Friday 24 January 2014

Film: The Spiral Staircase

I decided to go to The Night of the Hunter tonight, in the BFI. But I hadn't booked it, and despite earlier having seemed not to be selling out, sold out it was, when I arrived. Next on my list showing tonight was The Spiral Staircase, at the same venue a couple of hours later. So I bought a ticket for that instead, getting one of the few remaining, and took myself down to Eat, just a couple of minutes away, to do just that.

I didn't want a full meal, given that I didn't have that much time, and it was convenient. I hadn't tried them before, and found them fine - particularly the very nice chocolate and caramel crispie bar. I had a hot chocolate because it was so cold and miserable out, and was now raining, but my! what is it about this part of the world that they can't produce decent hot chocolate?! I used to live in Canada, and in both Vancouver and Montreal have had the most wonderful hot chocolate. Including out of machines. Why is it that here, they must remove all the flavour? Two sachets of sugar and it still wasn't right..

I made it back in plenty of time, and took my seat as soon as I saw the cinema was open. Ah, those nice comfy, plush seats.. This is part of the BFI's Gothic Season, which ends this month - about time I saw something in it! So is The Night of the Hunter, BTW. Had time to read the film notes, where I read that the cinematographer was the same that worked on Cat People - a terrific recommendation, and indeed the lighting in this was excellent.

The introduction to the film was given by a fellow who's written a number of books on horror cinema. (Available in the BFI bookshop, natch!) It's a melodrama, from 1945, about a serial killer who targets young girls with some imperfection. Our star, who says virtually nothing for the entire film, is mute as a result of a traumatic incident in childhood, and is likely to be the killer's next victim! As the guy giving the introduction pointed out, he hoped we liked thunderstorms, as practically the whole of this film takes place during one. As I watched, it occurred to me that I have seen it before, but so long ago that I neither remembered the fact, nor the plot. So that's all right then, and it is a superior film. Influenced many that came after, what with its creepy lighting, close-ups of the killer's eye, and so on.

So, I need to get myself up tomorrow for a walking tour of St Pancras' Hotel. For which I need to take the voucher I've printed out and signed, the card I paid with, and photo ID. And my camera, if allowed.. Sunday is looking like a film called Tim's Vermeer, which, as I understand it, is about a fellow who can paint just like Vermeer.

For Monday, I was looking at a couple of plays, which turned out to be completely sold out for their entire runs! Honestly, it's getting so you can hardly show up to anything spontaneously in London anymore. The third play was the charm, and so on Monday I'm heading all the way up to Hampstead, to see a play called Rapture, Blister, Burn, which is one of a couple of feminist plays doing the rounds at the moment. I would have gone to The Night of the Hunter on Tuesday, but it's a little too early to get from work, so I'm seeing it on Wednesday instead, when it's on a little later. And this time, it's booked! And about time too, it's appeared so often in the listings.. On Thursday, I'm in the Guildford office, so not going out that night - too long a day. Then I'm in Ireland for the weekend.

And o joy, the Monday after (3rd February), I have a ticket to the opening night of a Beckett trilogy - Not I, Footfalls, and Rockaby - at the Duchess Theatre. He's my favourite playwright, Not I is my favourite play. Given how quickly tickets sold the last time Beckett was performed in London, I jumped on this one. All three are short plays involving a single woman. That poor woman - she is doing all three, every day, and certainly, Not I is a terrifically hard play to enact - a rapid-fire, practically nonstop monologue, fast as you can get it out - the record, apparently, is 9 minutes. The first performance took 22 and Beckett, apparently, was disgusted. And during the whole thing, all we can see is a disembodied mouth - so she can't move. Apart from speaking. Always a breathtaking experience to watch! Cheapest tickets are with http://www.uktheatretickets.co.uk/ - the stated price is £1 more than lastminute.com, but significantly, they don't charge booking fees, whereas lastminute.com charge a £2 fee..

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