The Thwin Cinema - Yangon, Myanmar

Glowing Thwin

Cinema Row - accented by the well-lit Thwin Cinema - looking fairly melancholy after dark.

After dark, the Thwin Cinema's humming florescence casts a reassuring glow down a blackened Cinema Row. Its neighbors to the east, notably shabbier, veiled by the night, take on a slightly sinister appearance; places that seem to offer cinema-plus. But thanks to its ample illumination, the Thwin has avoided an aesthetic of vagrancy. And its function matches its look, to boot.

Movie billboard on the Thwin Cinema's facade.

Under the portico by night

The Thwin owes its high standards to the company that runs it, the Mingalar Group - one of the country's biggest property developers and film production companies. Mingalar leases the Thwin from the government along with another 4 theaters in Yangon and two more in Madalay. For all practical purposes, Mingalar's theaters are the finest in the country, outfitted with the best projection and audio equipment, while attentively maintained in the looks and comforts department. Things are no different at the Thwin. It is easily the cleanest and most up-to-date of the Cinema Row sextet. Unfortunately, it only screens Myanmar-made comedies and romances, which are a bit difficult to watch.

The Thwin Cinema, with it's nearly identical next door neighbor the Su Htoo Pan

Looking right to left: the Thwin, the Su Htoo Pan, the Myoma and the Shwe Gon

Art-deco facade of the Thwin. Date of construction is unknown.

Ticket window and front entrance.

Mingalar Theaters movie guide, above the Thwin's ticket booth.

Travesty of travesties and nagging source of gloom for your Projectionist; bane of my entire trip to Myanmar, in fact, was Mingalar's no-photo policy regarding its theaters - exterior shots included. This obstacle dampened my spirits more than the monsooning skies did. Every time I'd approach a Mingalar-run theater with camera in hand, an admonishing guard would bolt from the lobby to shoo me away. I tried taking my case to theater management, but they wouldn't give me the time of day, only the line "we have no authority at this level." When that failed I went on a charm offensive to the Ministry of Information's Myanmar Motion Picture Enterprise (MMPE), the state agency which owns most of the country's theaters. The managing director there seemed sympathetic to my cause and asked me to send him a written project proposal which he would use to try to leverage my request. But in the end it amounted to nil. "Mingalar is a private company," he reminded me. "We have no authority to make them bend their rules for you. Sorry." Yeah, well I bet if I was the son of a general...

But the trip to the MMPE office wasn't a complete let down. At least I got a little amusement out of it all. While waiting in the managing directors office I spotted a white board hanging on the wall. Scrawled across it in black ink was written "send films to Pyongyang for North Korean Film Festival." Imagine that combination! Two powerhouses of political and artistic repression saddling up for a movie mixer. Which country do you think can make the best film about the benevolence of their respective supreme leader?

Anyway, what you see here of the Thwin Cinema was taken by stealth. Sorry if the selection is a little bit lackluster.

To Mingalar, please forgive me, but I do it in the name of promoting your venues and nothing else.

The Beyin (King) Cinema - Yangon, Myanmar

Moving eastwards along Bogyoke Aung San Road, the next gem in the Cinema Row sextet is the verdant Beyin Cinema, also known as the King. Local recollectors seemed to think that the King, despite its more contemporary looks, is actually older than the Waziya Cinema next door. With confirmation pending, I'll resort to conjecture and say this: it is the elder of the two, but at some point it got a makeover and now looks the younger.

Besides being green, the King Cinema stands out among the denizens of Cinema Row for being the only one that does not face on to Bogyoke Aung San Road. It's front entrance, as depicted in the above photo, faces east onto 35th Street. The point being, you know that you're turning a corner when you go to the King. *Ba-dum ching*

Beyin, in some funky 3D Burmese cut-out letters bolted to the top of the theater.

Facade

Vendors prepare their wares in front of the King Cinema's 35th Street entrance.

Welcome to the King


Billboards and checker boards.

Filmfair at the King seemed to be exclusively Indian. During most of my Yangon stay, the movie Billu Barber held top billing there. Bollywood, ever prolific in its annual output, supplies Myanmar movie theaters with a regular stream of silver screen entertainment, amounting to the second most widely exhibited national cinema in the country after domestic productions. Curiously, all imported movies - Bollywood, Hollywood or otherwise - are prohibited from being dubbed into Burmese or given Burmese subtitles. For Myanmar's movie-going public this can be a bit of a drag. Plot lines can be lost and dialogue painfully dull for those without an ear for the movie's language of origin. The three English language films I watched were notable for the casual chatter that broke out among spectators once the on-screen action turned to dialogue. It was like a license to speak, a clear indication that most viewers either didn't understand the English soundtrack, or weren't interested in trying to follow along. But the lack of translation is not without reason.

The authorities realize that if foreign imports were given the Burmese treatment then home grown productions would suffer at the box-office. Producers would see smaller returns on their investments and the local industry would wither in the face of more Burmese-friendly imports. Instead, the domestic fair is bolstered by a protectionist policy aimed at funneling movie-goers in its direction, while avoiding the need to increase production costs. This works against local movie fans, in a total sense. For one, they can't fully follow the imported stuff without foreign language ability. More critically, however, if local films were made with a mind to compete on an equal basis with the technically more proficient films of India or the US the likely result would be a raised bar across the field. Local producers would be forced to dole out more money, attracting a wider range of domestic talent, and presumably resulting in higher quality films. Theaters would be full based on the merits of the movie, not just because of the familiar language. But by all accounts, movie making in Myanmar is a murky process to begin with. Producers aim not for quality, but for quantity on as little investment as possible. In the end, the deprivation really shows!

DVD stalls line Bogyoke Aung San Road along the outside wall of the King Cinema, adding to the movie mania of Cinema Row. But looking past that, the billboard on the sidewalk serves a dual purpose: an advertisement for the current movie and a shield for the theater's diesel generator. All theaters in Myanmar have their own generators outside in case the local electricity supply gets shut off - a regular occurrence.

I would have liked to bring you a more dynamic series of shots of the Beyin/King Cinema. It's an interesting place. But management was not so thrilled to have a camera man poking around the premises. Interior shots were not allowed at all. Shooting the exterior was done sporadically and surreptitiously, as some vendors working the theater's perimeter were weary about having their goods committed to film.

Old theaters back in business in the US heartland. Why not Thailand?

Here's a little inspiration for all you movie theater enthusiasts out there: a New York Times article about the revival of main street movie theaters in the American mid-west. The following excerpt pretty much sums up my own views on the matter:

"To Tim Kennedy, a professor of landscape architecture who has traveled across the state [of North Dakota] to survey little theaters for a book, the communal will of rural towns that keep theaters going represents “buildings as social capital,” forged “outside the franchise cinemas and their ubiquitous presence at the malls....”

As anybody who's followed this blog knows, there are hundreds of old movie theaters across Thailand just sitting vacant, or being used in ways that pale in comparison to their original cinematic designs. Wouldn't it be nice to see some of them put back in commission?

The Waziya Cinema AKA The Excelsior - Yangon, Myanmar PART 2 of 2

Night view

By most accounts, the Waziya Cinema dates to the late 1920's. It began its life as a live theater, but was transformed into a cinema hall as the film medium grew in popularity. Myanmar, then the British colony of Burma, had one of the most prolific and well developed movie industries in Southeast Asia during the first half of the 20th century. Led by production companies like A1, New Burma and British Burma, the domestic filmfare rivaled British and American imports in popularity for years. The result of this cinephilic culture was dozens of highly crafted movie theaters throughout the country.

Entrance to stall (lower level) seating

Looking down over the lobby

Lobby cards

Until 1962, when all the country's cinema halls were nationalized under the auspices of the still-reigning military government, the Waziya went under the name of the Excelsior Cinema. Such name changing was common practice following the ascent of the military, with many entities formerly containing names of English origin going native. The aim was to foster a stronger national identity after a century of British rule.

On a side note, the government of Myanmar is now in the process of selling off its movie theater holdings to private investors. Any takers?

Stairs to balcony seating

The mirrored landing

Ticket girl for lodge (balcony) seating. The arched widows along the corridor are open air.

Upper front corridor, with arched doorways leading to a patio.

Spiral staircase leading to the projection room

Many older movie theaters in Burma have this feature: a patio on top of the portico. It makes for a good place to catch a smoke or spit some betel juice before or during a film.

The patio


Ionic capital on the second level exterior

Striking, isn't it? The Waziya is the only movie theater I've come across in Southeast Asia done in the Beaux arts style (if my architectural knowledge isn't off). And as an added bonus, both the interior and exterior retain the majority of its original character - fixtures and all. Even the auditorium was noteworthy, looking as if it hasn't changed much in the 80-plus years of the building's existence. Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to shoot it, but I can tell you this: it's pretty old school. The screen is set back behind a stage, betraying the building's former use as a live performance hall. The roof is supported by tall pillars rising up from the balcony sides. What a sight! It's easy to imagine silent films playing there in its early years.

So if you're in Yangon, check out the Waziya/Excelsior Cinema. Support a well run business and classic old building. It's at the corner of Bogyoke Aung San Road and 33rd Street. If you go during any day time show, you can buy your ticket from the lady below. She's friendly and will help you select the best seat in the house. Tickets, by the way, range from 40 to 70 cents a pop.

The Waziya Cinema AKA The Excelsior - Yangon, Myanmar PART I of 2

The prospects were too good to wait til morning. I threw my bags in my hotel room and ventured out into the darkened streets. Having hovered over maps during the weeks prior, I knew that my hotel was barely a betel nuts throw from Cinema Row - the mythical strip of cinemas across from Yangon's main train station. Walking east on Bogyoke, past the Traders Hotel, across Sule Pagoda Road, past the Sakura Tower, there it was, a string of pearls in the dark. But I forgot about the dark. Electricity supply in Yangon is intermittent and street lighting pale, at best. Cinema Row after sundown seemed more a haunt for vagrants than the movie theater paradise I was hoping for. Bodies moving in the shadows, under the fluorescent glow of generator-produced illumination, was a bit dream-like to a Yangon rookie. Cowed on arrival, I was. Stupefied, really. A daunting task lay ahead. At least it seemed so at this first noir encounter. Maybe waiting til dawn was the better option.

Dawn arrived. Leaving sleep behind, I retraced my steps from the night before. Moving west to east along Bogyoke Aung San Raod, the Waziya Cinema looms as the golden gate to Cinema Row, standing at the corner of 33rd Street. In the day-light hours all was well. An exquisite introduction to Myanmar's cinema halls was this Beaux-Arts masterpiece. Smitten, awestruck, put under its spell, I drifted in for a closer look.

Ionic columns support a portico over the Waziya Cinema's front entrance. Below, the portico is alive with activity all hours of the day.

Longyi strut

"What's showing?"

20 minutes before showtime

Looking eastwards, through the portico

The area surrounding the Waziya Cinema is bustling all day long and into the night. Noodle stalls and sidewalk tea shops, tri-shaw drivers waiting languidly by the curb; Cinema Row anchors a street-level economy that pulsates with life. Throw into the mix one of Yangon's few modern sky-scrapers right next door, and the train station across the street and you've got a pedestrian super-highway against the backdrop of cinemas.

Vendors at night. Tobacco products and betel for sale.

Blocking the sun with a magazine. In the background a woman vends ice-water in front of the Waziya.

If you hang around the Waziya long enough, you're bound to come across the Cinema Kids. Their parents operate some of the vending stalls lining Cinema Row, from where they peddle cigarettes and cheroots, betel nut wraps, sodas, candies and other snacks. The street economy in full swing. The Cinema Kids, comprised of a half dozen young souls, ranging in age from infancy to about 12, spend most of their time milling around the theaters and between the vending stalls of their caretakers.

The Cinema Kids in one of their favorite spots, the front steps of the Waziya Cinema.

Kids will be kids

One of the Cinema Kids takes a seat at the base of some columns.

It was the street life of Yangon which most captivated me, Cinema Row included. Coming directly from Chiang Mai, where to be a pedestrian, in the literal sense of the word, is to flaunt bohemianism (or poverty), Yangon presented an entirely different scenario for those inclined to walk. No, it's not a pedestrian's paradise by any means. Far from it. Although the design and scale are in place, the pieces are sorely missing. It's more of a pedestrian's purgatory. On the one hand, downtown Yangon is perfectly arranged for ambulation. Broad sidewalks along the main thoroughfares, with enough space to accommodate numerous vendors and pedestrians at once, proliferate. On the other hand, years of neglect by certain governing bodies have left the streets and sidewalks something to be desired. Cracked, crumbling and full of gaping holes into the sewers just below. The word 'cesspool' fits the descriptive bill for the city.

But Yangon is no ordinary cesspool. It's a gilded cesspool, and one which I quickly learned to appreciate, goop and all. The Waziya Cinema, keep in mind, is just one among thousands of architectural gems that give the city an aesthetic edge unparalleled in this region of the planet. The potential is there for a world-class metropolis to rise from the muck some day. When that some day comes, however, Cinema Row and the street life it supports will likely get swept aside for things deemed more critical to the new economy. I hope that's not the case, but history is against me. Progress can be a clumsy s.o.b..

Next time I'll show you inside the Waziya.