I’m Here

  It is not very often in Manchester that you get something for free. Rarer still is the experience of getting something for free that is actually good and worth having. So when a friend invited me to a free film screening of the Spike Jonze short “I’m Here”, I had, shall we say, realistic expectations (I thought it might be shit).

My friend and I arrived with our realistic expectations at a multi-storey car park near the Arndale. A line of people stood outside and as we joined them a small metal bolt was given to each of us. The line moved inside the car park and we trudged up flight after flight of piss covered, dingy stairs. By this point I was unsure if we were all merely pawns in the game of some psychotic killer who intended to lock us all in and go to town with a rifle. I felt stupid that I may meet my untimely end all because I was too cheap to pay for the cinema.

My morbid musings came to an abrupt halt when I glimpsed through a doorway the beautiful world which had been created on the other side. Proudly displaying my newly acquired bolt gained me access to this blue- lit, ethereal chamber within the concrete walls. Dreamy music played as we walked along a bubble wrap carpet down a corridor lined with old science text books and bottles of Absolut (the sponsor). 

A bar was set up serving long cosmopolitans, espresso martinis and bloody marys for which no money was demanded of us. Clutching our prizes we made our way into the main room which was littered with cardboard boxes overshadowed by the projection screen proclaiming: “In an Absolut world, ordinary is no place to be”.  Before the film started a hissing noise began emanating from the boxes, and blow up mattresses broke out for everyone to sit on. 

The film itself was a charming, funny robot love story. Spike Jonze is the master of atmosphere, and the flaws in the story (cliché, predictability and an obvious metaphor for love) was more than made up for by the sweetness, delicacy and originality of the images. The location, the drinks, the film, the music all worked together to create a surreal urban fantasy experience. We all left feeling we had been part of something slightly magical, carrying yet more tokens for free drinks in a range of bars in the Northern Quarter.

Of course, in essence we were all part of a sophisticated advertising campaign. There’s no such thing as a free lunch after all. But having made a vow to myself never to buy Absolut vodka, I feel that I have paid nothing, and never will pay anything for my surreal and quite wonderful experience- leaving me free to happily remember it on my own terms.