October 29, 2004

Cinecultist Goes To The SoHo House's Black Room

Despite our reputation to the contrary with the Eee Vee residency and the hipster tastes in music and shoes, Cinecultist really gets most of our New York City It Places news from reruns of Sex and the City on TBS. That's how we heard about this member's only, with a rooftop pool Soho House place in the Meatpacking District, so when we were invited to a screening of an unknown political documentary in their screening space last night, known as the Black Room, we leapt at the opportunity.

Here's a conundrum kids, for the young girls in the smart set: one wears the pointy shoes with the heels in the evening out in the Meatpacking District so as to blend with the crowd. Yet! Every time one's heel's gets caught in those damned cobblestones, even just crossing the impossibly wide 9th Avenue, one can't help but wince, knowing how much they cost and how they'll have to go to the shoe repair all too soon. What's one to do?

Anyhow, Soho House. Like walking into the lobby of a boutique hotel, it's all dimmed lighting and dark stained wood. There are a number of staff people at a tiny front desk, and though we've rsvped to the e-mail on the press release, there is no real list. We don't have to give a name or an affiliation of any kind. CC steps onto the tiny elevator with an elderly gentleman, a couple who look sort of European and a kid, about 10 years old in shorts and no shoes. We all ride to the Fourth Floor. On this floor is the Black Room, aka the screening room, and the White Room, a lounge area next door with furry throw rugs and modish furniture. No one is in the screening room, but a DVD is queued up for the screening we're attending. People mill about in the White Room, though when the bartender asks what film we're here to see, it's not the one who's throwing the party in the White Room. Oops. CC drinks our cold green bottled imported beer anyhow.

A half hour or so after it's supposed to begin, the director and producer introduce their film. Which is actually a digital video, if you want to get technical, and only 33 minutes long. It's dreadful. Thus our reticence to mention the title of the film, because while CC can't in good conscious recommend it by any means, we're loathe to be thought of as playa haters. We did after all get free drinks at the Soho House, plus the Black Room has this lovely new car smell with their enormous leather recliners. Then, you have the damask carpet and the individual metal ice buckets between each chair perfect for chilling your own bottle of Cristal. All in all, it's a pretty sweet space. If another director/producer team invited us there for a screening of their film, no matter how inane and pointless, we'd probably go. Those chairs are perfect for napping in too, though with only 40 or so seats in the place, the filmmakers are pretty certain to see you catching a disco nap during their movie.

[Memo to the editor, director and producer of this mystery project: If you're going to announce to the audience you didn't know much about the topic before you were hired, we're going to kind of wonder why you're the director of this movie. And inexplicably in it, filmed walking through doorways and talking on your cell phone, in between the shots of geeky talking heads. Also, that computerized voice wasn't cool or "accessible to young people" even when Radiohead used it on OK Computer, let alone as your transition theme. Just a word to the wise.]

Posted by karen at October 29, 2004 8:03 AM