If your family is driving you up the wall, the cinema is your sanctuary. A handful of big chains, like Odeon and Vue, open their doors. The experience is surreal. The popcorn is stale because the teenager working had to get out of bed for this.
But the audience is amazing. You are surrounded by other escapees. You can feel the collective relief in the dark. Nobody makes a sound during the movie because they are all too exhausted from the emotional labour of the morning. You’ll watch a superhero film and feel a strange, deep connection to the stranger next to you who is also covering their eyes from the light.
It’s the best Christmas present you could give yourself: two hours of silence and a giant tub of nachos. Afterwards, you walk back out into the cold, the city still dark and quiet, and you feel like you’ve shared a secret with a thousand other people. And you know what? That’s the real magic of Christmas in London. It’s not about what’s open. It’s about who you’re looking for a cab with when everything else is closed.
