Skyfall
Went to see "Skyfall" yesterday. It was Orange Wednesday - two tickets for the price of one. We go when no one else wants to.
Usually, we're one of four or five people in the cinema. But not yesterday. There was a veritable forest of grey and white heads - people who'd seen Bond thro' all his shapes from Connery to Craig. Many were as old as "M".
It's a joy buying the tickets. "Two tickets for the Bond film" I asked the smiley girl at the ice cream counter. "Ordinary or De Luxe?" she queried. We never do De Luxe. For the extra couple of quid you get a seat that even DFS wouldn't have the nerve to sell. So we went for our usual. "That will be £15.50. Oh are you over 60? So that's £11.90, and you've got an Orange Wednesday?" After she tapped in the number from Orange the total cost was £5.95.
The thing is cinema is geared for the younger market. So the ads (sexy, alcohol driven and extremely fast cutting) and the trailers (see previous adjectives) are aimed at the young ones. A cinema full of crumblies are generally not interested in getting our legs over while playing on our PlayStation or looking cool as we pour ridiculously expensive soda pop down our necks. This didn't matter: we got the full hormone soaked treatment from the ads and trailers. The sound was so loud I swear hearing aids were redundant.
And so to the film. About an hour into it we got the credits. Up to that point Bond and his assistant had be chasing a villain - clearly Russian or from Eastern Europe - across Istanbul, over its roofs, down its steps, on its trains at speeds that would make Jeremy Clarkson blanch.
After a short breather, with no obvious sex, except for pictures of fountains erupting and trains going into tunnels, the action redoubled.
When I watched the early Bond films, I thought myself privileged to see some exotic resort on the Med, or a snow capped Alp or two as a backdrop to Bond's adventures. Now it's China, Macau or the inside of buildings in Whitehall.
Much of the film centred on our great city. Yes when it comes to daring do, you can't do better than do it in London. And Bond and the mega villain did! They totally trashed the place. Difficult police cut backs were achieved with heavy rapid fire guns and rockets. New underground lines did not have to await the outcome of some dodgy PFI deal. Bond and his nemesis hacked their way thro' our delightful capital.
I won't spoil the ending for you. Only to say it was quite unexpected. At one point I could have sworn I was watching the final "Harry Potter".
The film over, we stumbled out into a dark early evening in November and drove off to Sainsbury's to do a big shop. We certainly know how to live!
Usually, we're one of four or five people in the cinema. But not yesterday. There was a veritable forest of grey and white heads - people who'd seen Bond thro' all his shapes from Connery to Craig. Many were as old as "M".
It's a joy buying the tickets. "Two tickets for the Bond film" I asked the smiley girl at the ice cream counter. "Ordinary or De Luxe?" she queried. We never do De Luxe. For the extra couple of quid you get a seat that even DFS wouldn't have the nerve to sell. So we went for our usual. "That will be £15.50. Oh are you over 60? So that's £11.90, and you've got an Orange Wednesday?" After she tapped in the number from Orange the total cost was £5.95.
The thing is cinema is geared for the younger market. So the ads (sexy, alcohol driven and extremely fast cutting) and the trailers (see previous adjectives) are aimed at the young ones. A cinema full of crumblies are generally not interested in getting our legs over while playing on our PlayStation or looking cool as we pour ridiculously expensive soda pop down our necks. This didn't matter: we got the full hormone soaked treatment from the ads and trailers. The sound was so loud I swear hearing aids were redundant.
And so to the film. About an hour into it we got the credits. Up to that point Bond and his assistant had be chasing a villain - clearly Russian or from Eastern Europe - across Istanbul, over its roofs, down its steps, on its trains at speeds that would make Jeremy Clarkson blanch.
After a short breather, with no obvious sex, except for pictures of fountains erupting and trains going into tunnels, the action redoubled.
When I watched the early Bond films, I thought myself privileged to see some exotic resort on the Med, or a snow capped Alp or two as a backdrop to Bond's adventures. Now it's China, Macau or the inside of buildings in Whitehall.
Much of the film centred on our great city. Yes when it comes to daring do, you can't do better than do it in London. And Bond and the mega villain did! They totally trashed the place. Difficult police cut backs were achieved with heavy rapid fire guns and rockets. New underground lines did not have to await the outcome of some dodgy PFI deal. Bond and his nemesis hacked their way thro' our delightful capital.
I won't spoil the ending for you. Only to say it was quite unexpected. At one point I could have sworn I was watching the final "Harry Potter".
The film over, we stumbled out into a dark early evening in November and drove off to Sainsbury's to do a big shop. We certainly know how to live!
Comments
Dear Anon, apologies. I was being extremely ageist.
How's the colostomy coming along? You do remember where you keep the spare bags?