Today I went to Monopol, to pay my respects to this iconic picturehouse. For it’s closing down, and probably for good. One can (and one does) blame the ongoing pandemic for death of culture but I think the problem runs deeper. The theatre never did particularly well, which is understandable given that it specialises in “non-commercial” cinema. Even so, it could have been managed better — as its potentially last day demonstrated.
I arrived well in advance, only to join an enormous slowly-moving queue. The box office was closed; instead, the tickets were sold by the popcorn girl. My plan was to see the 17:00 screening; when my turn came, it was already 17:08. So I bought the ticket for 18:00 and went for a stroll around Triana, fuming to myself indignantly. And was the theatre full, in the end? It didn’t look it. Come to think of it, I don’t remember Monopol ever being full.
But how symbolic it was to see today The Human Voice, the ultimate goodbye exquisitely delivered by Tilda Swinton — and Dash the dog. (I didn’t realise until today that Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown was also inspired by Cocteau’s play.)
This is both the first English-language film and the first short by Almodóvar, and I hope it’s not the last one. How much better Dolor y gloria could have been if it lasted 30 minutes instead of two hours!
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