“To me it is really a community that is built on survivorship: these people have encountered some really heavy stuff in their lives. Their release is this music, this really hyperviolent music where they dress up as clowns. Who is to deny them of that? “
The Mystery Matinee
When you arrive at the theatre, the doors are yet to be unlocked. There’s a huddled mass collected around the fringe of the threshold, eagerly awaiting the arrival of a hungover college student, who will unlock the door with a hardy yawn. The crowd shuffles in, all ages, clutching their phones, email apps open to the confirmation page with the code that holds the key to a ticket. Some are chatting with others, some are lingering outside taking the last drags of cigarettes or the final sips of contraband coffee in the shadows of the theatre. In a matter of 5 minutes that drag on like eons, the college student unlocks the cage that guards the reception desk, opens the till, and gestures, with his eyes half closed, for the hungry film fans to form a queue. After a lifetime of anticipation, you’re finally in your seat, and this is when the buzz really starts. The screen remains blank, the seats begin to fill, the phones are set to silent. Then…the lights go dim, and anything can happen.