I went to a screening of Mr Magorium’s Wonder Emporium today.
Sunday morning screenings are generally reserved for family films, and the PR companies usually make events out of them to entice children along with their parents. Kids often have their faces painted, wear costumes, receive free toys and sweets and have a whale of a time.* This morning’s film was no exception: the cinema was filled with sprogs clutching balloon animals and paper aeroplanes. There were jugglers, goodie bags on every seat and even a man on a unicycle wheeling around in front of the screen.
Fun to watch, but as the film began I realised, with a sinking heart, that every child in the building had been WOUND UP TO HIGH HEAVEN and there was NO WAY they’d be able to sit still to watch the movie. It was going to be HELL. I’ve lived through it before; Sunday morning screenings are, quite often, miserable experiences.
But you know what? I was wrong! The whole cinema sat transfixed – including the baby sitting in front of me, who gurgled happily on his mom’s lap and didn’t screech at all (as babies are wont to do in cinemas). I was very impressed. I have no idea why they were so well-behaved, but if every Sunday morning screening was like this, I wouldn’t object to getting out of bed at 7.30am ever again.
Film wasn’t too painful, either. I wish my eyebrows looked as good as Natalie Portman’s.
* When I wrote the words ‘whale of a time’, I happened to glance up at Sky News and saw they were running a story about how Japan are hunting humpback whales again. So I guess that’s an expression that really shouldn’t be used any more…