By Vimal Kapoor
Much of my childhood remains a blur, fleeting remains of memories that occasionally stir to life, only to fade again. However, strangely enough, I can recall every single cinema hall where I watched a particular movie. For example, if someone mentions Zanjeer or Saudagar, my mind immediately drifts to the now non-existent Prabhat Cinema Hall, and when Bruce Lee’s legendary martial arts in ‘Enter the Dragon’ are mentioned, I can instantly picture Odeon Cinema (defunct too) opposite Gandhi Park. It’s not that I was a frequent moviegoer back then, but every experience is tucked somewhere in the recesses of my mind.
I can also vividly recall my only encounter with the big screen during schooldays. It was a screening of McKenna’s Gold at Fraser Hall, the main hall of St Thomas’ School. Though the reason for the screening escapes me, I still remember walking away enchanted, long after the credits rolled.
Perhaps this stroll down memory lane will help shed light on how cinemas in Dehradun have evolved. I distinctly remember the early seventies when the movie bug first bit me. As a star-struck youngster, I’d accompany my family to cinemas like Prabhat, Digvijay, and Orient. These were considered the best halls in town, each with its unique character. Prabhat was situated in a pit and fondly known as ‘Khadda’, while Orient had monstrous, silver alien figures embedded in its cement walls, which terrified me and made me avoid looking at them. The climb up the stairs of Digvijay was always an adventure.
In the eighties, new cinemas like Krishna Palace, Kanak, and Chhayadeep appeared, and the thrill of watching an Amitabh Bachchan or Dharmendra blockbuster was unmatched. The seventies and eighties coincided with the phenomenal stardom of megastars like Amitabh Bachchan and Sridevi. Growing up in that era, movie-watching was an experience in itself; the so-called ‘entry’ of Amitabh Bachchan in the commercial potboilers of Manmohan Desai and Prakash Mehra sent frenzied ripples through the theatre. Whistling, clapping, and coin-flinging during dramatic scenes and songs were common practices. Vendors sold cold drinks, chai, paan, and samosas inside the theater; they would suddenly emerge out of nowhere as the intermission flashed across the screen. These vendors were extremely deft, and the eatables ordered by a particular viewer were delivered with precision on that very seat even in the darkened hall after the movie had restarted; they would collect the money and vanish in the thin dark air. This ‘foodie’ experience was very different from the ‘popcorn culture’ prevalent at multiplexes now.
Outside, the ‘black marketeers’ traded tickets at a huge premium for the ‘first day, first show’. Inside the theatre, auditoriums spilled over capacity, viewers danced in the aisles, and audiences collectively underwent an emotional journey amidst the persistent hum of the projector. Occasionally, the lights would go off and there would be pandemonium all around with shouts of “generator chalao” emanating from all corners. There is nothing permanent except change, and the movie-going experience too has seen a huge shift though the nostalgia lingers on.
The experience was enhanced by small documentaries shown before the movie (sports highlights for few minutes were my favourite), while audiences settled into dimly lit aisles. When the censor board’s certificate flashed on the screen, the theater buzzed with excitement, and fans would whistle and clap as their favourite star made an ‘entry’. Films often ran for a hundred days, and silver and golden jubilees were the talk of social gatherings.
Then came the era of VCRs and DVDs, which changed everything. The once-thriving black market for pirated movies dwindled as more people preferred watching films on their TVs at home, often in the comfort of their air-conditioned bedrooms. I still remember feeling a sense of loss when Lakshmi Talkies on Gandhi Road shut down. That hall had been the site of one of the greatest films of all time, Sholay. Now, a bustling shopping complex occupies that space. Incidentally ‘Sholay’ was the first movie in town that ran in two cinema halls simultaneously. When the burgeoning crowds became too much to handle, ‘Natraj’ also started screening it.
Similarly, cinemas like Capri, Odeon and Filmistan met their demise due to the rise of video piracy, while theatres like Natraj, New Empire, and Orient have evolved with the times, investing in the latest technology. Some, like Digvijay, located in the heart of the town near the clock tower, have closed shop. Cinemas like Kanak and Krishna Palace have quietly logged out, opting for other ventures.
While many theatres have disappeared, the advent of four-screen multiplexes like Centrio, Silver City, Mall of Doon, and PVR has been warmly welcomed by movie enthusiasts.
The magic of watching a movie in a theatre remains unmatched. The collective experience of watching with others adds something special to the moment. The comments hurled by ‘Gandhi class’ audiences was an added bonus, some who had already seen the movie would announce the upcoming crucial scene like — “Gabbar is going to slash Thakur’s arms now!”, much to the chagrin of other people, but such instances are rare. For the most part, sharing the movie-watching experience amplifies the fun. Comedies become funnier when a hundred people laugh together, and tear-jerkers become more emotional when you’re a grown man, struggling to hold back tears during the climax of Sholay, hoping that the macho guy sitting next to you doesn’t see you moist eyed.
I feel you’re more likely to be moved by a film’s emotional depth if you watch it in a theatre. At home, you might get distracted—answering the phone or doing laundry. But in a theatre, you are forced to shut out all distractions and just immerse yourself in the experience. That’s what movies are all about—escaping from reality for a couple of hours. The flickering silver screen, along with the magic of filmmakers like Karan Johar and Sanjay Leela Bhansali, ensures that you do just that.
(Vimal kapoor, a Dehradun resident, is passionate about literature, creative writing, cricket and exploration through travel)
