SAVE THE PRINCE CHARLES CINEMA
With the news of The Prince Charles in Leicester Square facing closure, I took on one of their overnight movie marathons. This is how it went.
“Is the Prince Charles still open?”, legendary American director Quinten Tarantino asks in an old stock interview from 2004, where he is promoting Kill Bill. For those who don’t know it, Tarantino describes The Prince Charles Cinema best: the “mecca” of cinemas, “at midnight, triple features, quadruple features… the day that Kill Bill plays at The Prince Charles, is the day it comes home.”
In February, the ‘Save The PCC’ movement began. The cinema announced a legal battle with its landlord, who wants to close the cinema and redevelop the building. Within 24 hours, a petition gained over 100,000 signatures, from people who support independent cinemas, and believe in nurturing British institutions.
To show solidarity, I took on one of their infamous overnight marathons: ‘The Action Movie Marathon’. I’ve completed marathons from The Dark Knight Trilogy to The Lord of the Rings Extended Editions So, I’m ashamed to say that The Action Marathon, was the first to break me.
I treated myself to a large Pepsi, and a medium popcorn, then took my seat. This moment is always suspenseful, two empty chairs next to me… who will fill them for the next ten hours?
The line-up of films is projected on the screen as I scoff at the all-American cohort: Heat, Point Break, Aliens, Predator. What about all of the great British action films? At least they’re all good. Well, except for Heat (I don’t like Heat). ‘I can sleep through that one’, I think.
My left-hand seat neighbour arrives. I throw out a white flag, and give him the armrest, eager to get off on the right foot. He doesn’t notice, and proceeds to elbow me instead. My second neighbour arrives, this time I’m steadfast in holding my remaining territory, so stubbornly lean on the armrest.
Heat begins, I’m feeling optimistic. I’ve already been awake for sixteen hours, with another ten ahead of me, but feeling fine. I get into Heat, and enjoy it more this time.
‘Why on earth am I doing this?’, the thought shoots through my head. ‘Woah, that’s early, we’re not even through the first film yet’. I brush these off and distract myself by having another sip of Pepsi… it’s empty. Shit.
The credits roll and I’m ready for my first break, so go outside. The freshness of the cold air seems to have the opposite desired effect, and makes me tired. I check my phone, it’s just before 3, over six hours to go. I get another coffee before I start to doubt myself.
Point Break begins. My left-hand seat neighbour (who’s elbowing I did my best to ignore through Heat) has opened a bottle of coke, and put it in the armrest without the lid. ‘He’s gunna knock that all over me’, I gloomily predict, but am far too polite to say anything.
Luckily, he moves the bottle to the opposite armrest, and within three minutes, spills it down the person next to him. He apologises and moves the bottle to the floor next to my bag and jacket, still no lid.
I’m so transfixed on monitoring the bottle of coke, that I forget I’m supposed to be watching Point Break. It ends, I sit there staring blankly at the credits. I stand up and assess my options. I’m exhausted. The coffee didn’t give me energy, it just made me shake. Self-doubt floods my brain and I consider leaving.
‘If he comes in with another drink, I’m calling it a night’, I think just before he breaches the doors armed with a medium Pepsi. I hang my head in shame, put on my coat, and leave. My undefeated streak… broken.
As I walk back to Leicester Square station, I take one last look at the cinema’s iconic sign and think, ‘this place can’t close’.