Cinema Paradiso

Today I closed my laptop at 18.30, decided that my working day was over and headed to the cinema, to a "Cinemateca" near my house, Cinema Union, a small cinema where the films are shown only if there's at least 6 people, where one day they show 1922's Nosferatu, and the next 2007's Juno. Sometimes it's a DVD screening, which is deceiving, but I like this place anyway because it's just around the corner, and because the athmosfere is quite easy-going, kind of nice family business treatment for us clients. And besides, money-is-money, films cost 10 lei (2,5 euro) and I've been told that Fridays are free (I have to check that. But it might be, because the other day, a Friday, I thought I skipped into the other Cinemateca -felt a little guilty- but maybe it was free -it was crowded, so it sounds reasonable-).

Anyway, let's focus on my story: I was going to watch, this time, Michael Clayton, at 7 pm. Nothing rare, nothing surprising. A mainstream film that I didn't get to watch in Madrid, and most of you, I'm sure, have downloaded from the Internet. They had been showing it a couple of months around here in distant Malls, so I didn't feel like going by myself. Film distribution is like that, here, most of films are firstly released in modern cinemas at the Malls (with its high prices, 5-6 euros -think on Romanian medium income, not in mine or yours- and far too talkative audience), then disappear a couple of weeks and come up again, if you're lucky (I''m still waiting for some, don't lose hope), this time in some shabby-looking 2-euro movie theatre in the city centre... The city centre, where I live, and where I'd like to go to the cinema anyway, no matter where I'd live.

Hey me! Behave! Don't loose your focus... So I arrived Cinema Union. It was a rainy Monday: even students stay at home on Mondays. That's why I wasn't really surprised when the man at the door told me that there was no film at 19 pm, I just thought, "damn it, there's not even 6 people today...". But no, he explained further: the film couldn't be shown because it hadn't arrived on time from Cluj (a Transilvanian town) ! He told me to call next dayto check if the film will be on (as I told you, it seems a family business, sometimes).

So here I am, coming back home in a 21st-century European capital, full of lights, cars and shops, and somehow feeling inside the 1950s' Cinema Paradiso, that film by Giuseppe Tornatore where a man had to sprint its bike through Sicilian roads to deliver in time a rudely censored love movie, or some Western, to an expectant population...

But I must come to see Michael Clayton this week. I must. Because I'm really curious, I want to check one thing: will it be a DVD copy? Finding out is worth 2 euros! It would be completely absurd but I sort of have a hunch... Isn't Romania Ionesco's home country for a reason?