Walk of Shame

I’ve never actually walked out of a film, and there aren’t many things that could make me. Like everyone, I’ve seen movies at the cinema that I thought were truly awful, but I’ve always stuck with them until the end. Sometimes through sheer stubborn determination; sometimes through wanting to know the end of the story; sometimes just with the hope that it’ll redeem itself somehow. There’ve been movies that have shocked and disturbed me, but I like to have new experiences and those kind of films normally have a message of some kind. I imagine that hardcore pornography or violence to animals, both consistent, could make me leave a cinema in certain circumstances, but given the kind of films I see it’s highly unlikely that this would happen without me having advance warning.

I have, however, twice remained in a film only because I needed a lift home or was due to taxi somebody else. The first was A Knight’s Tale, and then, last friday, we saw Kingdom of Heaven. I didn’t have my car for the latter so there was never the option, but I think that had I been on my own I’d have been out of there. Which is weird, for me, as I like to give things a chance. Maybe I just wasn’t in the mood for either of those two particular films on those particular days.

Whatever the reason, I just got back from The Interpreter, and my faith in cinema is entirely restored. I enjoyed it very much indeed. And, incidentally, going to the 21:55 showing on a Sunday evening is so very quiet – it’s great.