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Tuesday 9th March 2004

Whilst watching the predictable thriller "Mystic River" (Sean Penn was adequate in it, Bill Murray should definitely have got the Oscar) in the somewhat shoddy Warner Village Cinema in Islington (the heating had broken down and the house lights remained on, though slightly dimmed, throughout the film), there was a brief moment of unexpected excitement.
This came not from Clint Eastwood's pedestrian movie, but from a couple of juvenile interlopers who had managed to gain (presumably) illegal access into the film - but maybe they'd paid for their tickets and just wanted to behave like idiots anyway.
I would guess they were around about 12 (thanks to the cinema's policy of lighting the auditorium during the showing I was able to get quite a good look at them), so even had they paid they were too young to see what I believe was a 15 film.
About 45 minutes they ran through the doors into Screen 4, breathlessly excited and giggling. I would surmise they had somehow managed to evade the multiplex's almost non existant security and were filled with adrenalin at having beaten the system. Perhaps they were being chased by an overweight security guard or a 16 year old usherette, but if so they were well ahead of them at this stage.
Having achieved their goal of having made it into a screening of a picture that they weren't legally allowed to see they seemed confused about what they should do. They ran around briefly, still laughing, then one of them looked like he might sit down on a seat in front of me, but when he saw his friend still running around he decided that that looked like more fun and joined in. They had come up with some master-plan to gain access to a cinema screen without payment, but had obviously not considered what they would do if their insane scheme came to fruition. I suspect it had been easier than they had expected. Watching the film might have been an option (and one might argue also be the punishment for their crime), but they were too giddy with victory. One spotted the emergency exit and made for it, but on getting there realised he'd have to push the bar to get out that way and was obviously worried about the consequences of such an action. So instead, after maybe 20 seconds of illegal attendance the two of them ran for the door through which they had entered, back into the cinema corridors and who knows what adventure?
The lessons of their escapade were more meaningful and less tortuous and ponderous than those of the film. Those boys learned that although some rules are there to stop us doing stuff that is fun, most of them stop us from doing stuff that is actually pretty boring and so no-one really cares about enforcing them. Some doors hide excitement and riches and danger, but most open to reveal tedium. It might be fun to run around in those rooms for a few seconds, but you soon realise that that's the most you're going to get out of it, plus possibly a heavy-handed attempt to make Tim Robbins look guilty, whilst obviously the mute boy who plays no other part in the story must be at least something to do with the murder. Or what would be the point of having him in the film?
Making something forbidden just makes it more fascinating, but ultimately you'll discover that it's a disappointment. Ask Adam and Eve. All they got was a slice of apple and a realisation of their own nudity. Which would have been OK without the apple bit.
Rules are made to be broken, to give our lives a false sense of excitement. I wished I was 12 again and able to experience such simple pleasures again, though I would at least have crashed an 18 had I been them. They still had some boundaries of danger that they felt they couldn't cross.

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