Last night I took a rare opportunity to head to the movies. Actually that’s not true, I go to the cinema fairly often but since it’s the beginning of the year and there’s that whole big hole in my bank account at the moment I haven’t been out much lately. Earlier in the day there was discussion about what would be the best \ most interesting movie to see and since my movie buddy has one of those Monthly-I-have-no-life passes he’d seen pretty much everything there was on offer. Also time was an issue as I had to work late yesterday evening and didn’t hit town until after 7.
I could say that this is the reason we ended up watching ‘Cache’ but truth be told we’d half decided on it before we got to the cinema. ‘A Cock and Bull Story’ was on at the ridiculous time of 6.30 and ‘A Bittersweet Life’ which looks kinda interesting was on at 10.45 or something. I can’t remember what issues we had with ‘Munich’ other than my wondering if Spielberg had one of the Mossad noticably running around in a red coat.
So we ended up at ‘Cache’.
Now before I start to talk about the movie I want to talk about something very near and dear to my heart. The subject of cinema ettiquette. At this stage we all know, or should be aware of the usual things that drive Eli to distraction when watching a movie: People scrumpling plastic sweet wrappers, mobile phones ringing, people talking, fidgeters, seat-kickers, heavy breathers and the weak bladdered. Here’s a tip honey, DON’T BUY THE SUPER EXTRA HUGE GUZZLER size of soda if you are going to be up and down from your seat every five minutes. But besides this I have a theory which runs pretty much similar to to a theory a trolly dolly friend of mine told me about his passengers. It runs thus: There are two types of passenger, the first arrives at the airport in plenty of time, checks in, strolls leisurely to the departure lounge and relaxes with a beer or a cup of coffee until boarding. The second arrives at the check-in desk with minutes to spare and heads directly for the boarding gate, often being the last one on the plane. Well so it is with moviegoers. I know people who detest watching trailers and insist on entering the cinema after the lights have gone down and finding a seat at the very last minute. Me, I prefer to be in my seat with my popcorn \ drink etc ready to hand before the lights go down. My coat off, and seated comfortably eager for the start of the show.
So to the couple who came in late to the cinema last night, walked down the row and gestured at me to stand up so they could sit in the two seats directly to my left I say FUCK YOU. The following 10 minutes were pure hell as they plopped coats, drinks, bags and popcorn into their seats, and arranged themselves comfortably. It didn’t stop there, gentle reader. Of course it didn’t. Halfway through the movie SHE started the old ‘girlie-doesn’t-understand-the-plot’ trick.
‘Honeeeey, who’s that?’
‘Honeeeey, is that the same guy from the first scene?’
‘What’s happening now?’
This accompanied with yelps, screams and hiding under her jacket. Of course she was also an arm-rest burglar which is just the rudest thing, especially when I was the first one in the seat.
The movie itself was alright. It’s a French thriller, which resulted in lots of static shots, pregnant pauses, interminable silences while people performed meaningless stage business and Juliette Binoche sans make-up. Okay look, I’m being harsh here, the plot of the movie rests on the fact that the main character Georges is receiving video tapes which show nothing more than the street outside his house. The director has entwined these video’s with scenes where his characters do nothing much at all so that as a viewer you are no longer sure where the voyeurism ends and the movie begins. As for the ending, well, lets just say I am not a fan of the Frank Stockton school of plot-writing. Not that I’m the type of person who requires an definite ending to a movie or book, I’m not saying that I need to be TOLD how I should think a story ends. I’m all for leaving a plot open to interpretation, but generally I like the director to have his own interpretation on what he thinks the real story might be, and to tip his hat in that direction. I’ve read reviews of the movie this morning where the director admits he hasn’t a clue what the real story is. Erego the lazy ‘Lady or the Tiger’ ending. It’s a step up from the ‘And then she woke up’ conclusion, which itself is a cop out. Saying that I now have to go and eat my words as the only time I have ever seen ‘And then she woke up’ work was in ‘The Wake’ Neil Gaiman’s final arc of the Sandman series. But I digress.
Anyway, even with all this negative thought on the plot I have to say the leads were impeccable in their portrayal of a middle-aged couple undergoing the stress of something they don’t fully understand. It’s one worth seeing on the big screen, only because trapped in the cinema you are forced to sit and confront some truly horrific images. If you wait a while and rent it on DVD or catch it on late-night telly, you’ll probably be bored rigid with the terrible silences.