Now, can we stop asking for intervals at the cinema?

the brutalist a24
Share this Article:

With a 215-minute runtime and an epic scope, The Brutalist is arriving in UK cinemas with an interval built-in. But why will the fad never catch on?


Two-and-a-half hours into Killers Of The Flower Moon, it would be difficult to begrudge anyone begging Martin Scorsese for a quick loo break. The man’s 82 years old, for a start – surely he could appreciate the need for a call of nature?

And yet, when a handful of cinemas took it upon themselves to shoehorn a little break into the 206-minute epic in 2023, editor Thelma Schoonmaker called it “a violation”. Brady Corbet’s 215-minute The Brutalist, in UK cinemas this weekend, has earned its share of publicity for building in a nice little break after its first chapter. Cue the reignition of a debate which pops up every couple of years in filmic circles; should longer films bring back the half-time interval?

Though, in truth, the idea of bringing the interval “back” (which is how the question is always framed) feels like a bit of a misnomer. Throughout cinema’s hundred-and-a-bit year history, intermissions have rarely been applied with the same consistency as, say, the theatre (curiously, cinema and the theatrical interval are around the same age, the latter only introduced in the 1880s to stop people wandering in search of a jellied eel mid-Chekhov). Even during the golden age of the movie interval – the roadshow boom of the fifties and sixties – a film with an interval built-in was the exception, rather than the rule. Studios needed ways to drag audiences away from their new-fangled television sets, and films with epic scopes (and, accordingly, runtimes) were one way to do just that – think 4DX, only drier.

Read more: When a grumpy middle-aged man accidentally watches a film in 4DX

Still, nostalgia for a more romantic age of moviegoing has proved a powerful tool over the years. Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight (2015) is the most recent example of a big studio picture pulling the proverbial curtain across in a limited roadshow-style release. Unlike the theatre, however, the habit has never stuck. The idea of a break on the big screen is more likely to be seen by multiplexes as an attempt to jeopardise their two-shows-a-night business model than a chance to flog a significant number of M&Ms.

But while the cinemas might occasionally pipe up to posit adding intervals into films, the theatre industry is increasingly considering taking them out. Writing for The Times last year, Susannah Butter noted how increasing numbers of West End plays are choosing to test their audience’s bladders by doing away with the intermission altogether. Some stage directors believe younger audiences “appreciate a more immersive show without a pause (like a gig)”, rather than making the most of the chance to top up on red wine, apparently.

In fairness, few of these plays stretch uninterrupted beyond the three-hour mark, and the vast majority of shows in London’s theatre scene and beyond remain neatly bisected into two pieces (occasionally three). The economics of live theatre are also very different to the multiplex business model. While a small army of employees armed with brushes and bin bags can turn a cinema screen around for a second screening in a few minutes, theatres are generally capped at a single show each evening unless the story can account for hooking all the actors up to a slow-release coffee drip. Without an interval, the only chance a theatre has to peddle booze and ice cream is the half hour or so before the audience take their seats.

Crucially, though, the interval’s near-ubiquity at the theatre means it’s a part of the experience audiences have come to expect – to the point that up to 40% of a theatre’s income can now come from snacks and drinks sold mid-show. While cinemas might jump at the chance to get that kind of boost at their concessions stands during Oppenheimer, the idea of applying it universally is a tougher sell (I’m going out on a limb and saying no-one wants a pause mid-Hundreds Of Beavers). Without it, an interval might just leave casual movie-goers too confused to work the card machine.

Studios, meanwhile, have no incentive to make their films longer unnecessarily. While an A24-backed, awards-friendly offering like The Brutalist can happily chuck in a pre-planned interval without swinging its box office needle one way or the other, the majority of distributors won’t want to do anything to limit the number of screenings they can pack into the first two weeks of a release.  

Sadly, bar an industry-altering miracle, our collective dream of an interval looks to remain just that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to watch Abel Gance’s Napoléon. It’s only nine hours straight through; what could possibly go wrong…

Share this Article:

Related Stories

More like this