If I had to guess which of Bangkok's remaining handful of porn theaters would play host to a proper movie premiere, I wouldn't have guessed the Laem Thong. Not in a million years. Back in 2009, during my lone trip to the Laem Thong, the experience I had there left me with a strong impression, one that ultimately convinced me that I would stop researching porn theaters.
The Laem Thong Theater, not quite a "lighthouse of culture."
It was a crisp December morning. The Laem Thong Theater stood proudly under the warm Bangkok sun; a lighthouse of culture buried deep in the labyrinthine metropolis.
In the theater's open air lobby, regaled in its fading 1970's decor, lounged a half dozen men all radiating destitution. Blood shot, insomniac eyes, shifting suspiciously, or starring blankly into unseen corners of despair betrayed their vice.
So much for the "lighthouse of culture." If this jilted group was any indicator, the Laem Thong Theater was Skid Row's living room. A place where hardcore addiction met abject poverty in the anonymous darkness of a picture hall. The goings on inside, I determined then and there, were best left undiscovered.
The lobby of the Laem Thong in 2009
My inquiries on that bright December morning came to a hard stop at the Laem Thong's front door, with no intentions of ever returning again. Anyway, it seemed all but guaranteed that the Laem Thong, like just about every other forlorn stand-alone theater in Thailand, would have a date with a backhoe in the years to come. Having the necessary documentation under my belt, there seemed little reason to ever visit again.
Blade signage - a rarity among Thai theaters - on the Laem Thong.
Fast forward six years. By some strange twist of fate - be it a slow rise in property value, or an owner who simply refuses to sell - the Laem Thong Theater is still standing. Skid Row's living room, alive and well half way into the twenty-teens.
In the six years since my initial survey, Thailand's dwindling number of stand-alone movie theaters have ever so slightly begun to creep into the collective national psyche. In some circles they have become objects of interest, if not for the nostalgia they invoke, then, perhaps, for some potential future use yet to be realized. The "what could be" if only there was a road map for how to sustainably reuse them.
Enter October 16th, 2015. Growing interest has at last led to action. A first step towards reclamation has taken place. No longer do Thailand's stand-alone movie theaters belong exclusive to the past. A theoretical future, in some limited capacity, seems to be on the horizon.
And so it was, this past October 16th. For what might very well be the first time in Thai history, a derelict porn theater temporarily reverted to its cinematic glory days. Director Jakrawal Nilthamrong, a rising star in Thailand's independent film scene, graced the screen of the Laem Thong Theater for the Thai premiere of his latest film, "Vanising Point."
For the first time in many years the name of a film graces the Laem Thong Theater's marquee.
Prepping the Laem Thong Theater for a film premiere crowd was no minor task. Years of bare minimum maintenance, combined with lax hygiene had taken a serious toll. Besides the basic issues - zero lighting on the marquee, seats with their stuffing spilling out, cracked and stained flooring, vermin - the air in the Laem Thong was so rancid that a mobile air-conditioning system had be brought in to cool and ventilate the place. Add to that the installation of a temporary sound and projection system, and the Vanishing Point premiere was indeed a major affair.
Scenes from the lobby.
Jakrawal Nilthamrong (center), director of Vanishing Point, poses for a photo with the Artistic Director of the Jim Thompson Art Center, Gridthiya Gaweewong (right). The Jim Thompson Foundation partially sponsored the event.
Pre-movie
Complimentary drinks at the concession stand.
Good times in a dank place
Auditorium shots while the movie was screening.
Part of the decision to use a run-down old porn theater for the premiere of Vanishing Point had as much to do with the plot of the film as it did as it did with any notion of reviving a dying movie theater. In Wise Kwai's Vanishing Point review, the film critic notes that "There's a sleazy 1970's vibe,"
"...an aesthetic that Jakrawal highlighted in choosing a cinema from that era as the venue for its debut in Bangkok. This business of life can be a dirty thing, and amid the mould and grime of Klong Toey's Laem Thong Theatre, [Jakrawal] wanted his audience to revel in it" (Full article here)
Nonetheless, for the first time in Thai history a barely breathing theater was used for a movie premiere. That's the kind of special event that such places should be preserved for.
In the very near future, two very bold events will be taking place in two of Bangkok's forlorn stand-alone movie theaters. Both events are one-and-done affairs, but their very existence should serve as a cultural petri dish for what could be the next step in Thailand's - or at least Bangkok's - urban evolution.
Tomorrow, October 16th, one of Thailand's rising-star film makers will be holding the Thai premiere of his latest film at the Laem Thong Theater in the Klong Toey area of town. "Vanishing Point" marks the feature film debut for director Jakrawal Nilthamrong. Prior to tomorrow's Thai unveiling, the film had been making the rounds at the international film festival circuit where it has received a broad array of accolades and picked up some impressive trophies along the way.
The Laem Thong Theater has been a cruising theater for years, but it will soon play host to a movie premiere
On October 22nd and November 5th, respectively, Vanishing Point will be getting theatrical release within the posh and polished halls of SF World Cinema in Bangkok and SF Maya in Chiang Mai.
Stay tuned for photos and text on Vanishing Point's Laem Thong Theater premiere.
The other event to take place in one of Bangkok's off-the-radar porn theaters will be happening at The Chinatown Rama Theater on Yaowarat Road on October 22nd.
"a unique experience bringing a lost era back to life through digital-analogue-dialogue in one of Chinatown's oldest movie theaters; an audio-visual spectacle using new and old techniques, a mix of instruments, performers and genres. A backdrop of moving images playing with different theatrical styles and fronted on stage with the most diverse mashup of BIG BEATZ to stimulate all your senses"
Situated in the lower level of a massive 1930's art deco office building, the theater defies almost all conventions of Thai movie theater typology. For that reason, along with its high profile location in the heart of Yaowarat, The Chinatown Rama has been the subject of fantasy of many a passerby; a veritable holy grail of cultural spaces for those with an eye for the exotic.
At long last, its dank confines will be seeing some action that won't result in a social disease.
The Chinatown Rama on Yaowarat Rd. The theater was also once known as the Sri Meuang and The New Laem Thong
What's so interesting about these two events? Well, lets look at it like this:
Both the Chinatown Rama and The Laem Thong Theater are purpose built entertainment venues that were conceived to accommodate mainstream, commercial audiences. Over the years, mainstream movie-going has retreated from Thailand's stand-alone movie theaters, as the trend in the trade has switched to national chain multiplex theaters that are wedded in consumer matrimony to space-eating, car-centric shopping malls. This physical, as well as cultural shift in movie-going has laid waste to an entire geography of entertainment that was once very much a community affair. Hundreds upon hundreds of such theaters have been reduced to rubble across the country. Others, in their fall from grace, have been reoccupied by the most subaltern segments of society: public sex fiends. All the power to the fiends for their choice of release, but there's better uses for these spaces.
For two under-the-radar porn theaters to be hosting independently organized arts-related events is an absolute sea chance in how these old spaces are perceived. Instead of being considered outmoded anomalies, they are on the verge of revival. Therein lies a huge opportunity for Thailand. Artists and film makers are improving old purpose-built entertainment spaces, reactivating and reclaiming them from what would otherwise be an all but guaranteed demise. By further promoting this kind of cultural reclamation, particularly with regard the country's robust but dwindling inventory of disused stand-alone movie theaters, Thailand's reputation as a Southeast Asian arts and culture hub will rise.
Cultural capital, we shouldn't forget, is a much needed asset in this ever globalizing world.
The following essay was submitted to me by a reader of this blog. If anybody else out there has any stories related to Southeast Asia's movie theaters they'd like to share, feel free to send them along. sea.theater@hotmail.com --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I remember going to the Rap Victory (Vietnamese, like Thai,
puts the name after the establishment, “rap” meaning “theater”) in District 5 to
see Chinese swordfight movies – “wuxia” I believe is the term for this film genre
– those were the pre-kung fu era movies that featured swordfights and wirework,
churned out like clockwork by the Shaw Brothers Studios. (Actually this was the
beginning of the Golden Harvest Studios’ reign, which burst through the silver
screen with “The Big Boss,” the debut feature of the kung fu movie legend known
as Bruce Lee.) Rap Victory’s birth certificate also cited a Vietnamese name:
for those who couldn’t pronounce “Victory” it was called Rap “Le Ngoc”
(“Crystal & Diamonds”- possibly a wishful allusion to the grander state of
affairs befitting an opera house?) In the press or advertisements it always
went by “Victory Le Ngoc.” Maybe there was a chandelier or two hanging in its
foyer? Memories fail me at this point.
I was still in junior high, which dated Rap Victory back to
late 1960’s. Come to think of it the theater predated even the 1968 Tet
Offensive, the turning point of the (North vs. South) Vietnam War, because I recall
the fiery hubris of this tense period making reference to its location as a
landmark, District 5 being one of the few districts in the city that saw troops
engaging in direct combat. On the northern end of the same district, where my
family lived, the Hotel Victory (no relation to the theater) which served as an
American GI’s barrack was blown up one night one block away from our house.
I was glad to see
from your blog that the theater still exists and even thrives (as of 2010) I
might say, even though back in the days, the motorcycles had a proper “parking
lot” (Saigon/HCMC has always been a two-wheeled vehicle town), a covered alley
to one side of the theater, as opposed to being kept right there in the lobby.
Maybe the new government was fond of the name “Victory,” therefore allowed the
theater during the early postwar years to keep its doors open – and its name
intact, albeit under a more apt Vietnamese translation: “Toan Thang” means
total victory. (Had it not been for its new indigenous name I would not have
recognized the place.) This is an indicative aspect of the war’s house-clearing
aftermath because most names belonging to the former regime, names of streets,
establishments, and institutions whether they ideologically stuck out like a
sore thumb or not were summarily changed, or shall I say, eradicated.
On the main drag of downtown Yala, just a stones throw from the city's lone cineplex, a classic mid-century movie theater stands partially buried behind a frontage of cheap new construction. Fortunately the concealment is only partial, giving the observant passerby a chance to notice the telltale fin sign jutting skywards off of the building's cubist concrete facade.
From the street, much of the Luna's facade is obscured by a new, frontal addition.
Neon letters spelling "LUNA" in English, Chinese and Thai span the vertical length of the sign, paying quiet homage to the theater's past.
Luna signage
The Luna Theater was built in 1960, at the height of the International Style movement in architecture. The builder was apparently a Singaporean transplant, which might explain why it has an uncommon aesthetic for a Thai theater (have a look at these Malaysian theaters for comparison).
Old Luna stayed in business until the mid-1990's, after which its auditorium was gutted and turned into a parking garage. Nothing therein remains that's worthy of documentation.
Parts of the lobby, fortunately, have been spared the hatchet, allowing the decorative details to remain visible for all who enter. In particular, the right lower lobby and accompanying staircase, which once led movie-goers up to balcony seating, seems to be fairly well preserved. If this colorful little sliver of preservation is any indicator, the Luna must have been a sight to see.
The Luna lobby, now part of a spa facility
Tiled flooring and stair in the lower lobby.
In its current iteration, the Luna Theater has been largely given over to a beauty spa. For this, the owner has smartly made use of the old theater's decorative lobby splendor. Beautification of the female form in an artfully designed cinema lobby: What a combo!
Ascending the wrap-around staircase like countless movie-goers from decades passed.
Inside the projection room.
Like a pair of rusted cannons on a forgotten battlefield, the Luna's carbon-arc projectors stand as a hidden reminder of the past.
Diesel generator, suggesting that Yala City did not have a steady electricity supply when the Luna Theater was built in 1960.
Luna signage - more akin to theaters from neighboring Malaysia/Singapore than Thailand.
Last week, at the invitation of a professor of philosophy from one of Bangkok's finest universities, I gave a talk about Thai movie theaters - past and present - and the nature of my work. It was a relaxed, informal talk, given to an active little class of about 25 students, all of whom politely endured a lecture in woefully bad Thai.
Before the students arrived, however, the professor and myself sat around talking movies, movie theaters and all things related. One bit of the conversation stood out in particular, so while its still fresh in my mind let me circumvent the actual order of my research to bring you this interesting missive from the annals of Thai movie theater history.
The IndraTheater, long abandoned in the heart of Nakorn Sri Thammarat
Said professor hails from Nakorn Sri Thammarat, southern Thailand's 2nd biggest city. A city which, in decades passed, surged with energy thanks to a quintet of massive stand-alone movie theaters huddled together in the heart of town.
The professor's invitation for me to speak to his class was inspired by a photo I posted of the Indra Theater - one of the downtown cinema halls in which he often took sanctuary as a youngster. Predictably, the Indra was the main focus of our talk.
From the many Hollywood classics the professor recalled watching at the Indra, our conversation evolved into one about the erstwhile profession and forgotten talents of the live movie dubber, once a staple of the Thai cinema industry. These live voice actors would entertain movie-audiences in real-time, lending Thai language to foreign films and dialogue to Thai films shot on 16 millimeter (which lacked an in-film audio track).
By many accounts, the dubber was the most important component of the Thai cinema spectacle. A good one could be more of a crowd pleaser than the actual movie stars in the film.
The key to being a good dubber, I've been told, the most important trick of the trade, was the ability to improvise the on the spot, tweaking the characters, or even the plot to make it slightly more relevant to the local audience. For instance, if the dubber was from the same town or region that the theater was in, he or she might speak in the local dialect, or even adapt characters in the film to represent local personalities.
The IndraTheater and its streetscape.
No story of a dubber at work has ever been more insightful than the one that the professor related to me last week before the start of his class.
The year was 1973 - a particularly volatile year in Thai history, best remembered for large scale student protests against a corrupt, dictatorial regime and the violent military crackdown which ended them. Into this context of heightened political tension, with the flames of "people's power" burning hot, Sidney Lumet's iconic police drama "Serpico," starring the wildly popular Al Paccino in the title roll, opened at the Indra Theater.
Thai version of the Serpico poster
Serpico, for those who aren't familiar, is the Hollywood account of real life New York cop Frank Serpico's political lynching at the hands of the New York City police department. In the film, as in real life, the upstanding bobby refused to take kickbacks from local criminal organizations, the going trend among many in the NYPD of the times. By shunning the practice and serving as a whistle blower against police corruption in general, Frank Serpico drew the wrath of the entire New York police bureaucracy. He almost got himself killed in the process.
According to the professor, Nakorn Sri Thammarat in the early 1970's had a similar problem with its own police force. Many officers had a acquired a base reputation for corruption, extortion and other forms of constabulary graft. Local grievances against the police were high on account of it. So when Serpico made its premiere at the Indra Theater, sympathetic crowds showed up in droves.
The ticket booth and lobby of the Indra Theater, now littered with debris.
Among Nakorn Sri Thammarat's more famous dubbers of the time was a man named Sirichai. According to the professor, Sirichai was a master at rousing a crowd. Whether the movie was foreign or Thai, for example, Sirichai always reserved his southern Thai accent for sidekicks and supporting characters, much to the amusement of the southern Thai audience.
But Sirichai's greatest talent was his deft ability to tweak a film's plot and characters to sync with contemporary Thai issues. He had a penchant, moreover, for using his role as dubber to address the day's top political scandals, both at the national and local level. And corrupt politicians were his number one target.
With Serpico, making political satire for Sirichai was like shooting fish in a barrel. It turned out to be his voice-over Magnum Opus.
Refuge from rain in the Indra's abandoned lobby
The crooked cops in the film were all given names corresponding to Nakorn Sri Thammarat's most notorious lawmen. The crowd, well aware of who was who among the city's police ne'er-do-wells, reacted with cheers and hysterical laughter at the associations the dubber made. The on-screen cops and the cops on the streets of Nakorn Sri Thammarat, if only for a few hours, became one and the same in eyes and ears of Indra Theater patrons. From the rank and file right up to the top brass, no corrupt member of the local police department was spared Sirichai's adaptive lampoonery. The crowd went wild, apparently, and because the film's initial dubbing session was recorded on tape for use in later screenings, multiple crowds were exposed to Sirichai's crusades.
The Indra auditorium. Ghostly voices of Sirichai's Serpico can almost be heard echoing throughout.
Not everybody got a kick out Sirichai's antics, however. As the professor explained, the dubber's satirical Serpico adaptation got him slapped with a libel lawsuit, which he ended up being found guilty of.
But as so often happens in these sorts of cases, the lawsuit martyred him, making him into a local hero and even more popular among movie-goers in Nakorn Sri Thammarat.
The sign for the Indra Theater, stashed away inside the ticket booth.
Sirichai's career as a movie dubber came to a close with the decline of Nakorn Sri Thammarat's stand-alone movie theaters, as it did for all of Thailand's once illustrious voice actors. But for this local personality, the experience he had gained from working a crowd of movie-goers was parlayed, ironically, into a career in politics.
Sadly, he died prematurely, before his political career had a chance to bloom.
Today, it's hard to imagine that the now-abandoned Indra Theater played host to this fascinating episode in Thai cultural history. Sirichai's Serpico.
Traveling to these theaters and digging up this history is very fulfilling, but it ain't cheap. You can to play a role in their continued documentation get a great little memento at the same time. Here's how:
For a small donation of $6, you'll be mailed these two original movie tickets from Nakorn Sri Thammarat, Thailand. The white and blue ticket was a VIP ticket to from the Wirote Rama Theater, which is still standing the heart of downtown. The yellow ticket was for open air movie screenings held throughout the province.
Supplies are limited, as no theaters in Thailand print such tickets any longer, so get yourself these unique movie theater keepsakes while supplies last. Just click the Paypal button below:
Ticket for the Wirote Rama Theater
Ticket for outdoor movie screenings in Nakorn Sri Thammarat
