Tonight I have watched a film. The good kind of film that gives you a different perspective on the world around you after you leave the cinema, at least for a short while anyway. I thought Id write something about it.
I step out of the Cornerhouse cinema. The streets are busy with young people. Its Freshers Week. As I hug my friend goodbye I notice they are the trendy, indie crowd. Converse and jackets. Hair dye and badges. I head down Oxford Road and pass the rock kids near the biker pubs and just past them the mainstream kids queuing to get into a vodka bar. The city is very much alive tonight, filled by newcomers enjoying all the freedoms, excitement and booze Manchester offers.
I feel the urge to stay out and soak up the night. I ponder who I can call? Who would be around tonight? Then I think Ive already been where they are now. Ive had that same fun years ago in Liverpool. Well, for a short while before I needed a job. I felt I never fully lived the debauched student life I imagine others enjoyed. Like a British version of American college films, Toga parties, kegs and all that. But I tell myself its not like I envision it and I made a lot of friends and learnt a great deal from being a barman. I decide to head on home. Besides Im an old man now, nearly 24.
I am waiting to cross the road outside the always busy 24-hour Spar. Even more people linger about. Four young black guys stroll by all dressed up in crisp suits and jewellery. As I gaze back up the road a train rushes overhead. As it goes by it leaves me looking at the Palace hotel behind it. Its faade has been touched up over the quiet summer months and is now lit up in almost neon red and purple. Its vibrant against the thick black sky. I consider taking a photo but frown when I recall the film in it is useless at night. I need a better camera I remind myself. I look back across the road and bus fills my view startling me with its close proximity to my face and the whoosh of air the brakes let out. The city is swirling around me and I watch slightly removed as I walk on to the bus stop.
I walk slow, absorbed in thought and observation while the other pedestrians dash and march to their goals. I feel like a character in a film. The camera would be on the other side of the road, following me at the same pace. A dolly shot? Then my mind moves to other things.
I am leaving the bustle behind me as I get near my bus stop. The garish lights from a cheap hotel transform the shadow of a tree to purple against a green pavement. I try not to forget this.
The bus arrives minutes later and I flash my pass and get on. Inside the brightly lit bus is a saddening sight. A large group of foreign students are looking bored, heading home early, possibly displaced and repelled by the nightlife of unabashed drunkenness and foreplay. They are joined by some Plain Janes, people wearing beige and a midget. I sit at the back.
The film I saw was L.A. Plays Itself. Its a film about how the most photographed city in the world has lost its identity to Hollywood. Through clips from movies filmed there and some archive footage it attempts to show us Los Angeles rather than L.A. (an abbreviation popularised by the movies). It tries to open our eyes to how the city really is and was.
I step out of the Cornerhouse cinema. The streets are busy with young people. Its Freshers Week. As I hug my friend goodbye I notice they are the trendy, indie crowd. Converse and jackets. Hair dye and badges. I head down Oxford Road and pass the rock kids near the biker pubs and just past them the mainstream kids queuing to get into a vodka bar. The city is very much alive tonight, filled by newcomers enjoying all the freedoms, excitement and booze Manchester offers.
I feel the urge to stay out and soak up the night. I ponder who I can call? Who would be around tonight? Then I think Ive already been where they are now. Ive had that same fun years ago in Liverpool. Well, for a short while before I needed a job. I felt I never fully lived the debauched student life I imagine others enjoyed. Like a British version of American college films, Toga parties, kegs and all that. But I tell myself its not like I envision it and I made a lot of friends and learnt a great deal from being a barman. I decide to head on home. Besides Im an old man now, nearly 24.
I am waiting to cross the road outside the always busy 24-hour Spar. Even more people linger about. Four young black guys stroll by all dressed up in crisp suits and jewellery. As I gaze back up the road a train rushes overhead. As it goes by it leaves me looking at the Palace hotel behind it. Its faade has been touched up over the quiet summer months and is now lit up in almost neon red and purple. Its vibrant against the thick black sky. I consider taking a photo but frown when I recall the film in it is useless at night. I need a better camera I remind myself. I look back across the road and bus fills my view startling me with its close proximity to my face and the whoosh of air the brakes let out. The city is swirling around me and I watch slightly removed as I walk on to the bus stop.
I walk slow, absorbed in thought and observation while the other pedestrians dash and march to their goals. I feel like a character in a film. The camera would be on the other side of the road, following me at the same pace. A dolly shot? Then my mind moves to other things.
I am leaving the bustle behind me as I get near my bus stop. The garish lights from a cheap hotel transform the shadow of a tree to purple against a green pavement. I try not to forget this.
The bus arrives minutes later and I flash my pass and get on. Inside the brightly lit bus is a saddening sight. A large group of foreign students are looking bored, heading home early, possibly displaced and repelled by the nightlife of unabashed drunkenness and foreplay. They are joined by some Plain Janes, people wearing beige and a midget. I sit at the back.
The film I saw was L.A. Plays Itself. Its a film about how the most photographed city in the world has lost its identity to Hollywood. Through clips from movies filmed there and some archive footage it attempts to show us Los Angeles rather than L.A. (an abbreviation popularised by the movies). It tries to open our eyes to how the city really is and was.