Upscale and indie cinemas are gorgeous, writes Kate Jinx, but megaplexes are worth celebrating too: a rite of passage for teenagers learning to love film
I remember receiving a stream of
Late Night texts in 2014, from a Melbourne friend who was incensed that the Greater Union cinema on Russell Street was being torn down – its incredible wood-panelled lobby walls thrown into scrap, its projectors shut off for good. Emily made a deal with one of the crew hired to gut the place and managed to salvage two neon lights before the skip bins were retrieved at dawn.
By that point I was fatigued by the sheer number of cinemas that had closed during my own cultural lifetime, and vowed never to frequent whatever business would rise from its ashes. Four years later I found myself checking into the hotel on that very site, while visiting from
Sydney to host a post-screening Q&A at the Melbourne international film festival. The popcorn might stop popping, but life moves on. I get it.