I’ve always loved going to the cinema. If you’re serious about watching films, there really is nothing quite as good as watching them on a big screen in an auditorium designed specifically for that purpose. For many, it’s a shared experience providing a much-needed opportunity to meet up and spend time with friends. Much as I enjoy the social aspects of it too, the real joy of going to the cinema for me is the very thing which represents the downside for others. It will probably come as no surprise to you that I relish the prospect of sitting in a darkened room for hours on end without talking to anybody else, and ultimately forgetting the world outside. Cinema for me is essentially a solitary and escapist experience.
Given my voracious appetite for, and somewhat offbeat taste in films, I tend to go to the cinema alone. I’m also used to being one of only a handful of people in the auditorium. Even though there may be other people physically in the same space, mentally I’m nowhere near them and that’s how I like it to be. Ideally, I’ll be the only person in the auditorium. If you haven’t experienced it, there’s something quite special about being alone in a cinema. On the one hand, it’s slightly eery to be in a place designed to accommodate a large number of people. On the other hand it’s relaxing and more than a little liberating.
Until yesterday afternoon, my last visit to the cinema was in February 2020. Despite enjoying everyday life in lockdown more than I care to mention, one of the biggest downsides of it for me was not being able to visit my local cinema, the Rio in Dalston. I felt a strong sense of loss as a result of not being able to watch films in a proper auditorium and made a note to visit the Rio if and when, fingers crossed, it emerged from lockdown. Given how much has changed since then, it feels like another world, and one that in some ways I’ve almost forgotten. I can’t even remember what I went to see.
Whilst the Rio’s doors were closed, I was able to stream films on my television and computer, and more than happily did my bit by supporting independent cinema that way. I’ve been impressed by the ingenuity demonstrated by businesses that are reliant on physical interaction with customers in adapting to the new normality of Covid-19. New streaming services have popped up, including one which enables smaller cinemas to benefit from the price of streaming a film at home. What it means to go to the cinema has changed subtly too. It is now possible not only to support your local independent cinema without visiting it in person, but also to support cinemas that are hundreds of miles away. Whenever I visit friends in Sydney, I go to a fantastic cinema called the Dendy about 5 minutes down the road from their house in Newtown. I love the idea of being able to support it by watching films here in the UK.
Despite the Rio opening its doors again a couple of weeks ago, it wasn’t until fairly recently that I felt comfortable enough even to think about going back there to watch a film in person. My own journey out of lockdown has been bumpier than I anticipated and has involved a realisation of the importance of time spent outside my flat and physical interaction with other people. It has also involved an appreciation not only of the efforts of businesses to create covid-secure environments, but also of my responsibility as a customer in helping them to get back on their feet and foster a new sense of normality. My visit to the Rio marked an important step in that process.
I was struck not only by the subtlety and effectiveness of the modifications designed to make the Rio covid-secure, but also the professionalism and efficiency of the staff in making me feel safe. The booking system allows you to choose where you want to sit, but automatically blocks out seats in front, behind and either side of your seat, meaning that you know that you’ll be safely distanced from anyone else in the auditorium, and that there will be a manageable number of people milling around. The start times for films in different screens have also been staggered to minimise the number of people in the foyer. In the space of about 5 minutes, I arrived at the cinema, waited outside in the fresh air for the screen to open, had my temperature checked while I sanitised my hands, and then took my seat. I was in the foyer for about a minute and didn’t have a chance to feel awkward or anxious. Overall, the experience was friendly, reassuring and incredibly efficient. A reduced range of snacks is available, which you order online when booking your ticket and collect when you arrive. Unfortunately, it doesn’t extend to home-made chocolate brownies, samosas or sausage rolls at the moment, but every cloud has a silver lining and Greggs is just down the road for a cheeky pre-performance purchase which can easily be built into my itinerary. As for the auditorium itself, it was a cinemagoer’s (and an introvert’s) paradise. Bags of space, no-one obscuring your view by sitting in front of you or disturbing you by looking at their mobile phone during the performance, arriving late, talking loudly or rustling sweet wrappers, and an opportunity to forget the world outside. The only slight downside was the rather confusing one-way system which didn’t work particularly well. Nevertheless the fact that there were very few people in the auditorium meant that it wasn’t a practical issue. In any event, I’ve got time to work it out between now and my next visit.
I genuinely wish the Rio and all other small independent cinemas well and hope that they make enough money from the films people watch via new streaming services to make up for the money they will no doubt be losing from the face-to-face side of their business. Given that despite all the measures put in place the Rio hasn’t increased the price of a ticket, I feel it’s my responsibility as a customer to help it out by watching more films. Someone’s got to do it and I don’t need much of an excuse to sit quietly on my own in a darkened room for a couple of hours without talking to anybody else.
In case you’re wondering, I went to see Tenet, the latest film directed by Christopher Nolan. It’s a hugely enjoyable action thriller that plays with time and more than a little with your head as you try to unravel a plot in which time is portrayed as a matter of perspective, moving forwards for some people and yet backwards for others whose “entropy” has been reversed in an effort to wreak havoc in the present by altering the past. It’s an intelligent and very well-made film which requires you to suspend disbelief and go with the flow, even if that means accepting that some people will be going against it at any particular point, or at least that’s how you will perceive it. Given how much life in lockdown has messed up my own appreciation of the passage of time, it turned out to be a lot easier to suspend disbelief in that respect than you might think.
You can tell that you’ve seen a good film when any confusion at the end results from it being thought-provoking rather than badly put together, and causes you to want to watch it again. Tenet is definitely worth watching again for that reason. What makes it stand out, however, is that it might make more sense next time if it were played backwards. In the film, those who have been “inverted” find that their perception of time and the sequence of events changes irreversibly. Given the life-changing nature of the past six months, Tenet feels bizarrely relevant. As well as being the perfect film to watch as I reacquainted myself with my local cinema, it worked extremely well as a metaphor (albeit an unwitting one) for my own experience of lockdown, the process of adjustment to the new normality of Covid-19, and ultimately for life as an introvert often at odds with the social flow.
What I learned today... 