The last little picture house

Emily had long looked to movies for escapism, but could a special screening reveal a bright reality?

The cinema had been there for as long as Emily could remember. Wedged between two houses amid the maze of backstreet terraces where she grew up, it had revealed a world of promise to her as a girl when she wandered through the endless summers of the 1980s. A port in a teenage storm – a harbour for lost souls in need of a little movie magic.

It was the Saturday showings of Hollywood classics with her grandma she’d loved most of all. Clark Gable not giving a damn, Gene Kelly singin’ in the rain and Bette Davis not asking for the moon when she already had the stars.

The cinema had closed during lockdown, unable to survive the pandemic. The news had broken Emily’s heart and she had since avoided going past the boarded-up building. But the community group she volunteered to help with a few weeks ago, delivering care packages to pensioners, had brought her back to these familiar streets.

Emily had just made her last delivery of the day when the heavens opened. She would have to take the quickest route to her car – right past the picture house.

“OK, walk quickly, get home, make coffee, watch a movie… NOT Singin’ In The Rain,” she muttered.

Her lockdown coping strategy so far had been a combination of keeping busy and escaping into the fantasy world of film. Any pause between the two brought home the enormity of the crisis and her loneliness within it. Emily pushed against a wave of sadness as she shuffled past the picture house, her head down.

“Just in time. Come on in before you drown,” came a voice. Emily stopped, rain falling into her eyes as she took in the old man in the doorway. He looked weirdly like John Hurt.

“You’re open?” she asked.

“It’s a one-off,” he mumbled. “For the lost and the needy. You’re lost and needy, right?” “Well, no, I’m…”

“Come on, it’s free, you get popcorn, a hot drink and a special showing of an old film. There’s only one other person here, so you can socially distance. Now get in before we both get washed away,” he insisted.

“Well, OK, but I insist on paying, I’m not, you know, in need,” she went on, as he slammed the door behind them.

A lifetime of memories remained within the dusty pink walls of the old building. Visits with Grandma, student trips during its cool, arthouse phase, her first date with Joe.

She shuffled along the empty row to seat H11, her favourite spot. She had never seen the place empty before. This must be a local council scheme or something to help people through lockdown, she thought, feeling guilty about taking up a place and a little uneasy about a shadowy figure in the back row. But it gave her the chance to be here one last time, with its musty smell and worn, velour seats.

As the curtains opened, the screen lit up – The Big Sleep with Bogart and Bacall. Her first-date movie with Joe all those years ago when they’d met as film students. Emily felt an ache of longing for those days, friends she had known, but most of all for the kindred spirit she had found and lost in Joe. She pushed it away from her thoughts and let the opening credits pull her into another realm. It was halfway through the film when Emily started to feel tired. She looked up at the screen, but instead of Bogie and Bacall there was a trailer for what looked like a low-budget indie film called Past Imperfect.

“If you could go back, would you do it all again?” came a voice. On screen, a shaky, handheld camera skimmed across a swirly carpet Emily thought she recognised.

The movie then showed a child being picked up by two outstretched arms. The camera zoomed in on the face of the grown-up and there, laughing and holding the child, was Emily’s mum, dressed in an orange top and flares, in their old house.

“But… it can’t be,” Emily stuttered. She watched as the child on screen, a little older now, blew out candles on a birthday cake. It was Emily. Cheering her on was her mum, dad, grandma, grandad, friends from school, and Mr and Mrs Sanderson who used to live next door. Emily was speechless – her life was literally flashing before her eyes. Key events followed from her school days, her first holiday to Paris, university graduation, her relationship with Joe – the works.

“So, would you do it all again?” asked the voice-over. Emily blinked and sat bolt upright. “Yes, yes I would,” she whispered. “I would only change one thing. No, two – I’d make Mum ditch that hideous orange top.”

Bogart and Bacall had returned. She must simply have dozed off. The film was coming to a close, so she waited and, as the credits rolled, she got up and made her way towards the exit, a little shaken and in need of fresh air.

“Emily!” came a voice. “Is that you, Em?” It couldn’t be.

“Joe?” she called.

He’d followed her outside and they squinted at each other in the sunshine. Even from two metres away, she knew it was him. He pulled his mask down and smiled. “Do you recognise me, Em? Older, now. More… dishevelled,” he said, pushing some hair from his eyes.

“What are you doing here? she said. “What just happened?” She gestured back towards the cinema, but it was locked and bolted.

“Erm, not sure, I was just passing and this bloke who looked like…”

“John Hurt?”

“Yes! He–”

“Pulled you in?” interrupted Emily.

“Yes, from the rain.”

“Same,” she nodded.

“Hmm, very Twilight Zone,” muttered Joe. She paused. “It’s good to see you, Joe.” “It’s good to see you too, Em.”

Emily felt an ache of longing for the kindred spirit she’d lost

Emily passed the cinema again two days later to find it bolted and barred. She had called the box office number several times, but the recorded message confirmed it had closed down. As she stood gazing at the, a woman emerged from a nearby house. “It closed last year, love,” she called. “Didn’t you hear?”

“Yes, but it’s been opening off and on, hasn’t it? To help people in need…”

“You must be thinking of somewhere else,” said the woman. “No one’s been near here since it closed. End of an era. We’ll have to watch our films at home instead, won’t we?” she added, with a sad smile.

The woman went back inside and Emily walked to her car. The movie tonight would be Cool Hand Luke – Joe’s choice. Just a friendly film night over Zoom. A chance to catch up on old times, nothing more. No, things like that only happened in the movies.