“This thought motivates them to get out of bed, eat food, and walk around like nothing’s wrong”
Tonight, we went to the Curzon on Shaftesbury Avenue in Soho to watch Richard Ayoade‘s directorial début, Submarine.
First things first, we don’t go to the cinema nearly as often as we should, and we always realise that after we watch a film somewhere good and love it. The Curzon’s screen #1 is somewhere good. It’s comfortable, with a large screen and an excellent speaker system operated by someone who neither wants to deafen you, nor deprive you of the cinematic experience. We also had cake and coffee in the cafe upstairs and it reminded me of why it’s such a special cinema. If you have a choice, choose this place, or the Rio in Dalston; both are spectacular, homely, and seem to care about film and cinema enjoyment, rather than ice-cream and popcorn.
As for the film, I can hardly remember enjoying and identifying with something so much for years. I’ve never seen such an accurate representation of the unintentional and essentially benign selfishness of adolescence, and the film steered clear of blame, allowing everyone to be both culpable and a victim and , with one notable exception, pretty likeable.
I’m a useless film critic, but the whole thing looked absolutely beautiful and filled me with pangs of nostalgia for childhood summer holidays with its scenes of the epically broad deserted coastline of West Wales. Its Super 8 footage and deadpan, wistful voice-over also piled on the nostalgia unashamedly and the whole experience turfs the viewer back onto the streets after viewing feeling winded and subtly but fundamentally changed, like every good film should.
Here’s the trailer. If you haven’t go and watch it.
