The Cinema and the Return of my Happy Place
Original Publication: 09/09/20
This week I made the long-awaited and much-anticipated return to the cinema, my happy place, as I divulged in a previous piece (see The Cinema and the Absence of my Favourite Place for more musings). Needless to say, I've felt its profound absence.
My local cinema, The Silver Screen, is yet to open its doors to the public, and so my partner and I were forced to frequent another, Cineworld in Dover (one I hold in far less regard.) Either way, those thoughts of contempt were immediately pushed aside as we walked into the lobby to be greeted by that nostalgic and once familiar smell of warm popcorn. The usual COVID safety measures were in place, but they did nothing to take away from the sheer giddiness we shared at that moment.
Our film of choice for this special evening, Tenet (Christopher Nolan 2020) As a big fan of its writer-director, I'd been itching to see this film since rumours first began to surface last year. We amassed our obligatory confectionary and made hastily for the doors of screen 4, where we were greeted by the sounds of previews and the consumption of said confectionary. Immediately, I was overcome with a sense of calm and contentment. I grasped my partner's hand and made hastily for our seats. It’s this exact feeling that I cherish most about this place. It evokes the notion of being present, and it's a state that many of us clamour our whole lives to obtain. In the running time of your chosen feature, all worries and mental distractions you may hold are either washed away or observed in a new light, and all that's left to do is revel in the picture and the story that unfolds in front of you.
The film itself fits comfortably into Nolan's majestic body of work. The themes at play (the manipulation of time and plot lines laced with ambiguity) draw comparisons with his earlier work, such as Memento (2001) Inception (2010) and Interstellar (2014). It's clear what drives and enamours the esteemed British director.
The movie requires an observant audience and relies on its attention to detail, and rather than risk spoiling the surprise as it were, I will say simply this. The mark of a great film (in my mind) is defined by how much impact it leaves on your conscious thought and how much it touches your soul. As we left the cinema that night, my partner and I could discuss little else. We discussed the many twists and turns and daunting realisations with heavy intrigue and enthusiasm. True, a film that centres around time travel and international espionage leaves much in the way of post discussion, but it was more than simply this. Tenet was the perfect film to see following the reopening of cinemas because it embodied just why I took its absence so hard in the first place. Aside from the personal benefits I receive from its presence, I missed the thrill of an engrossing, well-made film on the big screen. I missed the way it makes me feel like an impressionable, mischievous boy in his happy place, and I missed sharing all of that with my partner.
As I sat and watched this labyrinthian plot unfold in a manner that constantly flirts with chaos, I was transported back to that first time. The Lion King (Rob Minkoff and Roger Allers 1994) at the Silver Screen, the time that started it all. All things considered, Tenet may not be my personal favourite in Nolan's body of work (that honour falls to The Prestige (2006) but it will always hold a special place in my heart. Like The Lion King, it's the first. The first after an unfamiliar five months, and if those previews are anything to go by, the first of many more to come.
