It could have been an ABC Minors session circa 1950. There was the same incessant chatter drowning out the ads, the same clapping and cheering as the hero appeared on screen, the same whoops of appreciation during action sequences. Only the slightly raunchy comments revealed that these were adult cinemagoers, almost exclusively female who were letting their fantasies fly free at a late night screening of Dirty Dancing.

I should have had a big girl along to look after me but I didn’t know.