London isn’t what you think. Or at least, it’s not what I thought it was. I moved here from the States back in 2016 and was shocked to find that it doesn’t perpetually rain. Not really, anyway. It drizzles. It’s gray. It’s a mild climate year-round, but it also gets weirdly hot and bone-chattering chilly. These nasty habits are made worse by the advent of the fall season (sorry, “autumn”).

As we lurch into the colorless doldrums of the winter season after our blessed week-long summer, the shining neon lights of the British Film Institute, looming gracefully over the River Thames, are a perennial comfort. The BFI sits on the Southbank, not far from the cabochon glow of the Winter Market, set to spring up like a luminiferous metal flower in November.

Read the full article at RogerEbert.com.