Chances are if you’re a fan of the cinema you’ll have been to The Prince Charles Cinema in London’s Leicester Square. Just off Chinatown, it’s an oasis for film lovers around the country, a truly independent cinema that’s doin’ it for the people. It’s surprising, then, that the writer, director, editor of The Regulars, Fil Freitas, who himself worked at the cinema rising from front of house to manager, seems to really hate the general public.
Shot by cinematographer Ben Rolph almost entirely in the cinema itself in timeless and impressively-sharp black and white, the film plays out like Clerks by way of Dazed and Confused through funny and lackadaisical observations. A hang-out movie with an underlying critique of the meagre quality of life that the mythical London Living Wage provides. Freitas stars as himself, as does his girlfriend, Dusty. They’ve both been working at The Prince Charles “too long”, and as manager, Sam (Ricardo Freitas), says, the job is merely a “stepping stone”. These people dream of grandeur; they’re musicians, writers and performers. But how can anyone expect to break out of the mediocrity of the stale, popcorn-infused carpets in this climate?
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The film is a collection of interactions that work as a mood piece rather than a cohesive three-act narrative. Freitas clearly understands the drawbacks of hospitality, and anyone who’s had a customer facing job will relate to the daily frustrations customers inevitably provide. A couple spend far too long deciding the flavour and size of their popcorn, while new recruit Sophie (Bronte Applyby) gets used to the throwaway problems to which everyone else has become desensitised. Despite a healthy disdain for the job and a lovably meandering approach, The Regulars retains an earnest sense of camaraderie that makes it hard not root for these plucky cine-servants as they try and get through the day, We’ve all been there.
