By Rory Carroll | The Guardian
It was a sun-drenched afternoon, with another autumnal heatwave cooking the concrete of Los Angeles, but Joanne Pilecki hugged her green fleece close as she stepped into a cinema foyer.
“I don’t take the cold too well,” said the 61-year-old, adjusting to the abrupt drop in temperature. “I have a sweater with me all the time.” Without it she would feel like an icicle by the end of The Intern, even though it was supposedly a heartwarming comedy. “I’m always cold. On planes I bring my own blankets.”
Other cinema-goers, in contrast, came precisely because it was cool, said Cerise Cobbs, who was manning the ticket booth at the Third Street Promenade shopping centre in Santa Monica. “Folks who don’t have good air con at home come, especially at weekends – they say they’ve got to get out of the house.”
