Anyway, loads of people are writing about their top stuff/deconstructing what happened in the decade. It just so happens all these happened in this decade, so lets say I am riding that bandwagon. (I'm not - and not because I think I'm above bandwagons - I just think I can stretch that out and write another blog about it).
So quite the opposite. I am in fact a bandwagon fiend. (That's actually not true either). (I am cautious about bandwagons but aware that even an anti-bandwagon stance is still technically a form of bandwagoning, and don't want to appear hypocritical). Or at least if I do, I want to be able to claim a shred of irony anyway.
Anyway.
In at no. 5:
Watchmen at the I-max.
Very big screen (obviously) and all the better to see a giant blue cock on. That is how I get off. Also great film. Also I read the book/comic/graphic novel, so if I wanted I could preen smugly 'yah, just not as good as the original, but a valiant attempt,' or some such, but I wont, as I actually thought it was a very good translation. Apart from the bit where they ruined the ending. And despite the fact that I could never do better, I get to judge them for that.
No.4
Iris at Vue in Norwich
I went to see this as a couple of friends I didn't know that well were, and I wasn't really sure what to expect. They had brought tissues as well as pop corn, (which was a new and suspicious thing for me, as I had previously only brought pop corn to the cinema before). I may have even made a couple of jokey comments about the presence of the tissues.
It soon became apparent why there was a need for them, and I spent a great deal of the film balling my eyes out. (Quietly) (I had respect for the other, equally sniffy patrons). I had to keep taking my friends tissues, which I think amused her, as I had been so sniffy (ha ha) about them in the first place.
It was a weird experience being able to cry freely in a cinema like that (because the people I was with were doing it too, and if anything had instigated this cry fest) but impressive that a film can do that to you. It is not very often that a cinematic experience can move you to tears, let alone sustain them throughout nearly the whole film. I felt like a proper girl. (And was pleased to be living up to the crying girl stereotype).
No. 3
Tideland at the Curzon
Brilliant choice to see this in the middle of the day like I did, if you can't afford drugs (which I can't) though that wasn't my motivation at the time. I went in and it was daylight, I came out and it was daylight, but somewhere in between those two things, the universe tricked me and chewed me up and spat me out, leaving me wondering what day it was. I came out feeling highly disorientated and like I'd been on a walking journey for two years. Nothing seemed real. It was really weird.
Of course I had actually been on a magical journey through a displaced ten year olds imagination, expressed with surreal fantasy set against devastating reality. A fantastic film. A fantastic cinema experience. It passed the 'I nearly got hit by a bus afterwards because I was still really pre-occupied with the film' test. Though I'm not sure that's what Terry Gilliam was going for. Though he would be the lead in that genre when it takes off. Plus there was a cool foreword/intro type thing at the beginning by him, which I enjoyed.
No. 2
Pan's Labyrinth also at Curzon (then again in Bournemouth, but not as good there as they got the lighting wrong and it was too dark).
Just one of the most gripping cinematic experiences I have ever had. (The first time, at the Curzon). I forgot I was in a cinema.
I was totally swept away with the drama and the tension, and rooting for the heroes and hating the villains, and frustrated by the genuine and true ills of society, and delighted by the fantasy aspects. Plus the monster is officially the scariest monster that has ever been conceived of by man or beast. Good god that was a fantastic monster.
Also, when I re-saw it, there was a bit I thought had happened about half way through, but it happened in the first five minutes, which I always think is the sign of a good film, when it tricks you with time. Epic, amazing experience.
No. 1
Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire at the Odeon in Leicester Square the first night of opening.
I saw this film while sitting next to a man who may have been homeless. He was quite smelly and had a long white beard, and a posh voice. I thought he might be a Shakespearean actor that had fallen on hard times.
When the curtains drew back the (sold out, opening night, comprised largely of children) audience clapped and cheered, and the man nudged my companion and said, 'There. You see? When do you ever get that kind of reaction to a film starting?' as if they were mid way through a conversation. My companion just nodded politely, and refrained from saying, 'probably at any fan-filled Harry Potter film'.
When Rita Skeeter first appeared on the screen, he booed, shook his fist and shouted 'You bitch!' as if he was at grown-up panto, or just trying to demonstrate to the rest of the audience whose side he was on (again, not caring at all that he was surrounded by children).
When Cedric Diggory died he wept distraughtly [NB apologies if you hadn't seen it, but in all fairness, if you haven't, seriously, where the hell have you been? It's not even the most current one]
But basically, this man seemed to get more from this film than all the children sitting there put together. He experienced the highs and the lows to crushing and euphoric degrees. He may have been unhinged, but if a man in his 60's can get that much out of the experience of going to the cinema to see a child's film then cinema is truly doing it's job.
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