I’ve fallen in love at Luna Leederville before. It’s my favourite cinema in Perth. Whenever I walk into the place, it looks into my eyes (because it is a place and not a person, it can be looking into me wherever I look) and tersely mumbles “formative relationships.” Luna Leederville is red like the inside of a bag coated with a lidless lipstick, or your knee when you’ve cut yourself and didn’t notice blood moving between the inside and outside of your body. Unlike either of these scenarios, there are also strange wire columns everywhere. Or rather, the suggestion of columns, and the angry smell of popcorn asking to be eaten. The ticket buying experience was lacklustre, like a shoe yet to be shined. The person who served me wasn’t keen on conversation and neither was I, perhaps they were letting me stand back (a few steps from the counter) and take it all in. Giving me some time to understand the scenario, where I was and who I was at all. The magnetic letters and numbers offering their insight into film times brought me back to Earth and onto the plushy red carpet beneath. I went to the cinema with four people this time, myself included to help make up numbers. All three of my companions purchased choc tops which I always think of as a bold move, but was apparently normal for them. I purchased a large popcorn because I wanted an experience. I also angrily grasped a large Pepsi with the cold clammy hands of someone not averse to drinking that much Pepsi. There weren’t many people here on a Monday night, and that made the cinema feel like a palace, with a sweeping staircase and bins that weren’t overflowing (talk about OPPORTUNITY TO DISPOSE OF WASTE).
Four people was a bad decision, it’s hard to keep track of everyone and one of my companions, my sister, keeps eating my popcorn. Even though it is a large, I feel angered by her ever-present greed. And my own concerning not sharing. Are we all just terrible people? We walk through the cinema down the shadowy path to Cinema Three. Like most times, it is not yet ready and we sit in a slightly more formal but also slightly more relaxed seating area. There is a strategically placed (and naturally occurring) spider web contributing to the vibe of the place. Spooky. I thought there wouldn’t be a cheese platter here, but there is. And you can get a San Pellegrino for $5. I can’t see how big it is because a man walks in and orders the “easiest coffee they can make,” which seems wild to me. I stopped listening so I’ll never know what it is. We are in Cinema Three so I feel angry. Cinema Three is the shoe box of cinemas. Cinema One is like an entire room. Not a room just for shoes. I am a shoe. In a snug fitting shoe-box. The room narrows as you look forward and I feel at one with the screen. There is only one entry, it is also the exit. I wonder if everyone here is thinking about what they would do if that one door was to suddenly become off limits, wondering if we could collectively claw through the purple material walls to the world outside.
The person sitting next to me (a person that I came here with) lets me eat some of their ice-cream. It is spearmint and in my mouth, it is icy and green, if I were to look. Studying the innards of the choc top, there are ripples of chocolate sauce which is mildly impressive. My sister, two seats down exclaims at a cinema appropriate volume, I turn to her and she is waving her choc top (without the choc, so really just a ‘top) in my face. IT IS HOLLOW. My counterpart comments that it was vanilla ice-cream in the first place, so maybe she was already disappointed. I want her to take it back and show the cinema staff the murky void but she refuses. I think they put in less effort with this flavour (understandable) so I can only advise you to steer clear. Unless you’re wallowing in disappointment already. The large popcorn is large, but lacks warmth. Just a bucket of nothing much, like an actual bucket that is empty. An emotional trailer starts playing and I want to cry but the lights are still on.
Review by Bryce Newton. Art by Skye Newton.
This article first appeared in print volume 88 edition 4 GIRL.