Just this past week Gwyneth Paltrow, who at present resides in London where she is set to star in David Auburn's play "Proof," said in an interview with a major British newspaper how much she likes spending time on this side of the Atlantic. "I love coming to London and seeing my friends here," Gwynnie, as the Britons like to call her, intoned. "And I have cracked the cultural barrier."

She may just have been referring to tomatoes and potatoes at the time, but for my part, I have found that the divide between cultures is often greater than we think and tends to pop up quite unexpectedly in places we had never thought to look for it. And occasionally, I think, attempting to bridge the gap is far less gallant a gesture than just raising your eyebrows while simultaneously cocking your head to one side and exclaiming, "Really? How fascinating!"

But, you say, that would be narrow-minded, lazy and possibly borderline discriminating? It may. Then again, it may not.

Very recently I went to see "Joy Ride" in London's West End with an Italian acquaintance of mine. As we walked home from the Tube station I was still contemplating the film's ending, which had initially annoyed and subsequently intrigued me. Suddenly she turned to me and said, "Why wasn't there an intermission during the movie?"

Huh? What? Intermission? At the movies? Familiar with the concept from occasional visits to the theater or opera, I was bewildered to hear of it in the context of a regular feature film.

Bewilderment gave way to disbelief when it was explained to me that in Italy it is the custom to show movies in two parts, interspersed with a 15-minute break to give people the opportunity to have a smoke, buy a snack or just use the facilities. In fact, I was given to understand, Italian audiences have been known to demand the intermission, by way of high-pitched whistles, if the need for a nicotine hit or that double espresso suddenly takes precedent over the storyline.

Take a moment here and imagine what would happen at a multiplex in New York City if, half way through the feature presentation, the screen suddenly went black and the lights came on.

Somehow I don't see people slowly sauntering out into the foyer, chatting gaily over a cappuccino and bite-sized pastry or leisurely taking a stroll to the ladies room. A mob of angry patrons crowding around the nearest unlucky theater attendant, accompanied by shouts of, "What the fuck is going on? I paid for the whole goddamn movie, goddammit!" would be the more likely scenario.

Ask yourself then, is this a cultural gap that we should make a concerted effort to bridge? I rather think not. I for one want to go on watching my movies in one piece, thankyouverymuch, and will happily get there in time to take care of the bathroom bit before the opening credits roll.

Nope, no intermission at the movies here I told my friend. I'm afraid we've never heard of such a thing. "Oh well," she said, "you have to come and visit me in Naples sometime and then I will take you to the cinema and you'll see it for yourself."

Really? Can't wait. I'm sure it'll be fascinating.