Last Sunday in LA, we went to the cinema, where I’ve hardly been since Covid. I wasn’t expecting much from the film, as truly enjoyable and entertaining films have been thin on the ground recently. Regardless, I’ve always loved the whole experience of cinema-going, from handing over the tickets and finding your seat to the anticipation of watching the forthcoming attractions. But the trailers shown this time were mostly science-fiction – futuristic, computer-generated pot-boilers – and even though none of them probably cost less than £50 million, the previews left me cold… and deaf. I had to stuff tissue in my ears to muffle the booms and bangs. Ah, for those halcyon days when I was a child, watching exciting trailers for next week’s picture starring Gene Kelly (dancing beautifully) or Danny Kaye (singing hysterically) or a constellation of stars more jam-packed than heaven. Hollywood manufactured dreams then.
As for today’s Oscar-nominated films, they are generally bleak, confusing and interminable.
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