Learning Points: Our own romantic comedy began with a movie date in Douglas cinema

Richard Hogan's first date with his wife was at the cinema in Douglas, Cork.

The opening of the movie Love Actually is one of those moments in cinema that stays with you long after viewing it. I was in my mid-20s when, on a cold Cork winters evening in 2004, myself and my girlfriend, later to be wife, decided to go to Douglas cinema. We really hadn’t any movie in mind, just head down and see what was on offer. It seems so exotic now, the idea of living by your vagaries and going where ever it is that took your fancy. Seems like a distant world, so much has moved on and changed since then. 

The cinema, too, has gone. like a scene from Cinema Paradiso when Toto returns to burry Alfredo, we passed that old cinema this Christmas. The sad dilapidated sight of a once-bustling hive of activity drew a loud sigh from both myself and my wife.

I couldn’t help think about Toto when he sees the old cinema for the first time in years. It had meant so much to him, it was the centre point of his world. Now in ruins. As I passed by it, I was Toto. I could see my reflection in the car window, mouth open. Struck by the man in the reflection. The three kids in the back were curious at the sound we made, ‘what is it?’ When we explained that Douglas cinema was where we went on our first date the kids were staring out the window pleading with us to tell them more. Funny, when kids first begin to realise you were a person before they were born, and you were not always mom and dad.

I saw many great movies there, been on so many dates. So many failed romantic adventures. Pulp Fiction, Forrest Gump, Good Will Hunting, The Matrix, Fight Club to mention a few. The kids wanted to know about our first date. I could see them, eyes peeled looking at the old cinema house as my wife regaled them with one of her favourite stories about our early relationship. 

She had arrived early, making sure she could see me coming in the entrance. She had been on a date the previous year but they had both missed each other, waiting at different sides of the entrance and the date never happened. Good thing too because her parents really liked that boy! He had turned up at her house before the date with chocolates and flowers for her mother and had a decent pair of Dubarry shoes on. 

When I turned up a year later, leaning against the doorframe with smooth indifference, ripped jeans and Dubarry shoeless, I cut a less than impressive figure for them. In fact, they had a nickname for me, ‘Champagne Charlie’. That was me, unbeknown to myself, in those early romantic days. But being a quick study, I made my way into her mother’s affections, a chunky KitKat, my trojan horse. And our tumultuous love affair has been ongoing ever since.

But I digress. So, she had arrived early. When I turned up a little late, having been delayed parking my mother’s car carefully in the car park, she was standing there pretending she hadn’t noticed my arrival. She refused my offer of popcorn and sweets. 

The kids couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t accept an offer of sweets. When I explained she was trying to be a lady, laughter broke out. ‘You can be a lady and eat sweets’, my eldest daughter offered. She’s not wrong. My wife loves telling this story because for the entire movie she thought I had a body odour issue. There was a heavy smell in the cinema and she put it down to me. The kids thought this was hilarious. That evening we went to see Gangs of New York and she spent the entire movie holding her nose and staring at the ground because of the violence. I was self-conscious thinking she was looking at my footwear. A couple of days later we were on another date, she was willing to give my BO another chance. Of course, when I was told about her experience I was indignant. A young stud like myself being accused of having body odour, preposterous. But it still makes us laugh today. Many years later when our third daughter was born with a serious condition that threatened her life it was those early stories of our romantic life that cheered us up and galvanised us. Love is what sustained us.

It is easy to view Valentine’s day through a cynical lens and say, ‘oh it’s just a Hallmark day’. But anything that gets us to stop and think about those we love and those we have loved, is a good thing. Love is what gives our life meaning. Over the last difficult year, love is what kept us warm. And in the words of Philip Larkin, ‘what will survive of us is love’.