A Grandmother is not just for Christmas, but for the whole year. But as it happens, we have her with us for a week or so over Christmas. And Son and I agreed it’d be nice to find a suitable film we could all go and see.
That’s where I thought Hugo would be perfect. Cosy, feelgood film with nostalgia. But I doubt it will remain on offer.
So when I read about silent movie The Artist I felt I’d got it. Not that she’s that old, but it’d be good. But oh no, The Artist is out for New Year. That is too late.
What will we do? There is Puss in Boots, starting now. Not sure the Grandmother is up for a kittenish Antonio Banderas. We might be down to Sherlock Holmes. Again. It’s what we took her to see (was it two years ago?) when the first film was brand new. She’ll think we have no imagination.
What we have is a peculiarly timed cinema programme.