This evening, I saw U-Carmen Ekhayelitsha at The Picturehouse. I have not yet decided if I liked it, but it was not without merit as a film and opera. I never thought I’d live to hear an African click dialect used in European song structures, or a heavyset Carmen, for that matter.
The Picturehouse has been under attack for having terrible seats (albeit expensive ones) that hurt your neck and back. Ditto their policy of not allowing food and drinks into the designated arthouse theatre only (the rest of the cineplex is fair game for spillage). To these complaints I’d like to add that the airconditioning is too cold for my Bizet-loving pet rock. I mean it was really, really cold.
But I have decided to make full use of it. We haven’t had a local and convenient permanent arthouse screen in years, and the thought now of having one good movie playing at any given time, in such close proximity to my new workplace, is very exciting. I will be making it a point to see something at The Picturehouse once every fortnight until they discover the unprofitability of such an enterprise, and close it down all over again.