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Disney introduced InfinityVision at this year’s CinemaCon, positioning it as a certification for premium large‑format (PLF) auditoriums that meet or exceed undisclosed standards for screen size, brightness and sound quality. While the name sounds like a Marvel spin‑off, the label applies to any film, not just superhero titles. Disney claims roughly 300 screens worldwide already carry the badge, though a public directory has yet to appear. The timing is strategic: Disney’s Avengers: Doomsday is slated for a December debut that coincides with the release of the third Dune film, which has secured a limited run on coveted Imax screens. By promoting InfinityVision, Disney hopes to reassure audiences that alternative PLF venues—such as Dolby, RPX and other branded auditoriums—can deliver an equally spectacular experience, a tactic the author dubs screenmaxxing. Screenmaxxing has become a lifeline for a theatrical sector under pressure from streaming and rising ticket prices. Even the smallest multiplex PLF screens dwarf the televisions owned by the majority of consumers, yet theatres cannot simply charge a $5 premium for a larger screen; they need to sell a demonstrably superior visual and auditory package. Today’s market offers a bewildering array of PLF options, especially in cities where multiple chains compete. Directors like Ryan Coogler (Sinners) and the team behind Project Hail Mary use the variety of formats as a marketing hook, explaining aspect‑ratio differences and visual nuances to fans. Even legacy formats have resurfaced: Paul Thomas Anderson’s One Battle After Another revived the rarely used VistaVision, an analog high‑definition process dormant for half a century, alongside traditional 70mm and Imax prints. Adding to the mix, a new digital projector brand—HDR by Barco—is being rolled out to compete with Dolby‑branded auditoriums. The technology promises deeper blacks, heightened contrast and unprecedented brightness, and has already been adopted by the Alamo Drafthouse chain for its dine‑in locations. Many of these Barco‑equipped rooms also feature Dolby Atmos sound, though the author cautions against conflating sound systems with projection technologies. To gauge HDR by Barco’s performance, the writer visited the Brooklyn Alamo Drafthouse, one of three New York venues using the system (the others are Regal locations equipped with RPX screens). While the recent Super Mario Galaxy movie showcased the projector’s vivid palette, the reviewer chose a more demanding test: Lee Cronin’s horror‑reimagining The Mummy. Compared with a prior Dolby projection of the same film, the Barco version delivered a noticeable boost in clarity—especially in shadow‑heavy scenes—without the oversharpening or motion‑smoothing artifacts sometimes seen on consumer TVs. The experience was “brighter” yet retained natural colour balance, offering a subtle but real upgrade over standard cinema projection. Despite the technical gains, the piece questions whether another premium brand can truly shift audience habits. The author argues that healthy competition among laser‑projection systems may prevent theatres from settling for “dim” images, encouraging cinephiles to seek out PLF venues. However, blockbuster spectacles like the climactic battle in Avengers: Endgame remain visually underwhelming even on an InfinityVision‑certified screen, suggesting that format alone cannot rescue a film’s visual impact. Ultimately, the most compelling case for premium formats may be the construction of genuine Imax theatres, not retrofits. True Imax auditoriums prioritize height over width, delivering an immersive field of view that even high‑end digital projectors struggle to match. Yet only a few dozen such venues exist worldwide; most “Imax” screens are simply Dolby, Barco or RPX rooms equipped with the brand’s hardware. Screenmaxxing, therefore, is likely to remain a niche pursuit rather than a universal solution for the exhibition industry. While hunting for the loudest, sharpest presentation can be entertaining, an overabundance of competing formats may reinforce the perception that a standard movie‑going experience is insufficient—potentially undermining the very audience the industry hopes to attract.

The Chisenhale Gallery in London greets visitors with an unsettling aroma that oscillates between sweet butter and a harsh, chemical perfume, immediately signalling that the exhibition is designed to disturb both mind and nostrils.At the heart of the show stands a massive mobile health unit – a former US‑British field ambulance acquired at a military auction. Its presence transforms the pastel‑painted gallery into a simulated triage zone, complete with faded chemical warnings, triage forms and evacuation maps. Among the discarded paperwork, a single sheet reveals that the vehicle participated in decontamination after the 2018 Novichok attack on double‑agent Sergei Skripal, adding a chilling historical layer to the installation.The surrounding walls are coated in Baker‑Miller pink, the hue once tested in US jails to calm aggressive inmates. This “drunk‑tank pink” juxtaposes the sterile pink of the health unit, blurring the line between soothing and coercive environments.Beyond visual cues, the exhibition assaults the senses with a bespoke scent concoction. Crowther blends substances derived from powdered milk – a symbol of industrialised sustenance – with hexadecanal, a naturally occurring skin compound known to dampen aggression in men while provoking it in women, and famously emitted by newborns. The result is a “sweetly putrid” odor that feels both familiar and alien, prompting visitors to question whether they are inhaling rubber, milk, or something more sinister.Through this multisensory tableau, Crowther frames colour and smell as potential psy‑ops, probing how basic human experiences can be industrialised and militarised. She asks: What does health mean when it is administered by the state or corporate entities? Who truly benefits when care becomes a tool of surveillance and control?Visitors navigate a space that oscillates between comfort and exploitation, leaving them to wonder whether they are being nurtured or manipulated. The exhibition runs at Chisenhale Gallery until 14 June 2026, inviting the public to confront the uneasy overlap of medical aid, military apparatus and sensory manipulation.

For the first time, two preliminary pencil sketches by E.H. Shepard for the beloved children's book Winnie-the-Pooh have been made public. These unseen drawings were created before the book's publication in 1926 and showcase Shepard's early thoughts on bringing A.A. Milne's iconic character to life.The sketches, shared by Shepard's family to mark the centenary of the book, provide insight into the artist's creative process. One drawing, captioned 'Climbing very cautiously up the stream,' depicts Pooh and his friends Christopher Robin, Piglet, and Owl. It was intended for Chapter VIII, where Christopher Robin leads an expedition to the North Pole.The sketch shows Pooh, Christopher Robin, Piglet, and Owl on an adventure. Photograph: Courtesy of Peter HarringtonThe other sketch is a delicate study for Chapter III, where Pooh and Piglet go hunting and nearly catch a Woozle. According to Philip W Errington, a senior specialist at Peter Harrington Rare Books, these drawings showcase Shepard's 'absolute, vibrant creativity' and exceptional skill in rendering movement.The drawings will be exhibited at Peter Harrington Rare Books in London as part of a special exhibition starting on April 17. Errington noted that it is 'extraordinarily rare to encounter preliminary drawings of Winnie-the-Pooh that capture what might be called the first moment of inspiration.'

Cédric Klapisch’s new film, Colours of Time, is an entertaining sentimental fantasy that invents a romantic backstory to the career of Claude Monet and his contemporary, the pioneering photographer Félix Nadar. The film follows Adèle, a fictional young woman who makes a fateful journey to find her errant mother in Paris during the belle époque, leaving behind her sweetheart and the village where she was brought up, in the countryside near Monet’s home town of Le Havre.The story intercuts enjoyably between past and present, as Adèle's life and times are rediscovered by her descendants. In the present day, dozens of descendants of Adèle are contacted by lawyers and PRs working for a property company that wants to build a vast new shopping mall, which would mean bulldozing Adèle’s derelict cottage. This garrulous ragtag bunch must give their collective consent, leading to a journey of discovery that uncovers historical secrets: photos, letters, and even what might be a painting.The film takes a pretty un-subversive view of art and artists but is executed with brio and comic gusto, particularly in the “past” sections. Suzanne Lindon’s performance has charm, and the detective work is interspersed ingeniously with what Adèle in her own day discovers about her errant mother. The film culminates in a wacky climax when the present-day claimants have an Ayahuasca psychoactive experience, sending them back in time to encounter historical culture icons in person at an exhibition.Colours of Time is a film that requires a sweet tooth, but it’s tasty. It’s set to hit UK cinemas from 17 April.

The V&A; East museum in east London has finally opened its doors, offering a diverse and rich collection that celebrates art, design, and culture from around the world. Outside the museum, a five-meter-tall sculpture by Thomas J Price stands as a generic representation of east London youth, sparking concerns about the homogenization of individuality.Upon entering the museum, visitors are greeted with a delightful gallery showcasing items from the new museum's collection. A constructivist rug by Eileen Gray complements Derek Jarman's punk set designs and costumes by Vivienne Westwood and Rei Kawakubo. Althea McNish's glorious printed fabrics take center stage, demonstrating how a designer working within mass production infrastructures can have a profound influence on post-war Britain's look.The museum's collection explores themes of colonial expansion, imperial violence, and the integration of art into everyday life. A display on William Morris's connection to nearby Walthamstow highlights the importance of pegging objects to their place of production. A sinuous wooden armchair by Alvar Aalto and a talismanic shirt inscribed with the Qur'an showcase how everyday items can be invested with restorative properties.The museum's curatorial strategy encourages visitors to choose their own route and make their own connections. The inaugural temporary exhibition, 'The Music Is Black: A British Story', uses headphones with a sensor to guide visitors through a labyrinth of videos, costumes, sculptures, and photographs chronicling Black British music.

Ron Timehin's photograph, taken at Labadi, a popular tourist resort in Accra, Ghana, offers a unique glimpse into the lives of the local community. The image features five Ghanaians, a ruined farm building, and an elegant horse, which adds a touch of majesty to the scene. Timehin aimed to capture the community's daily life, traditions, and cultural heritage in a collaborative way, allowing the subjects to present themselves as they wanted to be seen. The photograph showcases the community's pride and resilience, highlighting their strong sense of identity and connection to their heritage. The community, centered on fishing, is known for its strong sense of unity and mutual support. Timehin was drawn to the way they look after each other and take pride in their community. The photograph also features a Ghanaian flag, symbolizing national pride and cultural identity. Timehin's project began when he was approached by a charity called My Runway Group, which organizes cultural exchange programs. The project allowed him to document the community and share some culture between the UK and Ghana. His work has been shortlisted for the Sony World Photography Awards 2026, and an exhibition of his images will be held at Somerset House in London.

The Victoria & Albert Museum has acceded to a Chinese printer’s demand to excise several maps and photographs from recent exhibition catalogues, illustrating how Beijing’s censorship apparatus can reach even Western cultural publications. According to documents obtained by The Guardian through freedom‑of‑information requests, the Chinese company C&C Offset Printing flagged a 1930s British‑empire trade‑route map as non‑compliant with the standards of the General Administration of Press and Publication (GAPP). The printer instructed the museum to either delete the page or replace it with an approved image. Faced with the request, V&A; staff approved the change, acknowledging that the map’s depiction of China’s borders triggered the rejection. An internal email noted the delay caused by the edit, stating that the catalogue’s production was paused while the offending page was revised. Cost considerations lie at the heart of the decision. Like the British Museum, Tate and the British Library, the V&A; routinely commissions Chinese printers because they can deliver catalogues at roughly half the price of European firms. This financial incentive, however, comes with the implicit obligation to obey Chinese content restrictions covering topics such as Buddhism, Taiwan, Tibet, Tiananmen Square and other subjects deemed politically sensitive. The museum’s compliance extended beyond the map issue. For a catalogue accompanying the 2021 Fabergé exhibition, the V&A; also removed a photograph of Lenin after the printer warned that the image could be considered “sensitive” by Chinese authorities. V&A; spokespersons described the alterations as “minor” and asserted that the institution maintains “close editorial oversight” when printing abroad. They emphasized that any change that would compromise the narrative would be rejected, and that the museum would relocate production if necessary. Other cultural bodies have responded differently. The British Museum declined to comment on how it handles similar censorship requests for at least eight publications printed in China, while the British Library claimed it has never encountered such issues. Tate Publishing, meanwhile, confirmed that Chinese printers have produced several of its children’s books but insisted that no content has ever been altered at a printer’s behest. A UK publisher who preferred anonymity highlighted the trade‑off: Chinese printing is markedly cheaper, yet the process introduces delays while materials are screened for politically sensitive content, especially references to Tibet or disputed borders. Former employee of C&C Offset Printing remarked that complying with Chinese government directives is standard practice for domestic firms, underscoring the systemic nature of the censorship. These revelations raise broader questions about the ethical implications of cost‑driven outsourcing for publicly funded institutions and the extent to which they are willing to compromise editorial independence to meet budgetary targets.

“You can be the thickest bloke and still think you know more about football than a woman,” declares Jo, a Newcastle supporter, in the opening section of the Away From Home: The Untold Stories of Women Football Fans exhibition. The line sets the tone for a showcase that confronts the stereotype that only men can truly understand the game.Curated by Professor Stacey Pope, a leading sociologist of women’s football, and Durham University’s David Wright, the exhibition occupies the Beacon of Light pop‑up beside Sunderland’s Stadium of Light. It chronicles the presence of women on the terraces of the North‑East since the 1950s, using archival footage, hand‑sewn silk scarves and newly commissioned soundscapes to recreate match‑day rituals.The display is anchored by 22 recorded interviews with Newcastle and Sunderland fans, complemented by a broader research base of 200 interviews conducted over two decades. Pope notes that while the last thirty years have seen a “feminisation of sports fandom,” true gender parity remains elusive.Recent data underscore the exhibition’s relevance. In a survey of 2,000 male fans, three‑quarters expressed overt or covert misogynistic attitudes toward women in football. Moreover, the anti‑racism charity Kick It Out reported that sexist incidents at matches have doubled from the start of the season to the end of February compared with the previous campaign.Beyond statistics, the exhibition explores structural barriers: stadium designs that prioritize male comfort, safety concerns on public transport, and societal expectations that push women out of the stands after marriage or motherhood. As Pope explains, “football is sexist, what do you expect?” – a reality the exhibit seeks to expose and challenge.Visitors can experience mixed‑media installations that blend personal anecdotes with broader themes of loss, renewal, and the collective euphoria of a match. One soundscape, for example, transforms complaints of cold, mud, and hunger into the roar of a crowd as the game begins, illustrating how football has resonated with women for generations.The exhibition runs until the end of the season and is also available online for a wider audience.

The Guardian’s latest photo feature offers a vivid look at Steve McQueen’s exhibition titled “Grenada”, a work that intertwines art and history through a series of compelling images.Central to the visual narrative are flowers that have “witnessed horrific things”, serving as silent witnesses to the island’s turbulent past. The photographs juxtapose the natural beauty of the flora with the lingering shadows of colonial trauma, inviting viewers to contemplate the complex legacy of Grenada.Each picture is carefully composed to highlight the contrast between the bountiful landscape and the weight of historical memory, underscoring McQueen’s intent to provoke reflection on how beauty can coexist with suffering.By presenting the exhibition in a picture‑rich format, the article allows readers to experience the emotional depth of the work without leaving the page, emphasizing the power of visual storytelling in contemporary art.