FILM

Back in the early 80s the cinema industry appeared to be in terminal decline. The multiplex revolution changed all that, but there’s still not enough choice, reckons Robin Askew.

Charles Anderson's invaluable but sadly out of print book 'A City and its Cinemas' reveals that there were once 61 cinemas in Bristol. From the Premier in Gloucester Road to Princess Pictures in Zetland Road, Coliseum Pictures in Park Row and the ornate Regent in Castle Street, virtually every neighbourhood had its own fleapit. Bedminster alone once boasted seven cinemas, and until 1966 there was even a cinema in St. Pauls: the Metropole on City Road. Many were converted theatres. Others were purpose built during the boom years. The first of these was the Queen's Picture House in Peter Street. This boasted a revolutionary sliding roof to let all the stale fag smoke out when punters started to choke. Classy, huh?

Those that weren't done for by the Blitz fells victim to telly, and Anderson concluded his 1983 book with a gloomy prognosis, lamenting that just seven cinemas remained. My predecessor as Venue's Film Editor, Eugene Byrne, remembers the period well: "My time as Venue's film section editor coincided with the commercial and artistic nadir of the film industry. In the early-to-mid-eighties, UK cinema admissions hit an all-time low."

As much to blame as the lamentable quality of product was the state of the cinemas themselves. "In the early 1980s Bristol had a large number of fleapits that no punter would want to go into nowadays. Smoking was still allowed in most of them, and many former grand auditoria had been split into smaller studios so they could show more than one movie. They were the forerunners of your modern multiplex, only not as big, and (in some cases) not as clean.

"The other thing which the old 'uns forget, and the youngsters don't believe, is that some of the fleapits tried to stay in business by showing porn films. Sometimes these were downright exploiters, though sometimes they were European art movies that happened to have a bit of sex in and were released here badly dubbed and under a more blatant name. While the dirty mac brigade might have kept some afloat financially, the very fact that a cinema was advertising 'Danish Virgins in Custard XXX' in one screen put respectable punters off wanting to go and see 'A Room with a View' on another.

"But if the commercial sector was in trouble, the independents were hitting their stride. The Arnolfini had had a cinema since the late seventies, and a certain type of punter would gladly go down in their Citroen 2CVs and watch any old bollocks in beard-stroking contemplation as long as it was foreign. Fair play, though; if Jean-Luc Godard made a load of shit, Truffaut almost never did. Then in 1982, the Watershed opened, and suddenly a whole new world of intelligent film-making - in English! - was available too."

Eugene identifies the turning point as 1985 when the Odeon in Union Street reopened after much-needed refurbishment and investment. "The cream of Bristol attended the opening, a gala premiere of Bond movie 'A View to a Kill'," he recalls. "It had Roger Moore in. It was crap. But in that way you'd expect a Roger Moore Bond flick to be, so it looked great, and we were sitting in comfortable seats in a smoke-free auditorium watching a big screen with a fabulous sound system. Suddenly, it was worth going to the pictures again."

That's when I came in. Despite the Odeon pointing the way to the future, closures continued. The Gaiety in Wells Road, the Concorde in Stapleton Road (much loved by stoners because of its liberal attitude toward pot-smoking), the Europa next to the Holiday Inn (mostly given over to porn by the time of its demise) and the Studios 1234 in the Pithay were next to go. Then, in September 1994, something newfangled arrived from across the pond: Bristol's first multiplex cinema. The City's Great and Good (and as many Venue lowlifes as could blag free tickets) traipsed off to an anonymous retail and leisure park round the back of Temple Meads to gaze in awe upon the 14-screen magnificence of the new Showcase Cinema (a concrete block built on a marsh). A glamorous, star-studded event attended by the woman with the squeaky voice from the Police Academy movies, this gala opening has as its centrepiece the premiere of 'Speed' starring Keanu Reeves, which certainly put the state-of-the-art surround sound system through its paces. This was the future, and it looked grand. Well, kind of.

Alas, community cinemas couldn't compete. The really crappy ones were long gone. After a fight, the Orpheus in Henleaze had been saved. The ABC in Whiteladies Road wasn't so lucky. Like its sister cinema in Frogmore Street (now the O2 Academy), it had been carved up into smaller screens, but was still valued by the local community. A long battle to save it came to nothing and the historic cinema remains closed and dilapidated. Next to the ongoing Westmoreland House fiasco, is there a more shameful example of the failure of the planning system? Over in Bath, the opening of an Odeon multiplex led, eventually, to the single screen ABC shutting its doors - though these days, as Komedia, it does show the occasional film once more.

Throughout all this, the independent sector remained strong. The Watershed added a third screen to cope with demand and the welcome arrival of the volunteer-run Cube provided a space for local film-makers and activists as well as a forum for all manner of experimental multi-media events. Over in Bath, the Little Theatre continues to offer an upmarket alternative. So long as actresses continue to wear bonnets in movies, its future seems assured.

Now, of course, Bristol has five multiplexes, the latest addition being the luxurious Cinema De Lux in Cabot Circus, which has proven that punters are happy to spend a bit extra for a superior service. The multiplexes have, however, largely failed in their promise to deliver more choice. Rather than finding space for minority interest releases that might otherwise bypass the city, they simply play the same films on more screens. Exhibit A: the recent 'Wake Wood' - excellent reviews in the broadsheets, but no room for it on any of Bristol's 70 or so multiplex screens.

So what of the future? The industry is likely to have a comfortable recession, as it has during previous 'downturns'. Even with admission prices running ahead of inflation, a visit to the cinema remains a comparatively cheap evening out. An entire family can be entertained for the price of a single ticket to a big pop concert. What's more, there's now a burgeoning market in showing gigs and sporting events (as well as opera and ballet for the poshos) in digitally equipped cinemas, offering better views at a fraction of the price.

There are signs of a decline in admissions, however, which the industry, in its wisdom, has decided to blame on piracy rather than endless crappy, cynical remakes, sequels and other lazy moron fodder. Hence the enthusiasm for 3D, which also allows them to whack a few more quid on the ticket price to compensate for any reduction in bums on seats. Some critics - notably Mark Kermode - have argued that this will prove to be a short-lived fad, and that virtually no films benefit from being in 3D. Certainly, the industry's terror of the interweb and resistance to making films available in the format punters want to see when they want to see them seems rather misplaced. It's a truism that no new medium has ever seen off an old one (cinema didn't kill books or the theatre, telly didn't kill cinema, the internet won't kill telly, theatre, books or cinema) and cinema is especially well placed to survive if it concentrates on what it does best: showing quality films in a comfortable, communal viewing environment.

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