Half life
Screening friends
Carole Morin
Iused to hate the cinema in Baker Street. In the confined space you feel as if you're it Mass with a few staring atheists who have nothing better to do. In the after- noon it's almost empty. Inappropriate chat and OAP popcorn fights are impossible to ignore.
A lot of people need an excuse to go to the movies in the afternoon but I'm not one of them. The problem used to be find- . ing things to see. I've been a cinema junkie long enough to know exactly what I'm not going to like.
Now I've realised there are advantages to watching a rotten movie. You don't have to pay attention, Sitting alone in the dark for almost two hours leaves you with a feeling of resurrection that's different from the blank thrill you get from concentrating really hard on a good film.
The Bridges of Madison County is the sort of thing your mum would see the first week it came out. Of course Maddie hasn't been to a movie since she picked up a flea at the Rio the day Jack Kennedy was shot. 'I can't remember the film but my neck looked like Dracula had been at it,' she used to say when there was an assassination documen- tary on television.
On my way into Bridges, I spotted my ex- best friend, Lolita, sitting in the snack bar. I would know the back of her head any- where. She changed her name to Lolita when we first started going to the Saturday Club together. I was Sophira, after the blonde in Blood for Dracula, but I outgrew the false name thing. Even though I liked Lolita when we were young, I was always suspicious of the loud way she laughed at cartoons. As soon as Ming the Merciless came on, Lolita went to fornicate in the front row with her big boyfriend, Knuckles.
Since she lives round the corner, seeing her in the local cinema wasn't really a sur- prise. But I'd been sure she'd come to see The Usual Suspects on the screen next door. I was shocked when she stumbled into Madison County, feeling her way to the front row. She didn't notice me, or pre- tended not to. Young people sit in the front row. Old people sit in the back row. The best seat is two thirds of the way down near the middle.
Two women who'd been arguing about who was going to pay for the other were at the back, muttering about Meryl and Clint, Mad Meryl's bottom has expanded since I saw her last, but it's reassuring to hear she's still using her Out of Africa accent. You know an actress is serious when she puts on a funny voice and refuses to diet.
Madison County was more engrossing than anticipated, but I was distracted all the way through by Lolita's long, luminous hair. In Fourth Year, she accused me of stealing Knucldes, but I didn't steal him; I just told everyone he's a rotten kisser. Busting up with a best friend is more final than divorce. If you've borrowed any clothes you keep them. Once you've hated someone you can't really like them again. Whereas you can loathe a cinema then become addicted to its perverse atmo- sphere.
Last time I bumped into Lolita in the Prada shop, nobody mentioned Knuckles. She told me about a friend of an enemy of ours who went out with Robbie Coltrane ages ago.
`Slim Sandra or Slinky Sadie or whatever her name is was dead embarrassed at the time, but she's kicking herself now that Robbie's a sex God,' Lolita said as I was trying on a pair of mock-croc boots.
In the olden days they used to play 'God Save the Queen' after a film. Lolita left by the Fire Exit. I went out through the snack bar, buying the Triple Fudge Brownie lolly I'd missed, hurrying to avoid her on the way in. I never get over the excitement of stumbling out into the light.
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