It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a cinema-loving man or woman in possession of a good projector, must be in want of an appreciative audience and a respectable picture house in which to put them. According to general consensus, its auditorium must be dark, comfortable with room to securely place a cup or glass, a small to medium-sized snack, and a few sundry items for comfort and convenience. Furthermore, leg room must be ample and the main feature prompt to ensure the screening experience is not besmirched by factors that may have otherwise been avoided. It is then the job of the projectionist to provide a seamless presentation in sound and vision that runs alongside the ideals of the film makers' artistic intent. If all these expectations are managed and followed to the letter, and the film itself appeals to the taste of the cinemagoer, and so long as no outside factors have cause to spoil or interrupt proceedings, then an intensely satisfying evening will be had by all.
It is therefore with great sadness that I should read a piece by Alex O'Connell within the pages of The Times (Times Modern, Friday 16 March 2012, pg 3) that highlights the dwindling need for the mighty projectionist in modern times, and which reads as follows:
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