So
I'm at the cinema earlier this year, watching, very possibly, The
Favourite
(if you haven't already seen it, don't) and I become aware of
something cool and damp spreading around my upper right thigh. The
first thought that goes through my head is Well,
when you get to my age, you have to expect these things. I
sit there, fairly stoically, wondering if this is going to be the
trend from now on: bus journeys, crowded lifts, standing onstage in
front of three hundred people, all the time wetting myself - when I
realise that the top of my right hand is also damp. Spooky,
I think for a time. Then, This
is really challenging my preconceptions of incontinence.
Finally
I work out that the plastic wine glass I acquired on the way in -
containing a good measure of Chilean Merlot - has a crack in it and
the contents are slowly running down my hand and onto my trousers. On
the one hand, Thank
God for that;
on the other, I
have to drink this fucking Merlot really fast before it does any more
damage AND not spill it over my shirt in the process.
So instead of tippling restfully in front of the movie, normally one
of my favourite occupations, I have to get rid of the booze as fast as if they've just called last orders, at the same time
trying to locate the area of damage while simultaneously working out
if it'll be dark outside when we leave the cinema, in order to hide
my shame. This has never happened before.
Some
days later, it occurs to me that I now invest so much expectation, so
much humble desire for a given experience when I take my drink into
the local arthouse cinema that when something goes wrong my whole
week is ruined, to an irrational degree. My whole month. I decide
that, like war, this must never happen again. But how?
-
Proper glass glasses in the cinema: almost certainly prohibited, on
account of safety (a glass gets left on the floor, is trodden on,
causes injury, panic) and public order (incredibly middle-aged,
middle class, arthouse audience riots at the wholesale witlessness of
The
Favourite,
starts throwing glass glasses at the screen). But worth keeping in
mind.
-
Tin mugs: unbreakable, not much use as a weapon, cheap and
serviceable. Not too bad for drinking wine out of, either, if the
enamel's still there, although you tend to feel like a character out
of a Hemingway novel.
-
Plastic feeding tubes which emerge from the armrests. Dial up your
favourite beverage from your phone - using the handy app - and start
drinking! Unlikely to become a reality, not in my lifetime. Also,
disgusting.
-
The Totnes solution. A couple of weeks ago, the wife and I were in
Totnes, Devon, and I can tell you that not only is Totnes a ton of
fun - picturesque, quirky and stuffed with bars and restaurants - it
also has one of the most terrific cinemas I have ever come across.
You enter through a diminutive street entrance (see pic) go along a
slightly Expressionist passageway and at last emerge into what was,
until relatively recently, a public library, now hollowed out into
barn-like space with a full-service bar, tables, chairs, sofas and
whatnot, all very companionably dotted around - and behind the bar, a
really big cinema screen. You get your drink, make yourself
comfortable at your preferred seating position and watch the film
unfold in a completely relaxed and slightly deconstructed fashion.
Genius. Not only that, but the films on offer mix the current (Rocketman,
when
we were there) with the classic (The
Blue Angel; Wages of Fear)
so that you'd have to go back every night, practically, to keep
ahead. Genius, again. Movie and drinks combine in an equivalence of
pleasure, rather than subordinating the booze to the level of mere
plastic-glass add-on. I'm sure there are other places in England that
do something similar; but it's the first time I've actually seen it.
The fact that it's still slightly a work in progress - rough-hewn
timbers, industrial nuts & bolts around the place - only makes it
more fun, more delightfully spontaneous. Back at my local bioscope, I
think they'd have difficulty tearing out the seats in order to make
enough space: but it's got to be worth looking into.
CJ
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