Many surprises await you. Not really. We don’t have a basement. But as a carrier of chronic basement envy, I understand your disappointment.
It all happens in the basement.
Annie Wilkes almost killed off her beloved author in one in Misery. Yes, that was indeed the sheriff who met his untimely demise down there. Nasty. So it made a tense tale even more nail-biting.
Then there was Omar who took refuge in his sister’s basement when it mattered most. So it contributed to the necessary rehabilitation of one of TV’s most beloved characters before… well, before… actually, let’s not talk about it. It’s still too soon. And who could forget Elliot discovering E.T. behind the garbage cans in his. OK, me neither. So they also compel people to re-write scenes from perfect Steven Spielberg films. Still. No doubt the great director regrets missing that trick.
Occasionally, a basement will turn up in a song, and fans of this gem will recognise the reference. My new favourite thing is to drive around town with it blaring on repeat and master my air-drumming as we crawl through traffic. I discovered this retrospectively when I found myself lip-syncing the same chorus to the tenth person over the course of one journey.
Fans of Two-Door Cinema Club are probably aware that the group has a combined age of 8 and three-quarters. I’m certain they’re of an age that I could’ve given birth to all three, a fact I discovered when we showed up at one of their early gigs to be offered the only available seats next to their parents. One for the grandchildren. Oh no, wait, they were on the dance floor.
But few may know the origins of their name, which stems from a venue featured in the new segment of the blog. Welcome to Lesser Spotted Ulcer! Finally, the point of the post! Where every now and again, when I take the notion to remember, we visit one of Norn Iron’s hidden gems. No, really. First up, Tudor Cinema in Comber. A cute mispronunciation by a local boy inspired the moniker of his brilliant band. It’s privately owned by the lively Noel Spence, owner of 1000s of titles, which he will cheerfully allow you to scan through to book film and screen for a modest donation (no fees as such, or children allowed). Including E.T. and Misery. Donnie Darko, also. And The Blair Witch Project. Or any other film with a critical basement scene. He’ll even put up a personalised welcome message with the classic letters above the entrance. And if you’re lucky, he might give you a free copy of some native yarns and poetry in between performing his roving ice-lolly dolly duties. It takes a decent local map and frequent passenger-window-winding-down for directions to refine this map further, but it’s worth the recline into a red velvet seat when you do.
To Noel, my inaugural rosette. Go Noel (canned applause).
Tudor Cinema. (audience not pictured)
And that concludes this week’s edition. Tune in next time when we’ll be visiting the Stiff Little Fish Fingers factory.