Some evenings want a slower reel, and this is what that looks like. Danielle is 170 cm, curvy, and dresses almost entirely in dark colours because she decided years ago that it saves time. Her black hair is straight and heavy enough to swing when she turns her head. Her brown eyes are steady in a way that quietens a table. Late twenties, and comfortable in it, which shows in how little she fusses: one very good coat, a heavy fragrance, nothing that rattles or catches the light when she moves.
She is calm rather than cool, and the difference matters within about a minute. Her attention settles on one person and then stays there for the evening. She speaks English carefully, with a habit of pausing before she answers that makes whatever follows worth the wait, and she never rushes to fill a gap. Old cinema is the genuine passion, poetry is the private one she rarely mentions first, and museums are the reason she moved her afternoons around.
Her WC2 evening belongs to the Prince Charles Cinema, the double bill house a few steps off Leicester Square where the print is often thirty five millimetre and the audience applauds the projectionist by name. Dinner comes first, somewhere low lit with no music playing, and the argument about what you have just watched happens on the walk back rather than in the lobby, because she refuses to judge anything within fifty yards of the screen.
South Kensington is home, and she is travelling until Thursday the 24th, so late evenings near Leicester Square reopen from her return. Ask booking to pencil in the first of them and it will be held.
Her home stage is South Kensington, and she travels from there to the venues this house covers. Her full listing sits with the rest of the company on the companions page.