We are starting a new page. It will last as long as you send in your overheards and seen (pics). Not just about the Rex, but from and about anybody, anything, anywhere.
It is you who kept those early R&P pages alive. From the beginning the mag/programme was filled with your comments and remarks, many handwritten and posted.
Now we have website, email, twits and instaface etc. So send them, signed or anon.
It is not just overheards but seen/written/graffiti etc, spontaneously observed from life’s simple day-to-day…
So here’s your challenge – not to be ignored. These immortal gems are the stuff of everyday life and lipstick… so send some to the Rex pages for the joy and celebration of this rich vein of the everyday, and the short (occasionally cheap) thrill of it all…
Kissin’ in the Back Row…?
There are no personal plaques on the backs of the seats we invariably book at the Rex, but there probably should be. Nowhere special – you can keep your Royal Boxes and swivelly chairs – just somewhere up on the sumptuous, velvety outskirts, enabling an unobtrusive late arrival to pass. Should we so choose, we could probably find our way there in our sleep.
And as if the luxurious surroundings weren’t enough, also into the bargain are the most gloriously memorable comments from our fellow film goers, overheard as they leave – sometimes long before the credits roll, slinging their bags over their shoulders in short-changed disgust…
At the end of a recent showing of some period drama, which admittedly, had taken a while to get to the point, we tuned into, “Are you awake..?” “God it was slow – reminded me of my cousin’s funeral..” And half way through one of Quentin Tarantino’s epics, “Had enough..?” “Ages ago.”
I’ve even found myself beside an overtly amorous couple who where merely using Woody Allen’s “Manhattan” as a backdrop for their lustful urges… Woody, of course, would have approved, but all the same, “There’s the back row for that sort of thing” I couldn’t help thinking… Until I reminded myself, these are healthy, long-limbed youngsters, not circus contortionists… Only the Rex would
encourage a bit of cosy familiarity anywhere except the back row. (Anon)