Cinemas are getting a bit smug, aren’t they? I mean, Hollywood always has been – hosting half a dozen lavish awards ceremonies a year, making a steady stream of love letters to itself, paving an entire street with names such as Kermit the Frog and Hoot Gibson (once a big name in cowboy films, to save you Googling) – but now it’s the turn of the modern multiplex, reinvented in ads and ident film sequences as a sort of hallowed, liminal space of infinite possibilities.
“We come to this place … to be reborn,” murmurs Nicole Kidman, staring beatifically up at a slow-mo scene from Wonder Woman in an ad for the popular US chain AMC. “Heartbreak feels good in a place like this.” Elsewhere, there’s endless talk of surrendering yourself to the wonder and illusion of cinema, with the Odeon nudging the whole thing to its natural conclusion by having a fully behatted magician in its marketing. As far as I can work out, he’s advertising comfy seats.
I can’t fault cinemas too much for this: I’m sure they’re having a hard time, what with it being possible to watch almost any film ever made on any number of the magical devices we carry around everywhere. My problem with it is that it’s so far removed from the actual experience of going to the cinema: the anxiety about getting a good seat, the irritation when someone in front of you breaks out a packet of crisps, the old fight-or-flight response kicking in when you see the flash of a phone screen mid-show. Tellingly, Kidman’s alone in a cavernous theatre during her ode to its ethereal charms. Were she sitting behind a gang of chatty teenagers, wondering whether to Say Something, she’d look a lot less calm.
That’s why my proposed solution for cinemas is simple: lean into what you’re good at. “Cinemas: great for when you simply can’t face another day at the trampoline park,” maybe, or “Cinemas: the one place nobody’s going to judge you for eating a bag of pick n mix at 10am.” Or get Florence Pugh or someone similar to do the nuclear option: “Come to the cinema: the one place you absolutely aren’t allowed to look at work emails for at least two hours.” Quite honestly, that one does feel a bit like magic: no top hat required.
• Joel Snape is a writer and fitness expert
