My local cinema is the Renoir in London’s Bloomsbury. I like supporting it, as it’s one of the few cinemas that takes film seriously. Originally built as part of the Brunswick Centre; one of the last, late 60’s, exercises in brutalism (architect Patrick Hodgkinson) and was to compliment that other 60s icon the Barbican in the City. But it was dogged by compromise and its ambition dramatically scaled down. It was eventually sold to Camden Council who promptly turned it into a slum . By the 90s the Centre was in a very sorry state with empty shops, vandalism and a general lack of investment. But the recent major renovation has seen it rise from the ashes to become a thriving part of Bloomsbury. It is now a desirable residence for many design conscious individuals – a very well known design/architectural magazine editor lives there (guess who?). But throughout the Brunswick’s shabby period I, along with a close friend, continued to pay our weekly visit to the dear old Renoir cinema. It still brandishes it’s 70s graphics and the friendly staff sport the familiar back T-shirts. I have come to think of it it as 'my' cinema - if there are more than a half dozen others in the auditorium I get quite affronted – ‘ Wow it’s pretty crowded tonight’, I would mutter to my companion. Over the years I have seen some astonishing films there and still do. More often that not I take pot luck. I did just that last week. Sergei Bodrov’s ‘Mogol’ is magnificent. For the ciematography alone it’s worth the 125 minutes. But it’s much more that that. It tells the epic story of Temadujin, better know as Genghis Khan (c 1162 – 1227) whose empire, at its height, covered one fifth of the planet. The dialog is in Mongolian – which is probably why this film is not getting the distribution it deserves. In my view the language is all the better for it, as transports you right to the heart of these people and their customs. The ever-changing landscapes are breathtaking and the stunning battle scenes give Ridley Scott a run for his money. So if you want to avoid sitting next to people munching through a smelly, three course meal, whilst guzzling down a bucketful of Coca Cola, texting their friends or verging on a passionate orgasm, make your next cinema visit to the Renior. Staying with film for the moment I had been trying for a long time to get a DVD of ‘The Pumpkin Eater’ 1964, directed by Jack Clayton. Based on Penelope Mortimer’s book it tells the story of a woman on the brink of a breakdown due to the philandering of her screenwriter husband. What makes it special – in addition to Clayton's beautifully sensitive direction – is Harold Pinter's rapier screenplay. It’s riddled with the physiological cruelty present in many marriages. Wonderfully acted by Ann Bancroft – at her most beautiful - and Peter Finch. Plus the added bonus of George Delarue’s haunting music score. A beautiful piece of 60’s British cinema, and a perfect complement to the Renoir.