There's No Going Back From the Electric

Along with its infinite variety in most things, London has many, many movie theatres--er, they're called "cinemas" here (theatres are for live plays; cinemas are for movies), although I still can't say the word "cinema" without feeling pretentiously old-timey. Anyway, all the venues seem to come with varying prices, set-ups, and degrees of comfort, but as soon as I found out about the Electric Cinema, I signed up for their email list so that I'd be up-to-date on their offerings. Well, after a lot of waiting, a film finally came up that we would definitely want to see in the theatre (um, cinema), and as with everything else in London, I prebooked weeks in advance so as to avoid disappointment (every screening seems to sell out in advance, especially discount Mondays). From beginning to end, a night at the Electric is moviegoing at its best. I kept Bob in suspense, only telling him that we would be seeing the film in some style, and he kept asking just what was going to make this movie experience any different than usual. Well, here's the answer. You get to choose your seats in advance, so there's no need to arrive early or worry that you'll be stuck in the worst seats. We'd be happy to get D9 and D10 every time!

The Electric may not look like much on the outside, situated on Portobello Road amongst the fruit and veg market this evening,

but the classy entrance begins to give you some idea

of what's in store. Oh, did I mention that there aren't any bad seats in the house?

Bob kept asking me what was going to be so special right up until he saw the seats, when a smile crossed his face and he said, "Ohhhhhhh, now I understand . . ." The screen is a substantial size, and physically extends beyond the edges of curtained area shown above. With only eight rows of seats, I've never been more comfortable or had a better view in a movie theatre. The first three rows are the cheapest (£5 on Mondays), with comfy armchairs and tables between each seat. The next four rows (£7.50 on Mondays) have the added luxury of footstools, and the last "row" is the most expensive (£20 per sofa on Mondays): a pair of sofas for two, with what are called footstools in front of them, but which are actually the size of single daybeds, pushed right up against the sofas, making each sofa about the size of a double bed! In addition, once the film started, everyone sunk into their chairs just enough that the full theatre seemed almost empty, since I couldn't see many heads peeking out above the tops of the chairs. This is no small point for me, since I'm often lamenting the taller people sitting in front of me at movies. All in all, the theatre exudes space and comfort--we opted for seats in the fourth row, and I think this photo demonstrates the degree of affection I felt for my beloved D9:

Available espresso drinks, alcoholic drinks, ice cream, and hot snacks completed the classy evening, and although I didn't partake of any of the above, I did have a glass of lemon-wedged ice water, and there was something about sipping a beverage in a real glass throughout the movie that just made it seem much more special than mere water would suggest. In all, I would be happy to never see a film in any other place than the Electric. (And in case you're wondering, we enjoyed the film as well, although as with every Wes Anderson film, repeat viewings on DVD will be in order!) An added bonus of tonight's trek over to London's west side was the opportunity to stroll along Portobello Road when the antique market wasn't on--something that allowed us to notice shops and neighbourhood quirks that are impossible to see when the stalls and the crowds turn Portobello Road into market mayhem. This enormous mural of Samuel Beckett was seriously impressive,

this roll-shutter decoration was part of a series depicting various tradespeople comically going about their business,

and The Flowered Corner seemed a bit lonely, as the corner was full of empty buckets awaiting the next morning's splashes of colour.