A day in the life of a projectionist

The life of the projectionist is one of silent toil. His work is carried out in stuffy quarters, beside noisy machines, usually alone, yet it's the basis of mass entertainment. He is like a conductor in that sense, a disc jockey, only without the notoriety that comes with being seen or heard. As an occupation, the projectionist is the faceless link in the movie industry supply chain. A critical link, no doubt, but one which is fast losing its prestige, if not its place in the industry.

Amnuay is a veteran projectionist. A true old hand. He got his start as the projectionist at the Sri Surin Theater in neighboring Surin province before moving to the Sisaket Rama in the provincial capital. Both theaters are now out of business. A decade has gone by since he got his third gig as projectionist at the Thai Rama here in Uthumphon Pisai. Notwithstanding a miracle, there won't be another chance to practice his craft should this gig expire. Fortunately, the Thai Rama sustains, if for no other reason than its owner enjoys running it. A bastion of family entertainment in small town Isan. The owner's rock bottom entrance fee of 20 baht is the lowest in the country, making the big screen accessible for even the most pecuniary. In the second decade of the 21st century, an active stand-alone theater in rural Thailand is a rare occurrence.  

Amnuay opens the lamphouse of his projector, revealing the xenon bulb. 

Amnuay mans a clunky, two-reel changeover projection system that could be in a museum. It's at least as old as the theater itself, which dates to 1977. In the working life of projection equipment, that's grandfatherly. Only with a lot of extra tweaking and coddling are these machines able to perform.

A cacophony of motors sets an industrial mood in the projection room. Antiquated projectors require hawkish attention. At times they caused the on-screen picture to shake, the result of a loose imaging lens. The audio system failed for a moment, too, leaving the audience of 20 or so in unintended silence. The amount of attention required just to ensure a steady picture, an even light source, is praiseworthy. This is no mindless task. Tedious, yes, but skilled no less. 

When one reel has nearly finished, Amnuay switches on the other projector. The so-called "changeover" system staying true to its name. The expired reel is then removed and taken to an adjacent room where it's rewound by hand.

Split view

Rewinding by hand

The rewinding bit seems to have a meditative quality. In the minute or two it takes Amnuay to complete a reel he seems lost in thought, watching as the film shrinks from one reel only to grow, correspondingly, into a tightly wound circle on the other. Occasionally he glances out the wall opening towards the distant screen, checking that the film is playing smoothly in his absence.

Above the wall opening hang portraits of the King and Queen. Most businesses in Thailand keep images of royalty prominently displayed. In this day and age, to not is to rouse suspicions. The portraits on display in the Thai Rama are inscribed with blessings of good luck and prosperity. They've presided over this room since the beginning.  

Amnuay pauses, staring blankly into existential nothingness as the movie plays on in the background.

While the projectors hum away, clamorous in their melody, Amnuay takes a moment to read the newspaper. Moments like these mark the completion of a reel cycle. Several minutes pass this way before he returns to the machine to adjust its components. It takes about 5 or 6 reels to complete a typical feature film.

A smoke break provides Amnuay a moment to take in the movie. 

Another solitary moment for Amnuay, his machines clanking away in the background. It was not too long ago, he recalled, when the theater was full on a regular basis. The Thai Rama had an original seating capacity of one-thousand. Now only 200 seats remain, the rest sold off as scrap. 

The projectors in this steamy little room are aged artifacts. When they go, so will the theater. Projectionists like Amnuay, operators of these aged artifacts, are like members of a fading guild. They are a breed of their own. To see the occupation at this particular point is to watch occupational Darwinism unfold before your very eyes. A sterile silence awaits this room where dreams have been projected twice a day since 1977.  

Amnuay shrugs and cracks a smile before loading another reel.

Film director from Cambodia's "Golden Age" passes

The stunted but reviving world of Cambodia cinema lost one of its legendary directors last weekend in Phnom Penh. Yvon Hem was a much lauded movie director in Cambodia during the country's most prolific period of cinema production - the late 1950's through the early 1970's. He is credited with helping develop the Cambodian film scene from virtually nothing to a thriving industry. Hem was 75 years old.

The Phnom Penh Post has the full story here.

The Thai Rama - Uthumphon Pisai, Sisaket, Thailand

Like countless little towns dotting the Thai countryside, Uthumphon Pisai comes across as a functioning time capsule. Core sections of such towns are much as they were when they developed in the mid-20th century, spurred towards growth by market-sized agricultural yields from Green Revolution technologies. 

Town fresh markets, still a staple of community life, are now concrete instead of wood framed, as are most commercial structures. Those wooden structures that do survive often have an endearing sag to them, like the dear old aunties and uncles who so often call them home. They belong to a visibly different era.

It's the town outskirts where the 21st century makes its presence known. Inter-province highways on town outskirts are lined with the same kinds of big-box retailers that led small town America to a needlessly early grave.The central business community is challenged by the hyper-markets on town's edge. 

Generally speaking, local movie theaters are in a similar, if not more dire position. Closed or altogether demolished, virtual unknowns to the new generation of would-be movie-goers. 

But in Uthumphon Pisai, the Thai Rama has managed to cling to life through simple economy: at 20 baht, it's the lowest priced movie ticket in all of Thailand.

The Thai Rama Theater

Like most stand-alone theatres in small Thai towns, the Thai Rama was built near the heart of the community, perfect for a largely pedestrian population.

When it opened in 1977, much of the countryside had yet to be linked to the electricity grid. The local cinema, then powered by diesel generator, topped the list of places to go for entertainment. That has all changed over the last two decades.

In Uthumphon Pisai, however, for less than the price of a bowl of noodles, you can still experience the joys of the silver screen the old-fashioned way. A family of five, living off a single minimum wage, can comfortably enjoy this luxury at such a price.

But it gets even better than that: In a display of her affection for the business, the Thai Rama's owner-operator - a middle-aged woman who inherited the theatre from her late parents - outdid her own rock-bottom price.

"Buy tickets for next week's movie today and pay only Bt10," she announced recently as a group of patrons filed through the door.

Her explanation as to why so low: "We're an old theatre, without air-conditioning, and in need of a paint job." Clearly this is a theatre owner for whom community spirit trumps profits.

Wooden doors and sign for 20 baht movie tickets, the cheapest in Thailand.

Pleasantly absent at this astonishingly low price are the droves of rambunctious teens that must be negotiated at the multiplex in the shopping mall. Thai Rama attendees are there for the sole purpose of watching a movie, not as an afterthought on a shopping spree.

Thirty minutes worth of onscreen advertisements prior to the show is likewise not an issue at the Thai Rama, in contrast to the big-name multiplexes. Instead, the erstwhile norm of a few previews and the cinematic homage to the King is all one sees.

High school students make memories in front of the old Thai Rama.

Verandah view

Monarchical marketing before the start of the film

Admittedly, for Bt20 - six times below the national average for a movie - there are some noticeable technical omissions. For one, there is no frigid air-conditioning as is common at the multiplexes. In fact, the Thai Rama has managed to cool its patrons for 35 years with nothing more than industrial-sized wall fans.

Nor will you find fancy seats with cup-holder armrests that can be raised to get closer to a date. The seats at the Thai Rama are metal framed, deep-pocketed and - though sufficiently comfortable -perform no function other than providing a place to sit, one person at a time.

Signage

But even if the rickety, two-reel projectors caused the picture to shake at times, and the antiquated sound system botched the audio during a few scenes, the overall movie-watching experience is pure joy. Maybe it is precisely this rustic imperfection, this down-home sense of community, that's so comforting in an age of superficial gloss and hyper-consumption.

Either way, at Bt20 a pop, it's hard to complain.

There goes Cinema Row

Dismaying but predictable news has reached me that a number of theaters along Yangon's colorful "Cinema Row" are in the process of being torn down. The strip of theaters along the south side of Bogyoke Aung San Road, between Sule Pagoda and Pansodan roads in the former capital, has served as the city's entertainment center for more than 5 decades. Hence the nickname. 

Several of the theaters date back to as early as the 1920's.

The six movie theaters of Cinema Row represent the densest agglomeration of operating stand-alone movie theaters in Southeast Asia, if not the entire Far East. Aside from their entertainment function, they support an informal street economy comprised of hundreds of vendors, hawkers and crafts people of various types who earn a living from selling to movie patrons and other passersby. That buoyant street life will also be pushed aside to make way for the homogenous glass tower hotels said to be replacing Cinema Row. 

Below is collection of photo depicting the architecture and social life of Cinema Row taken in June 2010 and January 2011. They are in no particular order. If you want to read more about the Waziya, King, Thwin, Hsoo Htoo Pan, Myoma and Shwe Gon cinemas - the cinemas of Cinema Row - just click on their names.

If anybody has further details of developments going on there, please send an e-mail to sea.theater@hotmail.com

Looking west along Cinema Row from the Pansodan Bridge. 

Cinema Row with the Thwin Cinema in the foreground

The King Cinema

The Waziya Cinema

The Hsoo Htoo Pan Ciname

The Thwin Cinema

Hsoo Htoo Pan by night

In and out of the Shwe Gon

The children of street vendors

Loafing at the Hsoo Htoo Pan

Thwin's ticket window

Taking shelter under the Waziya's portico

Posters at the King Cinema

Longyi Strut

Waziya usher

Facade of the King

 Poster display beside the King Cinema

General street life on Cinema Row

Under the portico of the Hsoo Htoo Pan

Shwe Gon passersby 

The Thwin by night

In the realm of politics, change could not come fast enough for Burma. Too much too fast economic growth, however, will inevitably leave the country a gutted shell of itself. The loss of Cinema Row, long a defining characteristic of Yangon, is testament to that.

As a means of preempting an architectural apocalypse, the Association of Myanmar Architects has recently published a book advocating for the preservation of 30 significant buildings across Yangon. To my knowledge none of the listed structures are movie theaters. Regrettably, in Southeast Asia movie theaters are seldom considered worthy of preservation, despite the architectural and social value they embody. Indeed, there will be plenty of hands applauding the demolition of Cinema Row because of the perception of it being "dirty" or "out of date."

But make no mistake about it: the loss of Cinema Row will forever alter the face of Yangon. And probably not for the better.

Exhibit at Jim Thompson Art Center

I'm proud to announce that 32 images from the S.E. Asia Movie Theater Project are currently on display at Bangkok's renowned Jim Thompson Art Center. The exhibition - entitled TRACES - is comprised of work by 10 artists from across Southeast Asia, under the theme of the communal sharing of culture within ASEAN (The Association of Southeast Asian Nations). By 2015, ASEAN will be ramping up efforts to make itself a more cohesive regional political entity.  A more detailed description from the curators at Jim Thompson explains:

This exhibition, TRACES,  aims to serve as a mechanism and platform for Thais and ASEAN members to learn about the history of SEA, ASEAN and neighboring countries through contemporary artworks and research in sociology. It focuses on issues related to the social memory and public sphere and also reinvestigates the history of the Vietnam–American war, as well as the national building processes of Singapore and Malaysia. It aims to help us to get to know each other and our history through contemporary art, to help us understand who we are and to see the communal sense of Southeast Asia, so we can continue our collaboration in the future. This exhibition intends to raise questions about Southeast Asia’s sensus communis. What do we have in common? What kind of communal senses have we shared since the last century or before? What kind of history and social memory do we still retain? What did we forget, remember, question? It will reinvestigate social space and public memory, history and how individuals have reacted to stagnant society as well as to social changes. Works range from photography, research-based projects, video documentary and mockumentary by 10 artists from Thailand, Singapore, Malaysia, Laos, Vietnam, Myanmar, Cambodia and the USA. 

If you're in the Bangkok area, this is not to be missed! For those who've never visited the beautiful Jim Thompson House, this is the perfect opportunity to do so.

It will be running from July 14th through October 31st.

Below are a sample of 9 images out of the 32 currently on display from the Southeast Asia Movie Theater Project archive.

Aung Mingala Cinema - Dawei, Burma

Lak Meuang Cinema - Kalasin, Thailand

Seno Rama - Seno, Savanakhet Province, Laos

Shae Saung Cinema - Yangon, Burma

Amarin Rama - Suwan Khalok, Sukothai Province, Thailand

Oscar's Prostitutes

Rama Ticket Taker

Security

The Lone Viewer

The Prince Cineplex - Kalasin, Thailand

Movie-going in Thailand is alive and well. Just take a look at the glut of costly Hollywood blockbusters that routinely edge out domestic productions for screen time. If the market were weak, it's doubtful that Hollywood would go through the effort. 

Hollywood dominance at the Thai box-office is ensured by arrangements with local chain exhibitors and their powerful distribution arms, keeping theaters stocked with American product. With the ability to stifle competition by outspending the little guy in every aspect, or supplying them with movies unsuitable for local tastes, the chain theaters have all but cornered the Thai movie-going market. 

Paramount to this movie-watching paradigm shift has been a drastic change in the form and architecture of movie theaters. Across the country, the mammoth single screen theaters built during the 20th century have gradually given way to the multiplex variety, a trend typical in most fully or newly industrialized countries. 

In town after town, locally owned stand-alone theaters have either closed, or clung to life by sheer determination. But in Thailand's northeast, at least, local movie exhibitors still hold their own.The Prince Cineplex in Kalasin is one among over a dozen Isan Theaters that has bucked the trend. 

A weekday afternoon spent exploring it gave some clues as to why.

Though looking a bit shabby from the outside, the Prince abounds with inner virtues that help it stay in the game. In the realm of comforts, it is in league with anything the highly capitalized multiplex chains are equipped with, short of the exclusive box seating popular among the pampered Bangkok elite.

When it was built in the early 1970's under the name of the Kalasin Rama, the Prince had a single, enormous screen and a seating capacity in the range of 1,000. In the late 1990's, the Khon Kaen-based Prince purchased the old Kalasin Rama and turned its giant auditorium into two smaller ones - a procedure which allowed them to diversify the film fair shown at any given time and attract a wider audience.

As the new and improved Prince Cineplex boomed, it siphoned ticket sales from other Kalasin theaters, including the older, smaller, but much prettier Lak Meuang Cinema. When questioned about why an elegant theater like the Lak Meuang had gone out of business, Prince manager Mr. Preecha responded glibly, "because of us."

Behind the current sign stands the original cut-out letters announcing the Kalasin Rama.

Management claimed that the theater was designed by the same architect who did Ban Phai's Pyramid Theater

Indeed, with no competitors in the market, the Prince Cineplex does brisk business. On a Friday afternoon, I found the Prince's open-air lobby flooded with teens and adolescents, most still in school uniform, waiting to see the latest hits.

Ticket taker's rare reprieve 

Anxious crowds clamor for tickets

Queued up

Theater No. 1

Giddy teen laughter rippled through the theater during the screening of the Thai romantic comedy "30+ Singles on Sale." Yet behind the sounds of youthful joy, the din of coming doom can be heard - ever so slightly - creeping through the paddy fields.

Ushering them into theater No. 2

A relic from a bygone era: the movie trailer truck, still in use at the Prince Cineplex. 

In the wake of Thailand's industry-crippling floods of 2011, rumors are circulating about a master plan to relocate Thailand's industrial belt to the Northeast. An integrated highway system and lots of open land makes the Northeast - in the minds of country planners - ideal for hosting the country's lucrative industrial complexes. And with fewer waterways than the central plains, flooding should be much less of a concern.

If these plans are enacted, Isan, as the Northeast is colloquially known, will become flooded with investments. Though good for the wallets of local strongmen and, perhaps, industrial laborers, mom and pop businesses will likely face economic hardship, as the national chains seek to capitalize on the region's new-found wealth. Isan's collection of independently owned theaters, then, will likely go the way of their ilk in all other parts of the country.

But for now the Prince Cineplex is alive and well, providing cinematic entertainment to the youth of Kalasin one screening after another.