Falling Asleep at the cinema

 

The Room Next Door is my kind of film . 

Typically lush and heavy with its colours andwith a heavy orchestral score this quiet melodrama about euthanasia on the surface is more Almodòvar than Almodòvar .

I went to Chester Picturehouse to see it. With its plush seats and warm interiors, I sat my coffee down on my little armrest, and took,in the first arty meeting between old friends Tilda Swindon and Julianne Moore  before falling fast asleep with , what I was presuming to be a snore that could out do the average warthog

.

I knew nothing except Tilda was found dead in full battle makeup and Moore was being all soft spoken to the police. 

The credits- the end.

I was mortified 

Not for me but for the half dozen other patrons who would have had to coped with an hours plus of my night noises. 

At the end of the credits. I apologised to a couple two seats behind, who gallantly waved me away with a smile

Perhaps it was the seats, perhaps I need that blood test to check just why I’m so tired, or perhaps  my psychi just doesn’t want to deal with another story of preparation for death and a story of the dying

Who knows.? 

Answers on a postcard please