Glasgow Times

Film Club is helping me get through lockdown

- Catriona Stewart

WE began with a high shark to no-shark ratio. But, just as those great fish adapted over millions of years, adjusting to their environmen­ts to be flat-bellied on the ocean floor or shuffling over land, so too have we diversifie­d from Jaws, Jaws: The Revenge and Bait 3D.

The Quarantine Film Club has turned one and tomorrow we will watch our 111th film. One hundred and eleven. What a milestone and what a saviour it has been.

Setting up a lockdown film club was the brainchild of my friend Jonathan, an idea to keep us all together and connected as the lockdown kept us at home.

Jonathan was already my best cinema buddy – never talked during the movie, always had insightful analysis and fun facts afterwards, only slightly judged my bringing three-course meals to films.

When the cinemas closed it was a huge jolt and left a significan­t gap for socialisin­g and entertainm­ent. Cue Quarantine Film Club.

The plot was straightfo­rward: on a Wednesday and a Saturday at 9pm we’d watch a film while chatting on Messenger.

It’s extremely helpful to have movie buffs in the group, folk who know their films. And the rest of us are completely spoiled.

Twice a week – and more for special occasions – Jonathan (and we imagine him updating a vast spreadshee­t) or Andy will curate a list of films to choose from, based on a theme. Then we vote. Winner is the night’s entertainm­ent.

Sometimes the winner is the night’s “entertainm­ent”. We’ve had good and bad and mythically bad films.

One of the boons of the selections is the chance to see movies I would never have picked for myself – classics like Bullitt, Casablanca and Vertigo, and the modern classics, 16 Candles and Karate Kid.

I cannot abide a musical. I love plays, I love music. Musicals? Absolutely not. And so my film buddies, led by Jemma, love the weekly wind-up of persuading me the chosen programme is a musical.

Singing In The Rain I with. Crybaby not so much.

Andy hates a black-and-white film so we select as many of those as possible. We’ve revisited the treasures of my teenage years: Clueless and Romeo And Juliet.

Prior to lockdown, a small group of us had a Bad Movie Club, again with a high shark count. So bad movies have naturally been a strong feature. We had a Hallowe’en-themed club night where I think I was the only one to dress up but it was a super excuse to do so, despite being at home alone. For Glasgow Film Festival we had the Quarantine Film Festival Fortnight.

It’s my job each week to count us in. We go on “play”. Three, two, one – make a quick pun – play. Not tricky, right? Well, tell that to the rest of the group. It is sacrilegio­us to interrupt the countdown and they are a bunch of heathens.

Our well-oiled machine runs into trouble from time to time. Usually on Jonathan’s rare weeks off. Last week, Andy said he would organise the group chat but forgot, leaving coped us all staring at blank screens for 20 minutes before we pulled ourselves together.

Sometimes I come up with what I think is the perfect little pun but it goes wrong.

Me, delighted: “Three, two, one – DONNIE DARK-GO!” Short pause before the first “I thought we were watching Donnie Brasco?” “Wait, isn’t it Donnie Brasco tonight?”

We have silly little traditions now – the first person to spot a dog announces “Dogs of film club!” Ditto hats. The group chats are named for the most eye-raising lines of dialogue.

Stephen plans to organise a pub quiz when all this is over, with a round of Name The Film From The Group Chat Title.

Looking back over our Facebook page, on July 20 last year Jonathan posted his prediction the film club would still be going at Christmas.

He was right. Christmas and beyond. We endured the festive double bill of Operation Christmas Drop and A Perfect Christmas Village. Let us never speak of either again. Except to you, Laura, about how you lobbied for Operation Christmas Drop then dropped your router behind the fridge.

And, er, while we’re there, Andy, no one will forgive you for forcing Primary Colors on us then sneaking off to bed (new dad) while we all sat politely through it.

The films, in their expansive genres, have been wonderful, but it’s the friendship­s forged by film club that have made it so vital. Our group are firm friends now, one year on, yet some of us have never met.

Having an event to look forward to twice a week, something where you don’t have to talk about the pandemic, you can talk about anything or you don’t have to talk at all, has been essential.

So, see you all tomorrow, Quarantine Film Club, for Episode 111. I speak for us all when I say thank you Jonathan. And I speak for myself when I say for God’s sake, people, we go on PLAY.

Wake up, Andy, that’s the column finished now.

Tomorrow night we watch our 111th movie

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 ??  ?? Cineworld shut its doors as the virus spread ... but that didn’t mean an end to group-watches
Cineworld shut its doors as the virus spread ... but that didn’t mean an end to group-watches

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