It is now safe to tell you about an exciting mission that took me and two friends deep into the shady heart of 1940s Vienna...
‘Psst! Do you want to go to a secret cinema?’
This was the tantalising question that arrived with a ‘ping’ into my Inbox last November. I quickly tapped a resounding and enthusiastic ‘YES!’ and hit send, only later thinking to ask ‘what actually
is a secret cinema?’ A few discreet enquiries revealed that it's the brainchild of a specialist event company who take great delight in creating a theatrical spectacle based around a cult classic film. Clues are sent in a series of mysterious email communications and half the fun is trying to guess what you're going to see.
We were given this dress code...
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| A rogue-ish dress code |
…and were told to meet a man carrying balloons outside Barbican tube station. It was all incredibly exciting. We booked into
the Powder Room in Soho for some vintage hairstyling, ready to play our part as 'Rogues'. Already some subterfuge was going on as my long hair was very cunningly disguised into a bob.
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| A quick bite to eat at Leon in Soho |
We met our contact and soon were being hurried along the dark streets by uniformed officials shouting ‘schnell’, creating bafflement in modern onlookers. Our destination was the shadowed entrance to a former ‘lead and glass’ warehouse in Clerkenwell. Practically everyone had adhered to the dress code, and this styling, combined with subtle smoke and clever lighting, helped create the illusion that we had turned back the clock, had suspended time.
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| Checking ID at the entrance to the International Zone |
This feeling became more apparent as we entered the yard. Everywhere we looked was perfect – the money exchange swapping our sterling into Austrian schillings, the decorative bars in all their faded glory, the secretive gambling club upstairs, the spivs trying to barter watches and nylons. Every new arrival brought a book to leave behind – later to be swapped or given to charity - resulting in a heaped table filled with treasure.
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| Posters tying the film with the era |
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| The money exchange |
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| A higgledy piggledy pile of books |
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| Clever lighting helped set the mood for film noir |
The audience were part of the play – unrehearsed but just as key. Our greatest compliment came when we asked someone to take our picture. ‘But I thought you were actors!’ he said. Vintage mischief managed!
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| Me, no doubt transfixed by the wandering balloon seller |
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| Lovely friend S |
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| Lovely friend M, one of the bloggers behind To Happy Vegans |
In what must have been a feat of unseen project management, little groups were gathered and rushed away to be shown secrets and illusion, helping to create the atmosphere of suspense. We whispered passwords and were ushered behind the bar, down echoing stone steps into a smoky long cellar. Here we played follow the leader through a strange underworld - scurrying across planks of wood bridging water, ducking through tunnels - were we chasing or being chased?
The motif of the evening was the man in a trilby hat – he lurked in the shadows; he appeared in the smoke. Occasionally you’d look up and there he was...
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| The man with the trilby hat |
You may have guessed the film by now. It was
The Third Man. And it was the best cinematic experience of my life!
Take a look at the short clip below to find out more...
Read M's
write up at To Happy Vegans
Read more about
Secret Cinema
Thanks to M for some of the pictures included on this blog post
