There has always been an element of the magical and ephemeral about cinema: the back wall that becomes a fourth dimension into transient worlds, lit up by the projector for a couple of hours, before going blank and silent again. It's dark in there and infused with romance, whether you're sitting there alone, dreaming about the film, or with someone, holding hands, and dreaming about your companion.
The transition period between the lights going up and stumbling blinking out into the "real" world outside the cinema doors is often an odd, disorientating one. But imagine both the film and the cinema disappearing after the lights go up, and you've wandered home. You walk by the next day, and there's nothing on the spot where you saw the film except displaced air and tyre tracks on the gravel, leading into the horizon like the hoof-prints of some post-modern cowboy's horse.
Meet the Cinemobile, Ireland's travelling cinema, which has just started its permanent tour of the country after over a year in the planning. Foot-and-mouth disease delayed the launch by several weeks, but the show is now definitely on the road. There are three such cinemas in France and one in the Scottish Highlands.
It is May Day in Prosperous, Co Kildare. The rare intense sunlight makes everything glow: the village pubs, the bright gardens with their startled flowers, the dust rising from the busy road that bisects the village, the bicycles winking silver in the car park outside Christy's Pub.
Parked alongside Christy's is the enormous, jaw-dropping Mercedes Cinemobile with fields, hills, houses and a length of film reel painted on the sides. The bicycles belong to the children and teenagers of Prosperous, population well short of 1,000. They are agog at the new arrival in the village, riding circles around the truck, running up and down the stairs and giggling madly all the while.
The idea of having a Cinemobile for Ireland came from Lelia Doolan, who saw one in France and was smitten by the idea. The National Millennium Committee came up with a large chunk of the £500,000 needed to buy and fit out the truck, and other sponsors also helped on a smaller scale: the Irish Film Board, ESAT Fusion, the ESB, Film Institute of Ireland, RTE, The Arts Council, and the National Lottery through the Arts Council of Northern Ireland.
Doolan is now chairwoman of the Galway-based Cinemobile project. The two drivers, who work one week on and one week off, are Terry Farnell and Eugene Keogh. The driver on the rota also acts as the projectionist. "We wanted to bring the tradition of cinema back to rural Ireland," explains project director Celine Curtain, who is doing a fair bit of running up and down the steps of the Cinemobile herself.
The Cinemobile arrived earlier in the morning at the village and was set up by this week's driver, Terry Farnell. It takes a considerable stretch of the imagination to try and visualise how a mere truck can transform into a 100-seater cinema. Mind you, the truck is not mere at all: it is huge. "The largest legal vehicle of this size," says Farnell, who is becoming used to stopping traffic as he drives the highways and byways of the country.
It works like this . . . I think. The seats are fixed to a floor, parts of which also double as inner walls when closed, so that they overhang the central seating area. When open, the sides of the truck fold down and out, and the floor is hinged shut. The screen, which travels sideways, is turned to hang widthways. The projection room is located behind the cab seat.
There is one flight of steps up to the truck (with its own little foot-and-mouth mat at the bottom), and a ramp at the other end for wheelchair access. Not a week into the itinerary yet, and the ramp has already been used twice. The floor is even raked, for that authentic cinema experience. You would never believe you were in a truck.
How long does it take to set up and collapse the cinema? Hours? Days? "It's all done with remote control. I just push buttons," Farnell says, with evident relief. "It takes 45 minutes each time. A child could do it!" However, it's unlikely that any child will ever get their paws on this expensive piece of technology - but should the driver fall ill, all he has to do is call for a small child to create the cinema.
The Cinemobile spends two nights in each location, and shows three films a day. One in the morning for primary schools, an afternoon show for secondary schools, and an 8 p.m. show for everyone else. The intention is to change the films every four weeks or so. In Prosperous on May Day, they showed The Boy From Mercury, Chicken Run and About Adam. Admission prices are £2.50 for a child and £4 for an adult. Curtain has driven all round Ireland, sussing out possible venues for the cinema. "I met with all the Arts Officers, and asked them to locate two or three locations in their areas that they thought might be responsive to the project. And I had a map on the wall of my office marked with all the towns that already had cinemas. Then I went on the road to check places out, get a feel for them, and also make sure there was somewhere to park."
Curtain is currently also out on the road, preceding the driver by putting up advance posters in towns. However, this is just a temporary arrangement. The Cinemobile is actively looking for contacts with members of the public in each of the places they will be travelling to. They hope to find people who are interested in film and who would publicise the arrival of the Cinemobile for them in the future as unofficial Friends of the Project.
There is a permanent group of teenagers and children outside the Cinemobile in Prosperous. The lads are swinging hurleys and pretending not to be interested, talking about having a match instead of going to the cinema. They are remarkably shy about giving their names; but later, at 8 p.m., I spot them all scampering up the steps to watch About Adam, the hurleys abandoned somewhere along the way.
The girls are much more honest, and all chorus that they'll be going tonight. "This is such a great hang-out place for us," enthuses Sharon Condon, and her friend Evelyn Lam. "Usually everyone just goes home and you don't see them again, but everyone is coming here today."
"When you're in it, you can't believe it's a truck," marvels Alison Palmer. "We'll probably come tomorrow night too." They all say they'll come again the next time the Cinemobile comes to the village.
ALL the time, people are stopping their cars to pull in off the road and look at the truck. "Come in and have a look," Curtain urges, saying later, "you must let people inside to look, and to ask questions. I love thinking that, in a couple of days, people will be walking past, and there will be no trace left of us, just like a circus."
A man gets out of his car to look around inside. He tries out one of the cherry-red seats. "You don't have any double seats at the back!" he exclaims, half-joking, half serious. "Where are the love seats?"
No love seats and, alas for the younger members of the audience (and perhaps some adults), absolutely no food or drink. "No popcorn, no ice-cream?" squeal the teenagers. They consume their goodies in the car park before they go in. "We have to try and keep it clean," Farnell explains. "And since the floor becomes the wall, it would be impossible, it'd be a mess overnight."
Once the lights go down and About Adam starts, the boisterous audience of some 30 - all but two of whom are teenagers - settle down astonishingly swiftly. There isn't a word, as Adam begins his voyage of seduction with that impossibly good-looking Dublin family. Wherever the hurleys are at this moment, it's a case of out of sight, out of mind.
To find out when the Cinemobile is coming to an area near you, call 091539522 or go to the website www.cinemobile.net