Carry on screaming

The Electric Cinema in west London has set up "Electric Scream!" – a film-screening slot to which parents can take their children that are under one year old, so they don't need a babysitter. Obviously those of us without children would avoid this like the plague; although I suspect we wouldn't be allowed in anyway, thank the Lord.

Incidentally, Wife and I went to see Brokeback Mountain a couple of months back. Now that she and I are in our mid- to late 30s, the joy of cinema-going has become tarnished somewhat. We rarely get the pleasant viewing experience that we expect for the fucking ludicrous sums of money we have to part with to go to "the pictures". (Indeed, it's usually to cheaper to buy the import DVD, and you probably get to see the film sooner too). But Brokeback was a horse of a different colour in that the viewing experience seemed fine... until we got to a quiet, moody section around halfway through. And then we heard the quiet gurgling of a child.

"Was ist das?", we would have exclaimed if we were German. Lo and behold, there in the row behind us and about 10ft away was a baby in a pushchair sitting beside its parents. And it continued to gurgle and make baby noises all the way through the remainder of the increasingly quiet and moody film.

So, being the kindhearted types that we are, we protested vociferously to the management, asking how it was possible that a babe-in-arms can get in to a 15-rated movie, and detailing how it ruined our movie-going experience on Wife's birthday (which it was).

And this is the true and riveting story of how we got some free tickets to a future screening of our choice.