Thinking about what to call these lockdown reminiscences – about films and cinemas – I was reduced to googling the full lyrics to Memory as a joke. It turns out they’re worryingly apt, so we may yet find that Cats becomes the voice of cinephiles rather than their punchline. That’s one hell of a “new normal”, but then nothing surprises me any more.
One of the worries about Lockdown is that the collective cinematic experience will be lost. I doubt that will happen – for something we watch in the dark while all facing the same way it’s a remarkably social activity – though certainly at the start of Unlock, for many people the worry will outweigh its pull.
Unsurprisingly Cinematic Lockdown is involving a lot of longing looks back (which doesn’t have to mean the dim and distant past – I have fond memories of eating a My Spy cupcake while watching My Spy at a London press screening in March, even if the actual film wasn’t that memorable).
Writer Tracey Sinclair and I have both written about film watches from various points in our lives that have stuck in our minds:
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