Tag Archives: ratings

My First 18-Rated Cinema Experience

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“So you think you’re lucky, punk?”hqdefault

That final scene was hardly worth it. My first 18 film was “Dirty Harry“. Clint Eastwood played a seriously unhinged individual wreaking violent revenge in horrific ways. I still can’t get the scene out of my head where he shoots a guy in each limb from close range.

But for some reason I just couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Even a Certificate-15 that I saw at school at 14 (state school incompetence could be unbelievable) took me weeks to recover from.

“I Still Know What You Did Last Summer” was about a serial-killer wielding a massive hook and you can guess how his victims met their excruciating ends. We have an old house that makes noises at night. It was windy and every creak was the psycho coming up the stairs. Every shadow was his cape. I started screaming and mum embarrassingly complained to the school that I’d lost nights of sleep over a film that I was a whole year too young for. The teacher retorted that “none of the other kids had had a problem with it”. We then watched a horror film at home “Don’t Look Now”, again about a serial-killer (clearly a subject I need to avoid). Once again I spent at least a week of disturbed nights imagining I was next.

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Following this I decided that Certificate 15s had to be vetted first and 18s were definitely off-limits.

Partly to blame for my ridiculously realistic and detailed imagination are my parents, who have never had a television.

I can still remember the euphoria in the house when videos were put onto CDs and we could finally watch them on the computer. For the first time we had access to films outside of the cinema (which we went to about once a year) and friends’ houses. Dad was very much into what I term the “Roald Dahl philosophy” which was that screens killed the imagination (I think he wrote this in one of his autobiographies, which I highly recommend).

This is true. Children growing up today are deprived of the ability to imagine, to “make-believe”. It’s all too easy to dump them in front of a screen and let that do the work. But our favourite time of the day was story-time. Dad would be back from work, we’d get cosy and he would create new and exciting worlds full of weird and wonderful characters with different voices. We used to beg for “one more chapter! just one more!”.

Copyright Disney/Pixar

Copyright Disney/Pixar – This scene in Despicable Me 2 shows a typical night in our family.

I used to have incredibly powerful dreams which felt as if a film had come to life in my head. There I was ducking from the searchlight of a helicopter, dodging bullets whilst escaping enemy spies. I’d wake up with adrenaline and sometimes I’d go back to sleep and see what else happened. I even wrote some of them down.

Anyway, last week my boyfriend came back from work talking about this “Gone Girl” film. Quite a few of his colleagues had been discussing it and he thought it sounded interesting. We looked into it and I realised it was 18-Rated.

My first instinct was to say I wasn’t interested. But I was. I also wanted to know what all the fuss was about.

When we went it was clear that reviews had had a similar effect on the packed audience. That or they’d heard Ben Affleck was naked in it (which definitely would have persuaded me and yes, it is worth watching for “that” shower scene).

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Copyright Fox Movies.  The man behind “Gone Girl” is David Fincher, director of Fight Club which apparently also featured an intricate plot. However I stopped watching it due to the constant violence.

As far as 18’s go Gone Girl wasn’t bad and it was a highly entertaining evening. There was a clear warning about the gruesome bit when a sharp implement was picked up. I looked away but the sound effects were bad enough. So I observed reactions instead. My boyfriend stared wide-eyed at the screen holding his breath, white knuckles clutching the armrest. Everyone else was watching in a similar fashion. I asked him when it was over and thankfully it wasn’t a long scene.

I was still a little traumatised by the thriller aspect of the film the next day, getting flashbacks as my brain processed it. It was a story with lots of twists and turns that made you puzzle about it afterwards. I like features that make you do that. The size of cinema screens really gets you involved too.

Would I see another Certificate-18?

Probably not. I don’t need cheap tactics like blood and gore or god forbid, car chases, to get drawn into a film. I need a clever engaging plot (“Gone Girl” was excellent in this regard), well-developed characters and an interesting script. That’s all.

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Filed under Advice, Days out/nights out, Life of Lydia

Looks are deceiving

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On Saturday my boyfriend booked a “Royal” “Hotel” in Birmingham. The rooms looked modern and clean and the price was reasonable, reduced by £20.

As our taxi drove up the road we spotted a prison and a housing estate with an equally high fence. Then we stopped in front of a rundown pub. There were people hanging around it smoking with their beer. We both checked whether this was indeed the “Royal” “Hotel”. The pub’s car park was labelled as the hotel one. As my boyfriend crashed up the kerb entrance, we saw youths in tracksuits smoking and drinking outside the pub disco – all 90s music played through a sound system of the same era. Asbestos hung out of the car park ceiling where something had crashed into it.

Making our way past the leering locals, and already feeling rather out of place, we squinted in the disco lights as we were assaulted by noise. I wondered if the car would last the night and what delights we could expect in our accommodation. Trying to find reception, we walked through the disco and into the main pub. We spoke to the barman, and minutes later a pleasant, thin, anxious young man appeared. He took payment at the bar and then accompanied us. It was a bizarre experience being in a pub disco waiting for our hotel lift to arrive.

The second floor was completely different. There were modern-looking hotel rooms and framed pictures of the city centre in the cleaned corridors. We were shown into our room. The bed was a decent size and I was impressed with IMG_0853[1]the cleanliness. Instead of a kettle they had a “Tea-Mate”, a fast boiling tea pot. This looked fancy so I took the pot out and had a look. Mould floated in the water. I poured it out. It was marked with multiple drinks.

We left for Birmingham city centre. I was amazed at the size of the buildings, towering around us. I felt as small as an ant in a human’s world. The taxi driver remarked that there were too many people in Birmingham. He said there was a big problem with illegal immigrants putting a strain on the city, and that developers had demolished the beautiful old buildings and replaced them with ugly new architecture like the Bullring. He took us to Chinatown, as we wanted a reasonably priced restaurant meal.

496We found a diner, China Town Noodle Bar, off the main street. The decor was basic, just laminated wooden tables and plastic chairs. I was put off, but my boyfriend was keen. I was persuaded when I noticed the customers were mostly Chinese. We were seated in front of a roast duck, complete with head and legs, and a roast chicken, shining as they rotated. I’d never seen a whole cooked duck before. I ordered some in a noodle soup. It was delicious, and I had it with cream soda, not generally available when eating out.

We had a great night. When we collapsed into bed in the “4*” “hotel” we realised that our “bed” was in fact beds put together. A thin sheet covered the mattress.

At 7.40 there was knocking on the door and incoherent shouting. My boyfriend was asked to move his car as it was in the way. He’d only parked in the space because someone was reversing out of it. I opened the curtains to our grit bin and road view. My throat, dry like paper, demanded a drink. There was none due to the bacteria-laden pot. So I had a shower with the “toiletries” – two thin pink soaps. It was really powerful and I enjoyed it until I began wading in the previous occupant’s dirt from the partially-blocked drain.

I avoided the exfoliating towel and used my own. With filthy feet we went to breakfast. There were no staff around, although we were 5 minutes before closing time. Finally the cook came down and grumbled as much as our stomachs. He told us he had cooked for 15 but only 9 had booked, so it was a case of “making do” with what was available. We had never experienced this sort of customer service before. Apparently when guests complained about the noise keeping them up, he told them they “should have slept in the day instead”!

I sat down expecting scraps. In fact we got a lovely cooked breakfast, so it didn’t matter that the toast was burnt. “Was everything ok?” asked a barmaid as we left. I didn’t have the heart to comment.

The moral of the story? If you’re booking a hotel, check it out on Google Map street view first. Our “hotel” had good reviews on our booking website, so always check Trip Advisor first.

On the other hand, don’t be put off by the appearance of a diner/restaurant. It may serve excellent food despite the decor.

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