The Cinema Thing
I’ve often been asked the “restaurant question.” You know the one – “you’re such a good cook, have you ever thought of opening a restaurant,” or variations thereof. It’s the kind of thing that is really, really socially awkward. On the one hand, it’s a “nice” question, a kind of compliment really (though sometimes a […]
I’ve often been asked the “restaurant question.” You know the one – “you’re such a good cook, have you ever thought of opening a restaurant,” or variations thereof. It’s the kind of thing that is really, really socially awkward. On the one hand, it’s a “nice” question, a kind of compliment really (though sometimes a backhanded compliment). On the other hand, it reveals that the questioner doesn’t know me really well, maybe misunderstanding what motivates me as a cook, or overestimating the time I have devoted to the craft of cooking, or, most likely, misreading my ability to handle pressure in the kitchen. I love cooking, I’m committed to becoming a better cook, but I’m ill-suited to the job of being a chef and would probably make a woeful restauranteur.
By contrast the one question I never get asked is one I love to entertain and discuss – have you ever thought of opening a cinema? To be honest, I have thought about this – on and off for over a decade. Yes, I’ve even done a small bit of research into this as well. Of course, there are reasons why I might be a very bad cinema proprietor – I deplore the way some cinemas sounds like an animal barn at feeding time, not to mention the risible sound of mobile phones or idle chatter amongst the patrons. A food-less and monastically silent cinema might not do all that well in the current climate.
Or, maybe it would just be a case of finding the right market? I don’t really have an answer to that.
But, one thing I do think might be an answer is to explore again the possibility of partnering to create a film festival. With cinemas looking for alternative revenue streams, there is a possibility for creative partnership. It’s something to ponder.