A Little Cinema

Tut tut, my first week of blogging and already I have hit a technical snag: my phone and my computer are no longer speaking. I don't exactly know why they have fallen out, but they have. I do not own a digital camera (in fact, I own very few gadgets which could be described as "digital", not because I'm trying to be all trendy and vintage, just because I am usually in a state of mild impoverishment and I'd rather spend my money in the pub than in Currys). This means I cannot show you any new pictures! I skipped out into the sunshine on my lunchbreak last Thursday and took photos of some of my favourite buildings in Bath town centre to share with you. Then on Friday morning I snapped some of the gorgeous places I pass every day on my little walk into work, also with the intention of showing you (and making you a little jealous, of course). Alas, it was not to be. I am actually due an upgrade on my phone, but I have currently lost my voice, and am therefore in no fit state to fend off the jargonistic advances of a mobile phone salesman, so it will have to wait a few days.

Fear not, I do have a few old snaps saved on my antique laptop which may be of interest, but in the meatnime I thought I would tell you about a few fantastic films I've seen recently.

But wait, first I should introduce you to my cinema: The Little Theatre.

(I borrowed this picture from Visit Bath.co.uk, I hope they don't mind!)

The UK's oldest independent cinema, it was originally a "theatre for the underpriviledged of Bath", which was converted to a cinema in the 1930s by a husband and wife team of "community theatre pioneers" (great job title!). There is a lovely article on the history of the venue here, if you like that sort of thing (it includes a visit from Haile Selassie and a nod to Ghostbusters).

My annual Little Theatre membership was one of my first Bath investments. Incidentally, I have a lifetime membership to the Prince Charles Cinema in London - a very similar establishment (I couldn't resist signing up to a lifetime membership; repeat, a LIFETIME!). Both the Little Theatre and the Prince Charles are cosy: only two small screens apiece, and nice comfy chairs. You can sit in the front row and pretend you're at home (well, in that dream home of yours that contains a private cinema). But most importantly (more important, even, than the fact that their tickets and their tea are very reasonably priced) they are both independently-run, and they like to show independent films.

This weekend we went to see Micmacs: an absolute joy from the team that gave me one of my all time favourites, Amelie. Equally whimsical, it features mechanical dancing puppets made out of junk, a human cannonball, and some gleeful espionage. Just brilliant.

I usually go to the cinema on my own. I use it as an excuse to pass the time while The American is in the studio or at work, but secretly, I love going by myself: I can blub and sniff away entirely unabashed. I am getting very sentimental in my old age, I will cry at just about anything these days: adverts, makeover programmes; I'm hopeless. Last week I went to see A Single Man. Now, I haven't seen Crazy Heart, and I'm sure Jeff Bridges thoroughly deserved his Best Actor Oscar and all, but I'd bet my pants that he couldn't break my heart like the lovely lovely Colin Firth did in A Single Man. Devastating. Oh, and Tom Ford as a director? Well, I propose that all fashion designers should make movies henceforth. It was GORGEOUS. Delicious, even. Like Mad Men, I just wanted to drink it. Or, coincidentally, like Far From Heaven. Isn't Julianne Moore just awesome? If you haven't seen A Single Man yet, take it from me, she makes just as good a British 1960s fag hag as she does a repressed 1950s housewife. My kinda girl.

Gosh, this has turned into quite a long post! I was going to rave about An Education and Nowhere Boy as well, but I'm sure you have work to do. Suffice to say, they both look fantastic, the performances are outstanding, and I thoroughly blubbed my way through them both.