2019’s Top TV: Best of the Rest

FROM THE ARCHIVES: This post has been dug out of the drafts because, despite being unfinished (I wanted to do more in-depth write-ups about Succession season two and His Dark Materials series one but struggled to find the right words), the sections that are complete were worth publishing because they feature a few turns of phrase I’m particularly proud of and highlight great shows that I rarely, if ever, talk about in the real world.

The Best Films of 2020 so far AKA A tribute to the cinema experience

You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone. There was plenty of time during the lockdown to reminisce and miss what used to be considered mundane. My favourite of those little luxuries, aside from delving into a bookshop and resurfacing hours later laden with piles of weighty tomes, was going to the cinema.

In the two months before this ordinary activity was made temporarily impossible, and the echoing piano note that plays at Cineworld as the lights go down and the trailers start began drifting in and out of my head at random for weeks on end, there were plenty of moments that highlighted exactly why the cinema experience can be so comforting and exhilarating.

For example…

PARASITE

Despite being hyped to high heaven for almost a year before it reached the UK, this Oscar-winning genre-bender still managed to exceed all expectations, and the first viewing has already become a cherished memory.

But before that historic win, it was hard to find anywhere nearby which bothered to screen it – still, this presented a good excuse for a day trip. And so, after passing a pleasant morning in Bath and wishing the town centre of where I lived was even half as lovely, I sought out a small cinema called, fittingly if rather unimaginatively, The Little Theatre.

After squeezing into the red-hued foyer – briefly filled to overflowing by a three-person queue – and picking up the tickets from a friendly clerk, buying supplies from the other counter – so close to screen one that you could pick and pay for your snacks while leaning out of the screening’s door if need be – and climbing up stairs along a wall covered in a slapdash floor-to-ceiling collage of posters, I was thoroughly charmed by the place before I’d even sat down.

A crowd had gathered outside the fully-booked screen two while waiting for the previous film to finish, which changed the atmosphere from cosy to cramped but provided a golden chance for some eavesdropping – a lifelong hobby that everyone has but doesn’t like to talk about.

When we were at last allowed into a room decorated like it was still 1935, nestled into our plush seats and waited for the lights to dim, it almost didn’t matter whether the film was actually any good or not – this was nice enough.

The fact that it was actually good – amazing, in fact – did help, though. So, too, did the reactions from an audience who were (mostly) loving every minute of it – the exception was an elderly couple who sat next to me stone-faced as the credits rolled before one of them remarked ‘Hmm. Quite strange. Not sure what the fuss is about’.

Walking outside afterwards into the sunshine feeling energised and light-footed, I hovered around the entrance for a while, listening to the giddy gabbling of other cinemagoers talking about their favourite moments and feelings, reluctant to leave this joyous little bubble that would pop as soon as I walked away towards whatever the day had in store for me next with a big stupid grin on my face.

Right, enough of this lengthy preamble, these are the actual moments that stuck in the memory, described in vague and hopefully not-too-spoilery detail.