Since I am emotionally about fourteen years old, I enjoy the Jason Bourne spy movies.

Bourne is an American intelligence assassin so thoroughly trained by his handlers that he can’t remember his real name.

I love the Jason Bourne car chases, the motorcylce chases, the moped chases, the snipers and hitmen he foils, the locales in Europe and New York City, the deft leaps from rooftop to rooftop or from high suspension bridges into any river you’d care to name. I also enjoy, to be honest, the fight scenes, especially the one where Damon’s Bourne subdues his would-be killer with a rolled-up newspaper.

AND Bourne can speak at least five languages effortlessly, has a secret Swiss bank account—no one has ever offered me a secret Swiss bank account, and wherever he is—Istanbul, Moscow, Amsterdam, Madrid, Paris, Berlin, London, New York City—you want to be there, too. Without the killers, of course.

Damon is a wonderful actor (Yes, I’ll grant you Good Will Hunting, but that’s because of Robin Williams, too) but his turn as a stranded astronaut in The Martian is my favorite. It includes the immortal line I’m gonna have to science the shit out of this, when Damon realizes how chancy his survival is. It helps that he uses his own poop to fertilize the potatoes that sustain him.

Having acknowledged what a fine actor Damon is, I think that this young woman, Oksana Akinshina, is even better. The emotions that cross her face are kaleidoscopic—terror, disbelief, shock, grief.

There is also a fleeting moment, when she smiles, that shows she is sympathetic. That’s indelible.

Our niece Emily, lives in Brooklyn and works the usual three-plus jobs so that she can earn food and rent money between auditions.

Emily can act like this. She is brilliant and brave, and I am so proud of her..