Archives for posts with tag: film

I really love going to the cinema, in fact it’s one of the few activities I actually prefer doing on my own. It’s an experience I can completely own for myself.

I love that my local cinema sells home-made cakes. I love that you can buy a cup of tea, and take it into the actual room they show the film. It feels like the most exciting thing, like settling down in front of the telly at home, but your telly has suddenly grown exponentially, and it’s now in a huge room that smells like popcorn and darkness.

I love going in the daytime, because it still feels like I’m skipping work, even when I’m not. On those rare occasions it’s just me in the cinema it feels like a private showing, and it feels special. When I go through the doors, and there’s no one else there my heart sometimes skips a beat because I know there’s a chance that this magical event might happen today.
I then stare at the door, willing people not to come in, until the room goes completely dark and the screen lights up.

When that light first bathes my face I can’t help but squint sometimes, but then I force my eyes open wide, because I don’t want to miss anything. I even like the adverts.
Years ago, I used to go to the cinema with my then girlfriend at the time, and we’d play this game when the adverts came on.
She’d look round to me, her face half flushed with light, and whisper “the next one is you”.
We’d both sit there waiting for the next advert, like softly shining fortune tellers, bathed in celluloid light, waiting for the runes to show themselves in the medium of the next advertisement.
She’d laugh if I got a car advert. We both knew they were the worst thing to be, artificial, shallow and filled with machismo.
Even now, when I go to the cinema on my own, I still play this game, whispering to myself “the next one is you”, hoping for something beautiful to reveal itself on the big screen.

I love the sound. I love how loud it is. I love how it makes my bones vibrate, my heart squeeze tight. I love how I sometimes find myself holding my breath as the glorious, enveloping noise covers me, like a crashing wave, overwhelming and yet fleeting, leaving me wishing for more.

You could get all this by going to the cinema with someone, and a shared thing can be something amazing, but there’s a bit of me that doesn’t want to share this with someone.
I want to feel my hairs stand up on my arms, my breath to become shallow and held, my eyes to feel like they can’t take everything in fast enough, my ears to become numb with the sound. I want this, and I want this to be for me alone.

You can ask me to go to the cinema, and I will love going with you, but once those lights go down, and the images flicker across the screen, there’s a good chance that although I’ll be in that seat next to you, I won’t actually be there. I’ll be hurtling through space, sailing the seas, leading the charge, saving the world, one lost moment at a time.

I was kind of hoping this film would strike more cords with me, what with the 40 thing, but it really didn’t. Maybe I’m not as 40ish as I think I am. ( this is good, this is my 40, not This Is 40’s forty )

 
Being forty sucks,
it’s because you feel it should.
Actually it’s fine.
 
 
 

Another film, another haiku. This one was tricky to write well, still not sure about the last line but it does kind of work so i’m going with it……

Tigers are tricky
to share a boat with, Pi does
commendably though..

So, another Haiku, about another film about how depressing love is. Lovefilm is sending me some frankly bleak films at the moment. God job my love life is so fulfilled at the moment *sob*

Sex and death create
disjointed sorrow, in the
defiant sixties.

When i’m not being angsty about love, i also watch films. I could, if I was inclined, write reviews of these films, but the reviews would most probably consist of “I liked this film, it was great because it had horses in it and there was good stuff that happened”.
Not really up to scratch i’m sure you’ll agree.
So instead, in the first of a sort of ongoing series, i’m going to write haikus instead. Movie Haiku yay!

I’m sure its been done before, but I very much doubt its been done with such little regard for the traditions of both haiku writing, and film reviewing. Yeah.
Anyhow, first up is the beautifully shot, but very depressing 2012 version of Wuthering Heights.

Heathcliff and Cathy
have bad times on sublime moors
love is bleak as fuck

 

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