Sunday, November 21, 2004
I rang the friend. Would I like to go to cinema? Would I like to go to see the new Bridget Jones film, with her, one of her younger sisters, and her sister's friends?
Now that's mean, letting me answer yes to the first question, and then sneaking in the second. But hey, at least going out on a Saturday night is slightly more credible than staying in and watching Moulin Rouge, simply because it is the only thing on television.
The only problem is that last weekend I did that, near enough, although it was a different film which I sat and watched on my own whilst nursing hot chocolate. And what was that film? Bridget Jones's Diary, the first time round. What's the point of even attempting credibility with that on my record?
But fortunately the organisational skills of eighteen-year-old girls saved me. In that we only just got to the cinema in time for the 6:30 showing. But the friends hadn't. And then we notice that the film is on every hour. Drat.
But there might be a way out yet, as the friends are wending their ways by all manner of public transport, which round here means at least one will be very late. And of course the modern marvel of mobile technology is doing a great amount to improve the situation, as it allows each friend to and provisos and continuously monitor the status of this grouping and of others. So we end up with people giving demands like "If the film will finish before 9, then I'll come, but only if X isn't there, although if Y is coming then we could do A or B, and then... So if you're buying tickets, then get enough, but I might not come".
Some people just a slap [metaphorically and comedically, lest the newbies get the wrong idea]. In my day it was much easier. Did I just use "in my day"? Golly! Anyway, reverting, it was much easier as either you were there, or you weren't, and only those who are there can come. Admittedly it did mean lots of people missed lots of things, through not being told about the emerging event in the first place, but...maybe it wasn't so great way back when.
So we decide to go into the next screening. And the we notice the A4 sheet behind the head of the guy on the desk, and which is frequently obscured by the queue. Ah, it's sold out, and as the sheet also mentions the 10:15 am showing of another film was sold out, I'm guessing it had been since the day before. Oh well. Back outside to consult the poster displaying the times of various films. I don't know why the Odeon stick the nearest copy of the most informative article in the place outside. But in sleet, it's not really the best way to improve customer satisfaction. Hang on, it's the Odeon, they don't care about such silly things, as they know they've got a monopoly.
Through subtle manipulation, and a freak occurrence of people who have seen the rest of the films on offer, we settle on The Incredibles. Dispatching the sister to buy tickets, complete with the obligatory "How much?" from me. It's now £6.90 for me. I need to become a student again, and even then it's over £5. Which is silly considering in few years that's what it'll cost on DVD.
The friend and I set off to buy over-priced food. Well she does, and I end up carrying. She seems bemused by my inability to get served popcorn. For once it wasn't just them overlooking me, as the guy serving gave a girl a small portion, which the manager then said they couldn't serve. Apparently the smallest of the tubs are only for chips. The mother didn't believe this. Big row. Eventually the mother buys the smallest proper size portion they do, even though by this stage the child is admitting she doesn't really want popcorn. And then it's my turn, and the guy has been dismissed to move boxes. The woman then very nearly tries decanting the popcorn in a chip box into a larger box for me. She must be psychic, as she then decides not to.
One advantage of accompanying a friend, her sister and hangers on, is that the friend then pays for everything. Ok, so if I'd known she was going to do this, then I wouldn't have been so puritanical about bring a bottle of water and some Polos with me. Did I just give away that I come from a long line of misers?
The sister gets back with the tickets. Only they are not together. There are two pairs and one single. So 5 tickets, one big tub of popcorn. Er? The friend and I both have the same cunning plan, and liberate some of the cups for drinks. Decanting begins, and we come to realise just how little there really is in a large. Coincidentally either 18 year old girls are remarkably selfish, or they are hopeless of at evenly dividing anything. Judging by the breast flashes flung in my direction, I think it may have been the former. It's just a shame I'm immune to industrial strength flirting, and that she seemed to have forgotten that thrusting cleavage isn't all that effective when buried under many bulky layers.
Leaving the sister and co outside to await the last member of the coven, the friend and I went. Which is when we noticed that "diagonally next to each other" has a slightly different meaning for some people. The tickets said the same number, only one was row D and one G. Oh well.
So I watched the film sitting next to the father of a family filling the row. Incidentally the children cheered slightly too much whenever anyone died.
As for the film itself, well first there were the adverts. A huge cavalcade of things I haven't heard of. And then they mention a film of the Magic Roundabout, with a ridiculously implausible cast.
Next came the traditional Pixar short, this time called Boundin' and a lot more cheerful than the one with the snowdome. It reminded me curiously of that Honda advert [hate something, change something. Flash version: click see the film], so I wonder what they both draw from. BTW, anyone else also like the Citroen C4 ad? Which is odd, as I never liked Transformers. Although I do expect the car to start shooting and not dancing.
Then the film. Silly, fun, good, but not great. I have a hunch the makers might just have seen a Bond film or two, and the occasional episode of the Thunderbirds.
Post film and after brief journey in a car that was not the amazing steam engine car, but just seemed like it, and we arrive in Tweeton. The friend and her sister [and I apparently] are going the "Cheap and soulless"(TM) Whetherspoons, to meet their brother, who's celebrating some from of anniversary with his girlfriend. Quite why anyone should wish to have siblings and hangers-on appear when they are alone with their girlfriend on their anniversary, er, ay well, it's that family.
Of course once the friend and her brother are seated at the same table, and he had been drinking before we arrived, the inevitable unpredictably happened. The play-fighting began, except this family use rhetoric as slaps. I think the brother might have triggered by mentioning the centrality of female genitalia to Alien, and the Oedipus complex to something I didn't hear.
Being that family, both siblings always have to have the last word. So if you happened to be someone on the neighbouring table, wondering why two people [and occasionally me] were arguing about whether the world would be better without humans, then I can only apologise for confusing the hell out you.
It was quite though. Friend and brother batting each other [the sister winning as the brother was stuck in highly subjective terms], the younger sister occasionally complaining she is bored, and the girlfriend trying to be included. The girlfriend might have come of better if she'd kept quiet, or following the younger sister's course, as she kept trying to join in, worried it was a real argument, and making arguments herself which just weren't on the same level. Judging by the siblings' reactions, I think they knew this.
And then back out into the bitter night, but deciding to chance walking home over being given a lift, as the younger sister would be doing the driving. The elder sister's driving has a reputation. So a less experienced version with only a provisional license, and the elder sister to guide her? It's not that cold...
Anyhoo,
