Talk: Palestinian Cinema

In searching for things to do today and tomorrow, I came across new Meetup groups. Tonight's was Film Nite, who were hosting a talk about Palestinian cinema - and, since I couldn't find tickets anywhere else, I booked with them. Oh, what a palaver though - first, there was no indication how to pay. Then there was confusion over whether I had booked for the right thing, when the organiser said "See you tomorrow night!" and that was last week. Then there was this wine and canapé reception afterwards - the event happening in Soho House. It started at an asking price of £35, but he didn't seem to be getting any takers, because he finally said the first 10 people to pay for the talk could have the reception for free.

Well, today I looked up the directions to 21 Old Compton Street, the address given on the Meetup page. Two streets behind the Curzon Soho, parallel to Shaftesbury Avenue. Not hard then - I know my way to the Curzon Soho, and use it as a landmark to pretty much everything in Soho! Tube to Leicester Square, then. Again, I was coming down the stairs to the platform as the train pulled in - not such an issue tonight, though, I was in plenty of time. On the Tube to Leicester Square, I was rather dubious of the woman beside me who was literally nodding off - her head kept dropping and snapping back up, and I wondered a few times whether it would end up on my shoulder. It didn't. I also wondered how she could stand it - that annoys the dickens out of me and I always change position so my head doesn't drop.

Just as well I wasn't in a hurry at Leicester Square - the crowds leaving the station were horrendous, as were the crowds outside. I made my way to the Curzon Soho, where I spent a full five minutes waiting to cross the road. Well, I wasn't in a hurry, as I say, and didn't fancy risking it - you could grow old waiting for a gap in traffic just there, but there are traffic lights further down, if you prefer. When I eventually got across, I had no problems finding Old Compton Street - or, for that matter, No. 21, although I hadn't been able to spot it on Streetview. And then I saw the note on the door, which said that the Old Compton Street entrance was now closed, and could we please enter via Greek Street.

Aargh! I'd never been on Greek Street, and there was no helpful map nearby to show me where it was! Luckily, although my phone battery was dying, I'd brought it with me (turned off) in case of emergency. So, after it finally turned on, it was good enough to stay awake just long enough to show me that Greek Street was, of course, just parallel to the street I'd come up, and one block over. The numbering system was weird, but I eventually found the entrance, logic telling me that it had to be part of the same building, so I shouldn't have to cross any streets. A buzzer indicated that I could enter - I'm guessing they have a camera on the entrance.

Oh my, this isn't half as posh as the photos on the website would lead you to believe! Scruffy is the word I would use. Interestingly, there's an interview with the owner in today's Evening Standard - the youngest member of the UK Rich List in 2013. Equally interestingly, membership costs £800 just for this house, plus a £200 registration fee. Worldwide membership, mind, is a bargain at just £1400. It's hard to see what the fuss is - bare wooden floors and rickety stairs. They say the food is good, but the drink eye-wateringly expensive. Membership, of course, just gets you in the door.

It's also a maze. There was a hubbub of noise, but no indication where I should go. Mind you, with no other option, I climbed the stairs - and came to a room with a desk and a guy with a notebook, who greeted me cordially. I told him I was there for the Film Nite event, and he directed me two floors up. So I passed one room with seats, headed to the floor above, and came across a restaurant. Turned out to be the "Kitchen Room", as advertised on the website. Well, I couldn't see any sign of a group or a cinema, so I peered up the final flight of stairs, but could see that led to the roof terrace. A server noticed I seemed lost, and when I told her where I was headed, she directed me to the "door with the blue dot" at the end. Sure enough, there was a light overhead that was red when the screening was on - because this was the door to the cinema.

When I entered, there was hardly anyone there - I had ten minutes to spare. I got a nice, central seat - they're quite plush seats, which tip back when you sit in them. The place did eventually fill completely, and indeed overflow, with some people arriving quite late. The speaker was a petite young Palestinian woman, who turned out to be collaborating with her twin sister. And after a brief introduction by the organiser, the talk began, accompanied by a slideshow - incorporating many movie clips.

It was quite fascinating. She gave us a brief history of Palestinian cinema, showing us examples that she found interesting and relevant. The later the films, the better the quality, of course. Many of the earlier films were propagandist, moving into more secular themes later on - in general. I saw clips from three excellent films I'd already seen myself - 5 Broken Cameras (a documentary from an occupied village), Omar (a terrific thriller), and a film I'd completely forgotten I'd seen, The Time That Remains (a deadpan comedy). Also a couple of films I'd like to see in full - Amreeka and Hanna K, which stars Gabriel Byrne as the Israeli lawyer in the case of a Palestinian trying to return to his homeland.

She ran over - but then she'd started late, and no-one minded, it was so interesting. A few people did leave early, though. At the end, the organiser invited us all for drinks! which turned out to be served in the cramped anteroom just outside the cinema. Now, I didn't know how we'd all fit. And it was one of those gigs where you have to wait for some waiter to open the bottles, you don't just help yourself (and the waiters were busy). Plus I'd already tried, unsuccessfully, to make conversation with a couple of people - they all knew each other, and stuck in their groups. So I said sod this, I'm not that desperate for a drink (and there was, as yet, no sign of the canapés, despite us being late). I have wine chilling at home. And so home I came, glad to be in from the cold.

I'm booked in for a walk around historically horsey areas of the City tomorrow, with the Central London Outdoor Group. Assuming I can make it to Barbican by 6.30!