Explore Cultural Experiences Together: Why Sharing Food Can Be a Challenge

On a rainy Sunday, I decided to catch The Brutalist at a luxury cinema. It’s a long film, so I picked a comfy spot. I settled in with my snacks, ready for the show to start.

As the lights dimmed, Adrien Brody appeared on the screen, embodying a troubled architect. The opening scene was shrouded in tension, and I strained to grasp the story. Suddenly, an usher brought a large burger and fries to the man beside me. I could hear him struggling to manage his meal in the dark. He leaned over, asking, “Would you like some fries?” I hesitated, not wanting to share bites with a stranger. “No thanks,” I replied, refocusing on the movie.

Time flew by, and soon there was an intermission. I grabbed a cup of tea along with everyone else. After a quick restroom break, we hurried back as the film resumed. This time, Adrien Brody and Felicity Jones were on screen, but their intimate scene was interrupted by the usher again, who delivered more tea and, moments later, a pizza for the middle of the row. It added to the chaos, and I found it amusing amidst the film’s serious tone.

The director, Brady Corbet, clearly crafted a thoughtful piece, but the experience felt more like a loud restaurant than a movie theater. I left with mixed feelings—impressed by the film but frustrated by the distractions.

The next night, I attended a live show called A Complete Unknown at the Moth Club in Hackney—definitely not the Timothée Chalamet movie. It featured talented performers covering Bob Dylan’s songs.

Nina Winder-Lind kicked things off with punky renditions from Blonde on Blonde. Following that, Clara Mann and Spitzer Space Telescope brought a more acoustic vibe with classics like “It Ain’t Me Babe” and “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright.”

Brown Horse then hit the stage and opened with “Like a Rolling Stone.” The lively organ riff had everyone singing along, creating a powerful moment. Amid the joy, someone shouted “Judas!” and another replied, “I don’t believe you.”

I was there with my 23-year-old, surrounded by a lively crowd, many of whom were closer to his age. As I walked home in the Hackney rain, I reflected on how different my two events were. On balance, I preferred the vibrant energy of a singing audience over the munching sounds of the cinema.