“It was like having Van Damme train for a new Kickboxer movie on the back of my seat”
As a man who is full of Christmas joy and actually embodies the spirit of the festive season, I decided to have a merry waltz around London’s Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. Within Winter Wonderland’s vast faux wooden crap shacks and foldable rollercoasters sat a 5D cinema. A cinema that has 5 dimensions…my mind was blown the second began thinking of the possibilities.
The dimensions as I know them:
1D = A singular line, or that ultra shit boy band…
2D = Something numerous, but flat like my ex-girlfriend’s chest.
3D = Perception of depth – Magnificently represented by the Nintendo 3DS
After doing some research on these 5 dimensions, I instantly gained 10 I.Q points and dinged up to level 5. Below is a chart I found on the internet about dimensions.
From what I gathered, living this cinematic experience would have the very real possibility of bending the fabric of time and reality wherein I could legitimately exit the shoddy looking theatre as the King of this newly formed plane of existence. Excitement flowed through my veins making me giddy with the thought.
I exchanged £10 of cold hard cash at a Token Booth for two slips of shit quality paper tickets, then made the thirty-second walk back to the space-time cinema and handed those into a scruffy guy imprisoned in a kiosk. In return, he gave my research partner and I a pair of Pikachu-yellow glasses each so we could fully realise ‘A Christmas Elf Does Drunk Santa’s Work’ (I forgot the title) in at least 3 dimensions.
After being beckoned in by a young lady who seemed brimming over with a barely controllable rage, we take our place in the 30 or so seat venue. Although I wasn’t expecting a brightly lit lobby with a coffee shop, a place selling Häagen-Dazs ice cream, and a shop to get sweets and drinks, I’ll still lambaste them for their lack of amenities.
I pop my little glasses on and find out that the right lens was significantly darker than the left, which was murky like my mind at this point. Turns out that my partner-in-crime’s glasses were the same. Thanks to this, my left eye has bionic vision compared of my now weak right eye. Thanks, Christmas.
“What had to be the saddest attempt at Christmas joy I have ever seen – it instantly killed me inside”
The movie started with a snowy scene badly projected on an uneven canvas screen. Above me, the ceiling produced bubbles to join us together with the film. They wept out from foamy holes next to the lights in what had to be the saddest attempt at Christmas joy I have ever seen – it instantly killed me inside. Shortly after, my slightly damp seat jolted to the left, and then to the right for us to better experience Santa’s sleigh whizzing around although the synchronicity between the film and my whiplash chair was unfathomable. Places where you’d expect the seats to crank around did nothing, and scenes which didn’t call for your neck to break still broke it anyway. It was like having Van Damme train for a new Kickboxer movie on the back of my seat.
The 3D was about as deep as Justin Bieber’s musical ability – in other words, totally shite, but the animation on the other hand was surprisingly good, even if it did portray Santa as a layabout lunkhead.
The seats in front blasted out air into the faces of the poor, lost souls in the room with me whenever the production needed to show us how wind feels…but only when the seats had clunked to a reclining position. Every other time the air blasts shot over my head. I’m 6ft 1.
All in all, £5 for a 6 minute experience which left me pondering on all the decisions I had ever made in my life, and what was the turning point that got me to this position. But as I’m full of Christmas glee, I shrugged off the fact that my neck was hanging on by a wish, my vision became mono, and my soul had been eaten away by the crushingly acidic attempt at spreading the spirit of Yuletide.