Five years ago today we set out the chairs, blacked out the huge front window, rigged up borrowed screen and projector and served tea and a slice at The Sharrow Pie for our screening of Harold and Maude. The venue may be gone, but we are still here. Stuck on my eyes are the many films we’ve screened. The reds and greens of Paris, Texas. The light reflecting off Dietrich’s dress in her screen test. The dark shadows in The Third Man. Cinema is a waking dream, but a dream you can share with other people.
We’ve got five years, what a surprise
Surprising where this has taken us. Into the cellar of the old Woolworths building, on a tour of the Adelphi in Attercliffe, in old shops, on Canal boats and scissor factories, bike yards and boozers. We’ve played (and screened in) the field. And got into bed with some lovely people along the way. We would have stopped about four and a half years ago without you. So ta. x
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Sometimes our brains have hurt so much we could have pressed stop. Too many chairs, not enough chairs, the screen swinging at an angle, electrical interference, too bright, too dull, too quiet, too loud, the wrong region DVD, too cold, so cold we risked hypothermia before getting to the end of Alien. Something usually goes wrong somewhere. Happily, we have consistently refused to learn from our mistakes and have decided to carry on anyway.
We’ve got five years, that’s all we’ve got
Bowie…..that’s all we’ve got so far. Who knows what will happen next? Even the man who fell to earth can’t see into the future. Who knew we were in his song?