Past thoughts, recollections and perhaps even rants may have led keen readers to think otherwise however Mr Hummels is a proud supporter of independent cinema and all the offal that accompanies it. And, after Saturday nights showing of Dr Strange in Leicester Square Odeon, will remain so.
Please allow me to discuss.

So, I understand that by going to Leicester Square Odeon on a Saturday night I may have been asking for the experience that I had. Akin to a Green Party member going to a Tory party conference, or an educated member of the public at a Trump rally. But equally, I went in with an open mind and the tale I am about to tell you is an accurate depiction of my experience.

Armed with two teenagers who are fans of the Marvel film franchise we set out into a rainy London night. These teenagers, rented from the local supplier, had buoyed my enthusiasm enough for me to actually remain impartial. (That sounds odd, they are my girlfriends younger brothers, visiting for the weekend.) I didn’t want to dampen their spirits as their  teenage tantrums had my weekend and so decided to use the occasion as a watermark.

London’s Leicester Square on a Saturday night is probably one of the most perpetually busy locations on Earth, I speculated as I showed the young lads around the bright lights of Piccadilly Circus. The crowds around us swayed and staggered, shouted loudly to their groups of friends and generally resemble an outtake from Planet Earth. The persistent rain during the day has me looking forward to the cinema. Though I am not overly enthusiastic about the choice of film, I’m willing to make sacrifices for the overall experience.

The service we received as we approached the Box Office was decent, friendly and positive. At this point we were informed that the film had four seats left, right in the front row. After a quick check at the more expensive Vue we decided to just take the seats, our friendly Box Office host informed us that the seats were not too bad, that we wouldn’t be cricking our necks and the that they looked straight on to the screen.
£37.50.
The anticipation builds.

Stopping briefly in the kiosk area we bought the necessary refreshments, one gallon of Cocacola and a large box of sugared air each. £7.50 each.
The warmth and sugar hit me with a wave of enthusiasm as we make our way quickly up the maze-like guts of the beast. We reach the heavy door of the cinema, our cinema and enter. The darkness, smell and sound of the cinema greet me and I look around to get my bearings and our seats.
They are not quite as promised, but I have sat in worse. The main issue if the wall directly infront of the seat I have been given, as a six-foot plus gentleman I quickly find that I have had better legroom with RyanAir. Anyway, I settle into the chair, my legs bent hither and tither across a fire-escape wall. The chairs are large, well grooved and well facilitated though austere. As the film is about to begin my peace is disturbed by my new neighbor, a european man clutching nachos who would rather I clear the mound of jackets  on his seat in the least accessible place in the cinema than take a better seat anywhere else. (I voted Leave). The film starts and my new nemesis begins eating his nachos, loudly. My attempts to intimidate him are met with a vacant friendly smile, he would appear to be either drunk or coming on to me, or both.

The film.

Garbled, rubbish. One scene where a character is kicked through a portal was the obvious highlight as I cried “Gooaaaaal” to myself.
Do not like Benedict Cumberbatch. Or Tilda Swinton. Together they worked well, annoyingly. I really wasn’t interested in the magic, or visual effects or the poorly written script, or the extremely patchy plot rammed with explainers. The occasional joke. Some more visuals. An ending that isn’t good enough. A sequel.

Now that I expected, what really annoyed me was the technical issues throughout the film. The projector continually blinked and cut out like it was a pirated copy. It may have been bad luck but I suspect that this a fault that had been ongoing and wasn’t addressed by the Odeon head office bastards.

Now of course when you read that back I sound like a dick head liberal. I am a dickhead liberal.
But the combination of everything was too much to just leave, it had to be documented. All of it was too much. The price, the sound of nachos, the fucked screen and the terrible film. Too much.

Now I dislike the indy cine scene too, the superiority and competitiveness. But those hipsters know how to respect the etiquette. And the staff care enough to not fuck it up. And the company addresses problems with projectors or haven’t digested or laid off absolutely all the projectionists. And the price. I understand that they may have alternative beers that taste like rubber rather than good old tooth rot potion. Or that they have dried vegan bogeys rather than popcorn. But they are better.

Anyway, there you go. I’ve half arsed this whole thing as I am watching the football, but who cares, Odeon? No, proabably not. Any one reading? Preaching to the converted I think.

What a total waste of time.

Mr Hummels