. Effort. A kind of respect for the theatrical experience that goes beyond just releasing a film on the biggest screens possible.
It also hints at the scale we can expect. You don’t go through the trouble of IMAX 70mm unless you’re trying to immerse the audience completely—pull them into the vastness of space, make them feel the isolation, the spectacle, the silence.
And let’s be real: sci-fi is where this format truly flexes.
There’s something poetic about pairing a story set in the infinite expanse of space with one of the most grand, analog formats ever created. It’s like using something tangible and mechanical to tell a story about the unknown.
Of course, not everyone will get to see it this way—IMAX 70mm screenings are still relatively rare and limited to select locations. But even knowing that the format exists for this film changes the conversation a bit. It turns Project Hail Mary into more than just another big release. It becomes an event.
That projection room photo? It’s a reminder of what goes on behind the curtain—the whirring machines, the precision, the craft. And in a strange way, it builds anticipation not just for the film itself, but for the act of watching it.
Because sometimes, how you see a movie matters just as much as the movie you’re seeing.
