Surya Anthony goes in search of a seat at The Nickel Cinema in Clerkenwell
For a cinema that specialises in B-movies and deep cuts, The Nickel in Clerkenwell is surprisingly difficult to get into.
Scroll through the listings and you’ll start to notice a pattern. More often than not, there’s a “sold out” tag sitting next to the films you were considering. Leave it too late, and your options narrow quickly. Turn up on the day without a ticket, and you’ll likely leave with nothing more than the smell of fresh popcorn.
That scarcity is part of the appeal. When tickets go, they go quickly. And they do go quickly. Speaking briefly with the proprietor back in December, it was clear this wasn’t accidental. The cinema is built around the idea that people will show up if the programming is right. Judging by how often showings are booked out, that bet is paying off.
The cinema itself is quite small (around 40 seats), right on Clerkenwell Road, and it feels focused rather than scaled down. The programme is released monthly, with a mix that leans heavily into cult and independent cinema: John Cassavetes, John Woo, David Lynch, subversive anime, and late-night horror. Not the kinds of films you’ll find playing a mile west in Leicester Square.
I’m not writing this sight unseen. I did have the chance to attend the premiere of Remi Milligan: Lost Director there in December, which offered a sense of how the space works. Before the screening, most people gathered at the bar downstairs, which doubles as a social space. The walls are lined with film memorabilia and cultural icons (that famous one of Iggy Pop), and the entrance is filled with old posters and vintage film paraphernalia. It’s basically a film geek’s dream, in the best way.
It’s easy to fall into clichés about analogue versus digital, or to frame places like this as a reaction to the current moment. The Nickel does fit that mould, though. It doesn’t feel corporate. There are no screens flashing at you before you’ve even bought a ticket, no sense that the experience has been overly packaged. Instead, it feels tactile and considered, with a clear appreciation for the craft of filmmaking. A cinema for film lovers, clearly built by film lovers.
I still haven’t managed a straightforward visit. Partly bad timing, partly poor planning; I’ve tried to book screenings, missed out, and even turned up hoping for a spare seat, only to find a full house. Missing out on a showing of Husbands still stings slightly. I’ll get a seat eventually. For now, the fact that I haven’t quite managed it yet might be the strongest recommendation I can give.
See what’s on at The Nickel Cinema here – good luck!
