[CLOSED] Cinéville Colombier

L'Opéra de Rennes

Film: L'Italien (2010)

Screens: 6  Ticket price: 8€

This pleasant enough six-screener is doing quite well in the face of the shiny new Gaumont that's situated, somewhat aggressively, just over the road (see post below for more info on that one).  Staff at the ticket and popcorn counters were pleasant and helpful, and watching the fairly ordinary Kad flick L'Italien was a painless experience.  We went on cheap day Tuesday (an offer not extended by their close neighbours/rivals) when it was only 4€ or so to get in.  Films are almost always in French only but the programming was quite interesting, mixing summer blockbusters with slightly less mainstream fare (the 3-hour cut of Olivier Assayas' Carlos was playing when we were there).

It's easy to see how this place - situated in a busy shopping centre - would have ruled the roost in its day, but with the Gaumont breathing down its neck you do wonder if its time might be up before too long -- I certainly hope not.  Rennes is a major city and can certainly handle both of these cinemas per se, but perhaps not right next door to each other, and the Gaumont monster might well chew 'em up.  A lick of paint would help the exterior no end, though -- apologies to the cinema if they've tended to this since summer 2010 (but I somehow doubt it).

Update: After 46 years of screenings, the cinema closed down at the end of September 2019.  But there is good news in that Cinéville have recently opened two six-screeners just to the south of Rennes -- one in Bruz, the other in Vern.  The link below will take you to the chain's main page, where you can find listings for the two new cinemas.

Website

Gaumont Rennes

Films: Shrek Forever After (2010), Tamara Drewe (2010)

Screens: 13  Ticket price: 11.80€

OK, time to get hypocritical -- retroactively or otherwise.  Despite roundly booing Gaumont's decision to set up shop right over the road from the Cineville (see above post) I did go there twice during my Rennes stay. And despite the rather pricey admission charge (which went even further north when you paid out for the 3D supplement and glasses for Shrek 4) there isn't an awful lot to complain about here.  It's a very slick cinema with friendly staff, comfortable seats and excellent presentation of films.  The movies we saw were both in their original English with French subs, and the 13 screens mean they can afford to sprinkle such relatively minority screenings among the expected indigenous and dubbed French-language stuff.  Combined with the nearby Cineville it means you have a mind-boggling 19 screens to choose from if you're in this part of the city, although inevitably some overlap in programming does occur.  But this place is not at all bad for an establishment run by The Man.   

Website

Ociné

Hôtel de ville de Saint-Omer

Film: Les aventures extraordinaires d'Adèle Blanc-Sec (2010)

Screens: 8  Ticket price: 9.20€

Saint-Omer is a great town to visit and this cinema -- just off the main square -- is a bustling place that makes for a fine evening out.  Many years ago I remember pressing my nose up against the attractive glass exterior while on a day-trip there -- although my interest in the cinema was soon forgotten as I struggled to stay conscious after an alfresco lunch consisting of a "Welsh" that contained enough melted cheese to fill the Stade de France.  Later on that day you'd have caught me cramming armfuls of salad into my mouth in the vain hope it would counter the brutality of the cheese.

Fast forward a few years and a short break in the town afforded us enough time to take in a film.  The rather belligerent ticket man and the indifferent popcorn woman weren't the best front of house staff I've ever encountered, but that was the worst of it.  I think it was the opening day for Luc Besson's latest, which proved to be piles of fun.  The auditorium it played in is, I'm guessing, the biggest of the 8 they have as it was pretty huge.  Pic and sound quality were both excellent, and the seats nice and comfortable.  All in this is an attractive and lively cinema that I would happily pop into again.  That's if I'm still successfully eluding the long-term effects of that Welsh. 

Website

UGC Ciné Cité Lille

Film: Le silence de Lorna (2008)

Screens: 14  Ticket price: 10.40€

A birthday trip to Lille -- a fine Flemish city -- met with rain and so the cinema seemed like a good place to park up for a couple of hours.  Any film by lugubrious Belgians the Dardenne bros. is a great leveller for any zip you might have in your zap, and Lorna proved to be no exception -- a grim tale involving the excellent Jérémie Renier as a hapless junkie involved in a sham marriage to land said Lorna an EU passport. 

The cinema itself is pretty much what you'd expect -- you might recall UGC's presence in the UK from the time when they occupied the cinemas that prior to then were owned by Virgin and have since become Cineworld, although the French UGCs are that little bit flasher.  I'd been to this city centre cinema at least a couple of times before to have a nice lunch at the café (ironically gone on the day I actually wanted to see a film there), and had even blagged my way into the cinema's toilets -- huzzah!  As you might expect given that it was a Dardenne bros. film, it was in a fairly small (yet perfunctory) auditorium for the rather large admission price.

The biggest drawback was that, despite the place being no more than 20% full (and I'm being quite generous here), it was nonetheless peopled by punters who wanted to sit right next to/behind/in front of us.  If you're reading this and recognise this trait in yourself, please stop this unsettling practice right now.  The Dardennes could make a film about it, with Jérémie Renier being ideal (if lazy) casting for an innocent who's regularly accosted to the strains of adverts for Société Générale.  While I enjoyed my visit there, I think my best memories of this place are of eating very nice toasties (no, not a croque-monsieur, which is what you're thinking -- I know what that is, thanks) in the café - and of a time when strangers didn't sidle up to me in the dark.

Website

[CLOSED] Les Clubs

Le Havre, September 2019. Image: Martin Falbisoner [license: CC BY-SA 4.0] 

Films: La fille de Monaco (2008), Antichrist (2009), Demain dès l'aube (2009)

Screens: 7  Ticket price: 7.50€

I really like Le Havre, a city that, despite being almost completely razed in the war, sprang back to life thanks in no small part to the genius that was concrete-loving architect Auguste Perret.  It also hosted the first screening of Jacques Rivette's legendary 773-minute Out 1 way back in 1971, and the equally important Disco was filmed in the city (some interesting pics/info on that here).
Situated on the leafy Avenue Foch, Les Clubs is a very pleasant cinema that, as is often the case in France, surprises you when you learn that the rather modest-looking building houses quite a few screens (7 in this instance).  In the 3 times I've been there, 2 of these have seen Les Clubs serve as an ideal place to relax/dry off before the ferry home.

The other visit was not especially relaxing as it was to see Lars Von Trier's Antichrist, a film I was keen to see (and quite keyed up for) but by the ending felt largely indifferent about.  I really didn't want to squirm through it with my wife in attendance, so she decided to pootle around the shops while I took in a load of old crap about "gynocide" and suchlike.  There were only about 4 other people in there, all on their own (surprise!) -- including the slowest latecomer ever, who took one step every 30 seconds (seriously) as he made his way towards a close-up of what he no doubt feverishly believed to be Charlotte Gainsbourg's bits (sorry mate, it was body double "Mandy Starship").  I mean, if you come in late do you have to go all the way to the front?  Sit at the back!  No, hang on, that's where I was sitting.  Another guy was already sitting in my row (I was there first, so I think I'm entitled to call it mine, no?) albeit some way along from me -- which still didn't stop me from glancing over to make sure he wasn't in possession of a strategically-placed Le Figaro.

But the film really was a load of nonsense, wasn't it?  I only winced once (at the rusty scissors scene), although on the upside the inspired use of that Handel music left it lodged in my head for days (or at least until I went to see Johnny Hallyday a few hours later -- now, why wasn't the superb Vengeance playing at Les Clubs that day? It was on general release at that time).  Although, I must be honest and say I did think about the film in the days that followed, and even picked up the BD when it fell to something resembling a respectable price, so perhaps one day I'll give it another whirl.  The overriding feeling I got from it was that it was made by a truly unhappy person (cf. Pasolini's Salo).

But we can't blame Von Trier's folly on Les Clubs, which is a fine cinema and in a great location -- close to the city centre and town hall, a Perret-designed marvel which possesses some very nice gardens where you can hang out and enjoy a pre/post-film sandwich (or possibly an Antichrist tie-in Happy Meal).

Update: Sadly, this cinema closed its doors for the last time in 2011; Havre's cinemagoers have been further impoverished by the closure of L'Eden, the cinema inside the impressive Volcan building.  In a no-way-related move, a shiny new 12-screen Gaumont has popped up in the newly-regenerated Vauban Docks.

Update: Vive Les Clubs!  Well, kind of... the Sirius, another of Havre's cinemas, closed down in spring 2012 so that the building could be torn down and a new one assembled; this new setup is due to open in autumn 2013.  In the interim, the Sirius are occupying Les Clubs' old building at 99 Avenue Foch, using 4 of the 7 screens (apparently the 4 they're using have had some additional seating installed, while the other 3 screens are on a level of the building that's been condemned by the city of Le Havre).  I was initially quite pleased to hear of this development, as it meant I may once again manage to see a film in that building.  Although -- and I may have got this wrong -- it seems that Les Clubs was quite badly treated by the city of Le Havre, who bought the building in 2006 with the remit being that it would serve as a commercial cinema in the town before the Gaumont opened, and would thereafter become an arthouse cinema. However, somewhere along the line some murky-sounding study was commissioned which concluded that it was best to demolish and rebuild the Sirius, presumably so that this could meet the city's arthouse needs and Les Clubs could basically rot to the point of being condemned (hang on a minute... didn't that kind of happen?  And remind me who it was who partially condemned it?)  All of which makes it bitterly ironic that the Sirius is now currently holed up in there -- dead man's shoes, or what?  It also seems that spurious claims for rent by the city made the winding up of the cinema a necessity.  Hmmm.  Maybe I should opt for Le Studio next time I'm in town?

Update: I've just checked (late May 2016) and the Sirius still seems to be at 99 Avenue Foch, so the move seems a bit more than temporary...

Update: I've checked again (November 2019) and the Sirius no longer seems to be based at Avenue Foch, and is now in Rue du Guesclin.  The Avenue Foch building now appears to be boarded up and uninhabited.

Website

Website [for temporary(?) Sirius]

Henri Jeanson

A painter at the port of Honfleur

Film: L'invité (2007)

Screens: 1  Ticket price: 6€

Situated on the Seine estuary and just along from Le Havre (see above post), Honfleur is a gorgeous little town that you must drop into if you're ever in Normandy.  Close to those über-swanky twins Deauville and Trouville and nowadays linked to Le Havre courtesy of the striking Pont de Normandie, Honfleur has long been a painter's delight, with a quality of light pretty much unlike anything I've ever seen.

Although it has a harbour, since its port -- and that of nearby Harfleur -- silted up, all the heavy stuff now comes in and out of Le Havre, and it's now just little boats & yachts that now drift in and out of Honfleur.  Despite being fairly small, Honfleur is a busy place and is quite well off for amenities, and (as the existence of this post proves) has its own cinema -- presumably from the days before Le Havre was so accessible, as it's hard to imagine anyone bothering to set one up with Havre just over the bridge.

Cinema Henri Jeanson (named after the editor of satirical newspaper le Canard enchaîné/writer of Jean Gabin classic Pépé le Moko, who died just along the road) is a predictably small one-screener close to the town centre.  There's really nothing too remarkable about it - you buy your ticket from a small hatch on the right just inside of the main entrance (the lobby's so small that a queue of just a few people will see a tail hanging out onto the street), and if you haven't smuggled in some chocolate-covered marshmallow bears/Haribo/ferry-purchased Toblerone there are a few sweets (i.e. tubes of Mentos) for purchase at the ticket counter.  The auditorium itself is fine, and the light comedy with Daniel Auteuil and Valerie Lemercier (both always very watchable) was ideal Saturday night fodder and included a really great joke involving a fish.

The Henri Jeanson makes for a pretty cheap trip to the movies, and if I lived in Honfleur it would be handy for whenever I couldn't be bothered to drive over to Le Havre (which, come to think of it, would probably be fairly often) -- although those who want serious choice should really head over the bridge to the big smoke.  But they seem to be quite inventive with their programming, as any successful one-screen joint needs to be.  

Website

Cinéma Alhambra

Films: La fille coupée en deux (2007), Camille Claudel 1915 (2013), Aimer, boire et chanter (2014), Ma Loute (2016), Ivan Tsarévitch et la Princesse Changeante (2016), Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019), Jeanne (2019)

Screens: 4  Ticket price: 7.50€

In the days when we first started going to France on a regular basis (the late 90s), I remember walking past this place when it was a functioning cinema, but not too long into our French sojourns it closed its doors.  I expect this had something to do with The Man (AKA Gaumont -- see post below) muscling into town and setting up shop in Cité Europe -- it figured that as that mall drew shoppers away, Magneto-style, from Calais town centre, then cinemagoers would go the same way.

Thankfully, a few years on and the cinema re-opened as the Alhambra (not sure what its name was before), a lovely 4-screen establishment that crams in a pile of good films thanks to some obviously quite talented programmers.  I seem to recall that the earlier, pre-Gaumont version of this cinema was a more commercial venture, and though I wouldn't like to bet on it, I got the feeling it was pretty much French-language stuff only.  The Alhambra, unlike The Man along the road, shows all films in their original languages (the exception being kids' films, which are dubbed into French if they aren't in it to begin with).  Which makes it a great place to catch the latest Woody Allen film in the event that you can't wait years for it to open in the Anglophone world (and by which time he'll probably have another film out in France).

It's not too often that we've stayed over in Calais and therefore we tend to have trouble fitting in a screening there, but for my birthday in 2007 we (meaning my wife) decided to make a weekend of it and booked a nice hotel with a friendly dog (read that however you want -- was the dog resident in the hotel, or did he help us make the booking?  I know which is the more tantalising).  It meant we had time for a fine meal and could also catch an evening screening of the new Claude Chabrol (RIP), one of my favourite directors.  I thought the film was great, and my mood was helped no end by the superb experience that is the Alhambra -- friendly box-office staff, fellow audience members who clearly mean business, and an atmospheric, comfortable interior.  And if the excitement of this place gets too much and you get caught short, you don't have to traipse for miles to find the toilets and subsequently miss a big chunk of the film, as they're actually situated inside the auditorium.  Nice.  Although, if nature does call, everyone knows what you've been doing.  And they'll strike up a chant to that effect.  In French.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time at the Alhambra, and it's a pity that potential visits there rarely seem to work out timing-wise. It was great to see a Chabrol film on its initial release in a French cinema, and thankfully it was this one and not his next (sadly also his swansong), Bellamy -- which to me was the worst film he'd made in nigh on 20 years. 

Update:  In August 2012 the cinema decided to sell off all the film posters they'd had since, well, way back when.   This rather unique event merited a Calais excursion in itself, and a friend and I spent an afternoon combing through the endless, orderless piles in search of gems; hard work indeed, especially given that unfolding/re-folding most of these was a slightly tricky job as each tended to be the size of a football pitch.  As it turned out, gems weren't hard to come by and I even found one for the Chabrol I'd seen there, which made for a very nice touch.  I also managed to get a few posters for other films I'd seen in French cinemas -- how many can you spot in the gallery?

Update: In mid-2015 there was another poster sale; peruse the bounty here.

Update: May 2016 saw me visit the Alhambra and chalk up my 50th French cinema experience.  Of course, it's possible that I can't count and I'm still on fortysomething, but having gone through these posts multiple times I'm pretty sure I'm at the half-century mark.  Fittingly, this landmark figure was achieved via a great film (Bruno Dumont's Ma Loute) at a fine cinema.  I honestly can't see me getting another 50 in as it's taken 12 years to get to this point, so I may as well savour this moment...

Update: September 2019 -- more posters, y'all.

Update: October 2019 -- yet more posters.  I've now managed to get the cinema's poster for every film I've seen there.  But should the completist in me jeopardise this fragile status by seeing another film there, knowing that I'm not guaranteed to get hold of the poster?  Of course I should.

Website

Gaumont Coquelles (formerly Gaumont Cité Europe)

Films: Ensemble, c'est tout (2007), Camping 2 (2010), La princesse de Montpensier (2010), Largo Winch 2 (2011), Les Lyonnais (2011), Astérix et Obélix: Au service de Sa Majesté (2012), Populaire (2012), Gibraltar (2013), La belle et la bête (2014), En équilibre (2015), Finding Dory (2016), Brice 3 (2016), Demain tout commence (2016), Jour J (2017), Cherchez la femme (2017), The Jungle Bunch (2017), Dilili in Paris (2018), The Emperor of Paris (2018), La vérité si je mens! Les débuts (2019), Hors normes (2019), Le prince oublié (2020), 10 jours sans maman (2020)

Screens: 12  Ticket price: 10.90€

Yeah, OK, I've been to Gaumont cinemas, which I'm guessing leads you to think of me as being a bit like those people who spend their lives moaning about Tesco yet you almost never catch them buying milk from their corner shop (or if they do, they then complain that it costs more than in the supermarket).  And yep, I've lined The Man's pocket.  I really don't know what to tell you.
The Gaumont at Cité Europe is a huge aircraft hangar-type building that's right next to the restaurant end of the mall (in which there's a remote ticket machine -- which actually works, unlike those ones at Bluewater your mileage may vary) and a very short walk across the grass (but don't do this at the Eiffel Tower, kids) from a cluster of hotels (Ibis, Etap etc.).

With 3 times as many screens as the nearby Alhambra and films that are always in French (more on that later), it's the warehouse of choice for the yoof of Calais and its environs.  A huge foyer has several ticket desks, plenty of food/drink options, and a few handy queue-busting ticket machines, which not only save a bit of time (and it's usually pretty busy at peak hours -- when I went to see Largo Winch 2 I had to wait more than 15 minutes just for one of these machines) but are attractive to misanthropic types like myself who usually can't be bothered dealing with people.  Oh, and if that sounds like you, there's also a Coke machine on the other side of the ticket-tearer.  But really, your bag/pockets/hat/dog's neckerchief should be obscenely stuffed with all types of continental contraband from the nearby Carrefour hypermarket -- at these ticket prices, you've given Gaumont enough of your hard-earned.  Although, come to think of it, Carrefour are also The Man.

The auditoriums themselves are quite good.  Every time I've been there I've had a fairly enjoyable time, but on each occasion there's been a clearly audible burble of conversation rippling around the cinema, which really grinds my gears; for Largo Winch 2 I wearily moved to the other side of the auditorium to elude a gaggle of noisy latecomers.  The first trip there featured some girls stage whispering throughout the film, and provided me with the sad realisation that France wasn't impervious to inconsiderate cinemagoing types.  The film on that occasion was Ensemble, c'est tout -- a serviceable but curiously low-key affair with good-looking Audrey Tautou entering into predictably complicated romantic shenanigans with good-looking Guillaume Canet.  It's billed as being a Claude Berri (RIP) film, although while watching it I really wasn't sure as to how much of it he'd actually directed.  Sure enough, scrutiny of the credits revealed that François Dupeyron (The Officer's Ward) was given a shifty-sounding "technical advisor" credit, and it indeed turned out that Dupeyron had taken over from the ailing Berri.  Finely-tuned auteur radar or what?  I think Berri's final film -- canine caper Trésor -- actually gave Dupeyron a proper co-director credit.

On another occasion, my wife and I made an unscheduled visit there.  This was on a Saturday day trip where we'd gone over for a bit of shopping, walk along the seafront, cone of coffee, cup of chips, etc.  However, on arriving in Calais we noticed there was no-one around, and no shops open (although the latter is not at all unusual for lunchtime there).  We soon twigged it was a public holiday, and if you've never experienced a public holiday in France then you haven't experienced one at all.  Everything is closed, and there's nary a soul on the streets.  It makes those early scenes in 28 Days Later look like New Year in Times Square.  We felt kind of silly, but at least a couple of friends from home we'd arranged to meet had made the same mistake.  So more like We Are Legend.  Cue a screeching of tyres as we all headed out of town in search of wine stores, clutch and exhaust fitters, shoe shops, builders' merchants... basically anywhere we could fumble with our Euros and be involved in transactions.

We decided to head for Cité Europe where we caught Camping 2 -- we hadn't seen the first one, but somehow it didn't look as if that was going to be too critical.  Plus, it re-teamed the star and director of the great Disco, so that was a good start.  The cinema was mobbed, and I realised that this must be where those who weren't enduring visits from relatives (and perhaps some who were supposed to be -- naughty, naughty) must be taking shelter.  The film was good, ridiculous fun with Franck Dubosc (there's one for Corrie fans -- Mum???) on fine clown prince form.  Afterwards we had a meal at the nearby 3 Brewers (despite the shops at Cité Europe being shut, most/all of the restaurants by the cinema were open), and from a day that could so easily have been a write-off we had managed to fashion a fun time.  Although we've often been to Cité Europe, it's usually on a busy day trip where either a film or a proper sit-down meal is hard to fit in, let alone both.

One thing I really don't get about this place is that, despite it being just a few metres from the channel tunnel and therefore the closest French cinema to the UK, they only ever show films in French.  In all the years I've known about this place I've only ever been aware of one film that screened in something other than French (a preview of Ray).  Haven't they noticed that the mall next door is teeming with British day-trippers?  They have 12 screens FFS -- why not ghettoise one of them into a place where English language films can play with French subs?  They could even organise post-screening pitched battles between the locals and Les Rosbifs. I'm guessing they know more about it than I do and have done their homework on this (and may even have tried it out -- the screenings, not the pitched battles -- and found it not to be worthwhile), but I'm sure that as you're reading this there's many a poor soul reluctantly schlepping round Cité Europe with their other half, consequently annoying said other half, while the schlepper would much prefer to be parked up in the cinema for a couple of hours thus leaving the shopper to carry on unencumbered.  It really does seem like a missed opportunity.  If The Man is reading this (through Google Translate or whatever), have a good long think about this.  I know you like money.  Hell, I'll even help program it for you -- for the right fee, of course.  I know you're good for it.

Update:  As of 3/13, the cinema has now been given a major makeover; when I was last there it was in the midst of its redesign, with the large foyer representing a building site.  The local paper ran a page on the new-look cinema, with the manageress waxing lyrical and patrons mouthing off for and against the revamp.  I'll have to sit on the fence on this one until I can sample it for myself... 

Update:  And now I have, folks!  Not sure if they've done anything to the actual screens, but it was indeed a very comfortable seat which I took for Gibraltar (on its opening night, it was the only French film showing there).  A very solid thriller, but I doubt if stars Gilles Lellouche and Tahar Rahim would be too impressed with a mere six of us taking in the first main evening performance.  The foyer now seems to have switched over to the Vista ticketing system, but I had no real need to investigate as I'd booked online to get my smartphone ticket and, far more importantly, a saving of 3.70€ as part of some promotion.

Update:  So as to avoid rewriting/deleting all the nonsense towards the end of the initial post, let it be said that it's now not unheard of for films in their original language (w/ French subs) to pop up here -- usually such films get one show a day in VO, with the rest of the screenings hosting the expected dubbed version.  I first noticed this with Star Wars: The Force Awakens in late 2015.  While such screenings are still very much in the minority, it's nonetheless encouraging to see...

Website

Cinéma des cinéastes

Film: A Prairie Home Companion (2006)

Screens: 3  Ticket price: 9.50€

Now this is a cinema.  Founded by Claudes Lelouch, Miller and Berri with Jean-Jacques Beineix (the rogue whose Betty Blue was responsible for introducing that law where a quad for the film had to adorn every 80s/90s student hovel), this 3-screener, situated in Clichy and just across from the Pathé Wepler, really means it.  Don't come here unless you want to watch the film, as chatterboxes and text/facebook/twitter addicts will not be suffered at all, let alone gladly.

With an ambitious programme that annually includes a generous helping of stuff hot from Cannes, as soon as you walk in here you can sense the purposeful -- yet not at all pretentious -- atmosphere.  The auditorium we were in was quite modern and minimalist in terms of its decor, which is how I understand the other two to be.  As you'd expect, the presentation of the film was superb, and Robert Altman's hugely enjoyable swansong, retitled as the less unwieldy (and rather poignant) The Last Show for French audiences, was well-received by the impeccably-behaved audience.

I really wish I'd visited the bistro (located upstairs - you have to enter from within the cinema, but a ticket isn't needed) as I've since read several rave reviews about it.  That said, on a cold December night the crêpe stand just over the road made for an ideal post-film stop to grab an ambulatory bite to eat.  That reminds me: if by any chance you bought a pile of stuff to make crêpes with (say, on holiday last summer in Brittany), isn't it about time you used it?  If that doesn't sound like you, please ignore.

Website

Le Grand Rex

Film: Arthur et les Minimoys (2006)

Screens: 7  Ticket price: 13.50€/11.50€

Boasting the biggest screen in Europe and some 2800 seats from which it can be viewed, Le Grand Rex isn't just a clever name -- and it's impossible not to be impressed by the scale and grandeur of this place.  The auditorium is decked out in flamboyant, Art Deco style, and it's tempting to spend much of your time looking anywhere but the screen -- which might well be advisable if, as was the case when we once walked past, something of the calibre of Stealth is playing.  As you'd expect, it's always a big, commercial film that plays on this screen, and it's almost always in French (originally or dubbed).

Arguably the best time to go is around Christmastime, where the big seasonal film is augmented by an incredible, elaborate, pre-film water fountain display entitled the Féerie des Eaux; apparently well over 1000 water jets are used for this show, which also involves lights/lasers and music.  They seem to thematically tie in this display with the film, so when we visited there were various characters from the first Arthur film (natch) pinging around on zip wires, dangling over balconies etc.  To be honest, between that and the incredible design of the building, I felt I'd just about got my money's worth even before Freddie Highmore started trying it on with Madonna -- surely that's just wrong?  Maybe that's why they got someone his own age (Selena Gomez) in for the two sequels?

In case you're reading this and thinking that I've made all this up and you never saw any such smut when you viewed the film, let it be known that the Weinsteins hacked around 10 minutes out of the movie for the US and UK markets -- most of which concerned this love story.  The original cut, which we saw at the Rex, is freely available on French DVD, complete with the original English audio track.  Hell, I may not necessarily agree with the concept of that boy from Two Brothers making amorous overtures towards the woman behind that filthy coffee table book, but I'll merrily defend your right to see such wrongheaded fare.  Although I probably wouldn't go so far as to provide a link to some backstreet trader that might supply it.

If you do plan on going at what might be a busy time (i.e. near Christmas, weekends or evenings) then you might want to book (online, in person or over the 'phone) as you can imagine how nuts this place can get when it's approaching anything like capacity.  We were down that way (nearest métro is Bonne Nouvelle, by the way) on a Saturday and had to wade through a swarm of Arthur-daft kids to book tickets for the Monday.  Best head to the box office that's a short way along the side street just to the left of the main entrance; they also have another half-dozen smaller, cheaper screens, but who wants to go to those?

If you've made the trip there, definitely do the behind-the-scenes tour, les Étoiles du Rex, which is thankfully self-guided and takes about 45 minutes.  At one point you go in a lift that takes you up (or is it down?) behind the screen where the main film is playing, and you can look right through at the unwitting audience who appear to be watching you.  Well, I suppose if they've been on the tour they won't be unwitting, as they'll know there's a lift behind the screen that's continually, silently going up and down as they're watching a dub of Transformers 2.  Bet this knowledge drives some of them mad.

Website

Majestic

Rue de la Mairie, Douai

Film: Quand j'étais chanteur (2006)

Screens: 10  Ticket price: 10€

In September 2006 we took a much-needed trip to Douai -- a place we'd never been to before, but it was a reasonably easy place to get to to catch living legend Johnny Hallyday on his superb Flashback tour (tickets purchased about 18 months ahead of the show), thus joining the masses who've seen this megastar perform (a staggering 1 in 3 French people have seen him in concert).  The day after the show we had a full day in which to explore Douai before heading back to the channel tunnel, and after doing the town centre and the excellent market in the morning we still had the afternoon at our disposal.

We headed over to the Majestic to catch the first screening of the day, and were met with the sight of a sizeable crowd milling around as they waited for the cinema to open.  In the meantime we still had enough time to get some lunch, so went to the Subway that's right next to (and might even be joined onto) the cinema.  Lucky we did, as they had a "menu ciné" (or similar) offer which, for little more than the cost of a cinema ticket on its own, gave you your typical Subway meal deal of sandwich/crisps/drink, plus a ticket for a screening at the Majestic.  A great deal, especially when it negates the need to visit the food kiosk in the cinema as you smuggle your oh-so-messy sandwich into the auditorium.  I'm kidding here -- we did actually eat our meal like well-adjusted members of society at one of Subway's tables.  Ideally, Subway sandwiches should be eaten while standing in your sink or wearing a poncho (or both?); as nice as they usually taste, stuff that you generally don't remember ordering tends to come oozing freely out of them.

The cinema itself was pretty nice -- the screening was fuss-free, although there was a potentially worrying moment when a rather noisy couple came in, only to realise they were in the wrong auditorium.  But the film was great -- a moving, subtle and classy tale that signed off in the most bittersweet of manners.  And what's not to like in a film that features Depardieu, de France and Amalric?  Almost inspired me to go out and buy a Mike Brant album -- or at least a poster (you might have to see the film to fully appreciate that one).

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Les Stars

Films: The Wind That Shakes the Barley (2006), Le renard et l'enfant (2007), Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis (2008), Disco (2008), Arthur et la vengeance de Maltazard (2009), Avatar (2009), Le concert (2009), De rouille et d'os (2012), Möbius (2013), Les beaux jours (2013)

Screens: 7  Ticket price: 8€

Although it's a French cinema I've visited the most often, the Stars definitely isn't my favourite.  Essentially, it's not a bad cinema which, for some unfathomable reason, names its auditoriums after signs of the zodiac (ah! it's the "stars" link, yes?) and always has a nice range of films showing (often including a film that's not in French, so points for that).  I've had some really great experiences there, but also some average ones and a solitary wretched, miserable visit.

Assuming you're the half-empty type, let's start with that: Arthur 2 had just been released (a full three years after the first entry), so we decided it would be a good film to catch before Christmas -- albeit in somewhere a bit less palatial than the Grand Rex.  So, we're about 20 mins or so into Luc Besson's latest eye-popping adventure when a fifty-something couple come in with what is presumably their grandkids.  The kids are alright (or all right -- depending on whether you favour the Who song or the Julianne Moore film) but, in an uncanny parallel with the Oscar-nominated movie, it's the adults who are messed up; they continue to talk loudly for the rest of the film and Granddad gets up every 10 minutes to nip out for a smoke, letting the fire door bang loudly.

So, the experience was completely killed as far as I was concerned, and any illusions I had about France being the last bastion of the serious (or at least civilised) cinemagoer were shattered.  I wouldn't have blamed any right-thinking person in the cinema if they'd gone home and downloaded a snide copy of the film from the interweb -- they'd bought their ticket, after all, helping the film's box office totals, and were thus entitled to view and enjoy the film.  It's pretty hard to sell a cinema "experience" like this (which are pretty commonplace in the UK) -- they actually serve as fantastic adverts for piracy.  For the record, like a good soldier I bought Arthur 2 on BD and enjoyed the 80% of it I'd previously missed, but the Stars debacle remains vividly in memory as one of those sour experiences where you're going to be royally screwed whatever you do -- put up with it (as I did) and the film's ruined; get into an argument over it and the film's still ruined; even if you go out to get a member of staff (who really won't want to deal with it), you'll miss some of the film -- which, paradoxically, you're unable to enjoy anyway.

And from the ridiculous to the sublime: Dany Boon's phenomenonally successful Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis (the most successful French film ever at the domestic box office) is one of our favourite films of recent years.  Like Chris Nolan's Inception, it's that rare beast: a blockbuster that genuinely deserves its success.  Watching it in the Stars has to go down as one of my favourite cinema experiences ever.  Although Boulogne isn't at the heart of Ch'ti country it is nonetheless in the Nord-Pas-de-Calais and close enough to the parts where people ceaselessly bark hein!  Stories about the film's runaway success were common in the local media, and I recall the region's paper La Voix du Nord running some pretty excitable articles about it.  Besides the film being a ton of fun, what made the screening so special was the simple act of seeing the film in the region in which it was set; there was a constant ripple of excitement/recognition in the auditorium -- nothing too intrusive, but you could see people smile and nudge their neighbour when they spotted that street where their brother-in-law used to work, or the roundabout where they lost their hubcap.  There was something very inclusive about it all -- it didn't matter that we weren't from there, all that seemed to matter was that we were there.  Good times.

There have been other notable trips to the Stars, such as watching a 9pm (and therefore very quiet) screening of Luc Jacquet's excellent Le renard et l'enfant -- for my money better than his much-lauded penguin film, although the foxy tale does contain some pretty upsetting scenes for adults -- and kids.  Plus, the original cut includes a closing scene that was lopped off of the Kate Winslet-narrated version that eventually opened in the Anglophone world, so the completist in me enjoyed that aspect.  The Le Havre-set Disco was also another fine film we caught there, although I would have dearly loved to have seen it in Havre to see if something similar to the Ch'ti effect was in place.  Disco was very unlucky in some ways, as although it was a sizeable hit its release date meant it was somewhat eclipsed by the Ch'ti film, although I'm guessing it did a nice sideline in picking up those who couldn't get in to see Dany Boon's comedy.

I was also present on the inaugural day of the cinema's 3D system, which appropriately enough was for James Cameron's word-of-mouth, minor arthouse success Avatar.  The proud manager (I think) even came out to chat to the bespectacled masses before the film began.  Not sure whatever happened to that film -- maybe someone could start a petition to get it released on DVD?

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Update: For quite some time the cinema has been under new ownership, having been bought by the Megarama chain.  Megarama are currently constructing a 14-screener in Boulogne, so I imagine the Stars will close once this new cinema is completed.  The new Megarama was due to open in time for Christmas 2019, but an Easter 2020 opening now looks much more likely.  So you should still have a few months (from 11/19) if you'd like to get along to the current cinema...

UGC Ciné Cité Créteil

Film: La science des rêves (2006)

Screens: 12  Ticket price: 11.40€

For a couple of successive summers we’d had a late August/early September (don't dignify it by clicking) holiday in Paris, taking advantage of reasonably good value train-plus-hotel combos offered by Eurostar.  Summer 2006 saw them offer nothing but ridiculously-priced packages -- well, perhaps they did, but not when we tried to book, which was about the same time as the previous two years.  "Ah'm no giein them it" was the most-heard phrase in our house as my wife pummelled the keyboard in search of a non-existent bargain (what's up with all these people who spell it "bargin," by the way? And why does our house turn into an Irvine Welsh novel whenever we try to book a holiday?)  But we did have, hiding in plain view, a ticket remaining from a value bundle we’d bought from the now-defunct Speedferries (click here for a Speedferries-related anachronism that yours truly submitted to the IMDb page for Julian Schnabel's The Diving Bell and the Butterfly), so decided to put together our own package.  Ha!

The plan was to drive down to Paris from Boulogne but stop off at a couple of places we’d often thought about but had never actually got round to: Amiens and Parc Astérix.  Neither of those places disappointed, and en route we managed to take in the very attractive Chantilly, too.  Now, you’re probably thinking that taking the car to Paris isn’t the greatest idea, and you’re right -- but we’d cunningly booked a hotel on the outskirts (Créteil), with the main criteria being that it had to have parking and was close to a métro station.  As it turned out, Créteil was the last stop on the line, but getting into the centre of town was actually pretty painless.  Once it was holed up in the hotel’s free car park, the Hyundai didn’t move until it was time to head north again.  Although I think it did nip out to get a McDonald's at some point, as I noticed some evidence under the radiator on the day we checked out.  But I let it slide.

There was a large and impressive shopping centre close to the hotel, and next to (or joined onto) it was the UGC.  The efficient if none-too-sparkly ticket seller handed me the tickets plus a couple of miserable coins in exchange for my 20€ note (it may be the ’burbs, but they still charge Parisian prices) and we then proceeded to wait behind a cordon while our auditorium was "prepared."  The Michel Gondry film -- one of my favourite movies of the past ten years -- was nicely-presented to a well-behaved audience, and all told it made for a very satisfying evening out.

Now, this is quite interesting (though probably only to me), but they screened the film in its original version, although if memory serves me right this wasn't indicated anywhere in the foyer or listings.  In all the times I've looked at this cinema's listings since, I've never known them to screen a film in anything other than French.  Maybe this was a one-time-only error that met with a barrage of complaints (although our fellow audience members didn't seem at all disgruntled), and if so was a reasonably easy one to make: Gondry is a French director; the movie was French-filmed, set and funded; it had an original title that was in French; and it prominently featured French stars Charlotte Gainsbourg, Alain Chabat, Miou-Miou and Emma de Caunes.  So perhaps they assumed (via the duck test or otherwise) that the film could only be in the French language.  But -- and here's the rub -- the film starred Mexican heartthrob Gael García Bernal, whose character used the lingua franca that is English to communicate with those around him (an arrangement that no doubt continued off-screen as well).  I'd estimate that no less than 85% of the film is in English.

So yep, that's Créteil for you.  On the basis of that truly great film I said I'd always make a point of seeking out Michel Gondry's future work (even though I didn't especially care for his earlier Eternal Sunshine) but I'm now quite understandably reconsidering that policy on the basis of The Green Hornet.  Everything has its limits.

Update: Judging by the information in the issues of L'Officiel des spectacles that I've managed to get hold of this year (2019), it now seems that films in VO are not uncommon here...

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UGC Ciné Cité Rouen

Film: Match Point (2005)

Screens: 14  Ticket price: 9.40€

The road to Rouen.  And it very nearly was, as we narrowly escaped being caught up in the notorious French riots of 2005 that took place in many cities across the country, including the capital of Upper Normandy.  Rouen is a great city that's perhaps best known as the place where Milla Jovovich was burned at the stake way back in 1431.  It's replete with nice Norman houses, souvenirs featuring cows, and apple products (no, not iPods -- think again).

One evening we were indulging in one of our not-so-favourite holiday pastimes of procrastinating over where to have dinner and wandering the streets between our hotel and the city centre (in the end we predictably went to the Quick burger joint about 5 minutes away from the hotel).  During our walk we went along one particular street where groups of young men lined the pavement.  None of them bothered us in the slightest, but they all cast their eyes over us as we walked past.  Looking back it's now fairly clear that the area we were blithely drifting through was something of a war room for the mayhem that was to occur over the next few days.  Had we realised that at the time, I doubt if we'd have been doing much walking through that area -- we'd have needed parachutes fitted to our backs to slow us down once we'd cleared it.

It's kind of sad really, as Rouen was such a nice place and we had a really good time there, but I guess we should just consider ourselves lucky -- after all, it'd all have been a lot sadder had our car been torched.  Our hotel was run by a nice woman who owned a lovely Golden Labrador who we got to know a little bit, and this smiley character happily agreed to pose with us for some pictures in the car park (sorry, friend, we lied about there being all-you-can-eat dog biscuits out there).  Hope he and his mum stayed safe once the riots began.  Anyway, oblivious to the scenes that were soon to unfold, we spent some time in the Saint-Sever shopping centre, a decent place with some nice eateries as well as the expected shops -- my wife bought a couple of tops in a small La Redoute there, and the friendly assistant seemed genuinely amazed that a couple of étrangers were in the shop, let alone purchasing something while not wishing to sign up for the catalogue (which is something of an institution in France).  We do like to mess with people.

The shopping centre also played home to the UGC, and during our stay they had a preview of Woody Allen's Match Point (original language and subbed).  Allen, like Ken Loach and Mike Leigh, is revered in France and it's generally the place to go if you want an early look at his new film.  I remember the guy at the ticket counter asking if we wanted our parking validated and looking surprised when we told him we'd walked there (see, up to our usual tricks again there. Maybe he was the husband/brother of Ms. La Redoute?)  As our micro-conversation continued he said he thought we were local to Rouen -- not sure whether to believe him or not, I thought I may as well take my victories where I find them and took the compliment with a smile.  You, Sir, can sell me my ticket again, I thought (not for the same film, mind -- though it'd be easy enough to fork out twice when you've been puffed up like that.  I'm talking about a future screening that, more than five years on, still hasn't happened).

Anyway, the film was very enjoyable, the crowd appreciative and the cinema clean and comfortable.  The walk home in the dark passed without incident (insert joke about wife's temper here) and when we got back I ended up watching a midnight TV showing of Chabrol's The Cry of the Owl.  Good stuff.  Why didn't I buy it on DVD before it ended up rocketing in price?  I did buy the Paddy Considine/Julia Stiles version for £2, but I'm really not sure it'll be quite the same.

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Pathé Wepler

Nightfall in the Place de Clichy. Image: public domain

Films: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005), The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005)

Screens: 12  Ticket price: 13.20€

Everyone loves the Pathé chicken, don't they?  Much better than that star thing that Gaumont has as a logo.  These two big-hitters now come under the same umbrella (as the link to the website will testify), and I assumed there'd be far more Gaumonts than Pathés around.  So I was mildly surprised to learn that Gaumont only has a poultry lead over their feathered friends, with the scores currently running at 35-34.  And that's only because Gaumont broke the deadlock by opening a spanking new multiplex (aren't they all?) in the regenerated docks area of Le Havre.  I hope this slightest of edges won't lead to Pathé being squeezed out, Andrew Garfield style.  You could just imagine the fried chicken returning from a long, stressful trip, on which he'd been nominally trying to drum(stick) up some advertising revenue (probably from Société Générale) and having his carefully-selected airport gifts flame-grilled by his lady friend, only to find he's been ousted by the apathy of I-can't-believe-it's-not-Michael Cera.

If I'm right (and can operate Allocine correctly, else the above figures may also be way out) the Pathé Wepler is the only cinema that the company (meaning the cockerel half of the operation) have operating in Paris (meaning with a 75 postcode).  Gaumonts are everywhere in the capital, though -- 12 at the last count, if we take their arrangement on the Champs-Elysées to be two, which we will.  Although, if we take it to be just one, that means the overall score is tied at 34 apiece and the chicken can rest easy.  I'd still have a lawyer check it over, though.  But those numbers (if at all accurate) prove that Pathé, like Kad in that Dany Boon film, have, in the main, been assigned to the sticks -- what's the crass thinking here?  That everyone outside of Paris lives in a Bruno Dumont film where they keep livestock, and will therefore be bewitched by that (admittedly pretty damn rockin') rooster graphic? 

We visited the Wepler cinema on back-to-back days, or at least twice in three days.  The reason I know this is that they had their summer "3 days, 3 Euro" promotion on so it seemed rude not to exploit it, even if the films we saw were ones we could quite easily have caught at home (although we wouldn't have -- over the past few years, we've spent far more time as a couple going to see films on overseas holidays than we have in UK cinemas).  In cosmopolitan, not-remotely-bucolic Paris it's generally not too hard to find a film that's playing in English, and the Pathé Wepler normally has something on in this tongue.  The two films we saw (one of which starred a pre-Madge-bothering Freddie Highmore, the other that greeting-faced guy from The Office who was only ever tolerable in that show) provide good examples of how this cinema (and quite a few others in the city) tends to operate: French dubs abound for earlier screenings of the day, but from evening onwards films often revert to their original languages (with French subs, natch).

The cinema is absolutely fine -- I have no real strong feelings about it, to be honest -- and is an easy walk from Montmartre, so if you like you can pop in to the famous cemetery before or after the film and see François Truffaut's grave.  The ticket booths are on a fairly noisy corner, and once you've barked your requirements through the glass you will either be heading through the doors right next to where you've grabbed your ticket or will have to nip round the corner to another set of doors, depending on what screen you're headed for.  If your destination is the further away entrance the ticket seller will normally gesture in that direction (I've deduced this after a full 2 visits), or the worst case is that you'll try the wrong door and a member of staff will prod you towards the other entrance -- you'll make more friends than Mark Zuckerberg as you fight against the throng of people who actually know where they're going.

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[CLOSED] Le Familia (Berck)

Calvaire des marins, Berck

Films: Un long dimanche de fiançailles (2004), Les bronzés 3 (2006), Basic Instinct 2 (2006), Le deuxième souffle (2007), Les petits mouchoirs (2010), Arthur et la guerre des deux mondes (2010)

Screens: 1  Ticket price: 6.50€

Now, this might just be my favourite cinema.  And I don't mean only in France.  It's hard to think exactly which, out of the countless cinemas I've been to, would figure in my top three, but this place is the usually the first one to spring to mind when I'm mulling over such things, so I guess it's fairly safe to place this among my all-time faves.  What about other contenders?  I can think of another two in France (Studio 28, the Alhambra), the Cameo in Edinburgh, London's Curzon Soho and Cine Lumière, and the long-gone ABC in Kirkcaldy, a place I hold a great deal of affection for as I look back at the 1970s version of myself whose life was changed forever after seeing Star Wars there (six years on I returned to the same venue to twice witness the cycle come to an end with Jedi. Bliss).  I frequented that cinema for much of my misspent youth, taking in everything from Ghostbusters and Rambo to slightly less successful (yet probably more enjoyable) fare such as Krull and Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger.  I'm sure one of my last visits to the ABC was to see the excellent Star Trek: First Contact, though I think that terrible Bond film with Teri Hatcher may have been the final screening I caught there.

And of course, there's the similarly defunct Cinéma Tops in Laval -- a place where, for $20 (inc. tax -- no mean feat in Canada), you were able to grab 2 tickets for a film, 2 bottles of pop, a large bag of sweets (such as Peanut Smarties -- that was a new one to me), more popcorn than you could possibly eat, plus as much of that great Canadian powdery stuff you sprinkle on your popcorn (cinnamon? Ketchup? Dill pickle? The Tops might have had 'em all) as you might care to splutter on.  Forget those relatively weedy sachets they give you in some Canuck cinemas -- at the Tops they had these industrial steel canisters that you placed your popcorn under and operated a lever that presumably grated some of the mysterious, unseen block into angel dust.  It was easy to get sidetracked and forget you'd gone there for a film.  I'll miss that place.

But back to Le Familia.  While I really like cinemas such as the aforementioned Cameo and Curzon Soho, some places just strike a chord for reasons that it's hard to put your finger on.  For me, I think the atmosphere of a place is everything, which is why my top 3 (in no particular order) would have to be the Tops, the Kirkcaldy ABC and Le Familia.  No one of these places would count as the flashiest cinema the world has ever seen, but they all mean something to me that no end of 3D digital presentations and character-themed fun drinks toppers featuring Teardrop from Winter's Bone can dispel.

Berck, like its cinema, is somewhere I consider to be very special -- superb wide beaches, celebrity seals and a nice lighthouse are just three of the reasons why I like it so much.  There's also a great museum and some nice places to eat (the latter a bit of a given in France. And the former, really).  It is known for being the place where locked-in Elle editor Jean-Do Bauby miraculously wrote (via one eyelid) The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, the film of which (a stone cold masterpiece) was thankfully filmed in the town as opposed to some sound stage in a Paris 'burb.  The Empress Eugenie-inaugurated Maritime Hospital, where Bauby was resident, is an incredible building to behold -- eerie, atmospheric and melancholy.  See if you can wander around there without hearing the ghostly strains of La Mer in your head (no, not the Nine Inch Nails song).  I understand that it (or at least the ground it stands on) is sadly going to be developed into apartments.  Go take a look before it's too late -- if you walk round the back you can clearly see the balconies on which some of the movie's scenes were filmed.

Unfortunately, we never saw Diving Bell in Berck, but our first visit to the town coincided with the release of Audrey Tautou and J-P Jeunet's Amélie follow-up Un long dimanche de fiançailles.  I was very impressed with the film, although it was no Amélie -- and I'm sure that Jeunet deliberately went out to fashion something that wasn't in the same vein (although it looked the same -- all Jeunet films do -- and cast the same lead actress, so perhaps he wasn't trying too hard to ward off comparisons).  It's pretty long and demanding, but the crowd sat there rapt, and at any point throughout the screening you could have heard a pin drop (well, apart from during those magnificent trench scenes --at which point I've no doubt the phantom pin-dropper of Berck was merrily doing his thing).

We've always had a good time at Le Familia -- it's a friendly, welcoming place that we always go to when in Berck, pretty much regardless of what they're showing.  It's that kind of place.  Even complete tat like Basic Instinct 2 is perfectly palatable there.  It also made for the ideal venue to catch the final part of Besson's Arthur trilogy after the disastrous experience of seeing the second film in Boulogne.  The cinema is a one-screener with only a couple of hundred seats; the building looks a bit like an old church hall, and there's a car park to the side for your sand yacht.  We've never actually driven there, as the ten-minute walk from the hotel is always quite nice -- invariably in the dark, we've wandered through streets of cosy, shuttered houses and identified which of them we'd like for ourselves. Hypothetically. And through the proper channels, obviously -- not in some sinister, lawless, Manson family-style way.

They only seem to open up a few minutes before (or after) the programme's due to start, so it's quite common to see people who weren't clever enough to drive there (even after multiple visits -- the dorks) milling around in the cold.  The staff are always friendly, the tickets good value (they've gone up by a grand total of 50 cents in all the years we've been going there), and the audiences very civilised; I guess it's not the biggest town, so people feel accountable.  The only snacks available come from a machine (if it's still there), so you can fumble with your coins and extract something lip-smackingly good such as Haribo Strawberries or, better still, Trolli Sour Glowworms.

Update:  Le Familia closed its doors in early 2014; a new 3-screener -- Cinéma cinos -- has since opened in the town.

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[PARTLY CLOSED] Gaumont Champs-Elysées

Film: Clean (2004)

Screens: 6/7  Ticket price: 10.50/12€

A tip: if you ever arrange to meet someone at the Gaumont Champs-Elysées but you're not planning on seeing a film there, my advice is don't.  Pick another rendezvous point, such as the Disney Store or the Publicis Drugstore.  See, there are two cinemas there, both called Gaumont Champs-Elysées.  If this helps at all, the one referred to as the Marignan is on the same side as the Publicis Drugstore while the Ambassade is on the same side as the Disney Store, Fnac and Virgin Megastore (yes, they may be gone from the US and UK, but you can still get your fix in France).  But, despite having nominally different identifiers, they always seem to come under the single umbrella of Gaumont Champs-Elysées.

I suppose you could say that London's Leicester Square has two Odeon cinemas, but at least they have explicitly different names -- Odeon Leicester Square (which also houses the broom-cupboard miniplex Odeon Mezzanine -- a similar deal to Le Grand Rex, but not as good) and Odeon West End.  If you're dozy enough to say you'll meet someone by "that Odeon in Leicester Square" a bit of nomenclature confusion might await you, but at least they're much closer than these two Gaumonts that, to all intents and purposes, have the same frickin' name.  A much harsher mistress.  Between these two you'll find a very nice spread of films, with the tourist trap nature of the area meaning that films in English aren't hard to come by (although this same logic doesn't apply to the Gaumont out at Disneyland).

We visited the Ambassade on my birthday to see Olivier Assayas' Clean -- a film that starred ex-Mrs Assayas Maggie Cheung and contained a nice little appearance by Canuck combo Metric.  Assayas is an interesting director -- kind of like France's answer to Michael Winterbottom (stay with this, please) as he indulges in all manner of genre-hopping.  He's made some pretty great films (such as Clean, Carlos and Les destinées), interesting failures (Demonlover) and downright stinkers (Boarding Gate).  A lot like Winterbottom.  Plus, they have at least one actress in common (ex-Mrs Mathieu Amalric, AKA Jeanne Balibar) who worked on Clean immediately after Winterbottom's Code 46 (copy and paste into his "interesting failures" if you so fancy).

But yep, it's a very comfortable cinema and a nice place to escape the hustle and bustle of the Champs-Elysées for a couple of hours (especially when you've just overdone it on hot chocolate and cake).  It's a little bit pricey, but as it's a combination of (i) Gaumont and (ii) the Champs-Elysées, what could anyone reasonably expect?  Much better value than that Odeon in Leicester Square, anyway.  No, not the one by Chiquitos... the one, you know, by the grass square... along from The Hampshire... towards Panton Street.  But not Odeon Panton Street.  Oh, just forget it; see you at the Gaumont Champs-Elysées.

Update:  The above nomenclature confusion no longer applies as, after 57 years of service, the Ambassade side shut down at the end of July 2016.  Now's probably a good time to also mention that there's currently only one Odeon in London's Leicester Square (although Odeon West End is due to be revived in a couple of years, incorporated into a luxury hotel).  Oh, and Virgin Megastores no longer exist in France.

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Studio 28

Montmartre, dominated by the Sacré-Cœur

Films: 5x2 (2004), La moustache (2005)

Screens: 1  Ticket price: 9€

The first cinema I set foot in on French soil (unless we count non-film excursions to the UGC in Lille) still stands as one of the best.  Both times we've been there we've been staying just around the corner from the cinema on the steep Rue Tholozé, which is deep in the heart of Amélie country (indeed, part of that film was shot in the cinema's opulent interior), AKA Montmartre.

There's something very special about this one-screener.  Luis Buñuel's shockfest L'Age d'Or debuted here, as did his later Los Olvidados.  At one time Jean Cocteau was closely associated with the place and designed some of the interior features such as the light fittings, a peek at which is arguably worth the (by no means extortionate) ticket price alone -- or, you could just click on the link (that reminds me -- put your 'phone away, you ****).  There's a nice-looking bar (no food or drink allowed in the cinema, mind) and (hopefully still) a charming resident Wire Fox Terrier; we once swung by there when the cinema was shut as part of its annual closing, and as we stood outside figuring out our next move, the dog drove past and glanced at the cinema.  It's true -- he was in the left-hand seat, and I very much doubt the car was an import.

My inaugural experience of a film at a French cinema was a preview of Ozon's sweaty 5x2 -- a film that, at the time, I felt was less than the sum of its parts and actually more like 6/10 (I thank you).  But in the months that followed it really started to grow on me, for several reasons --  it does have an emotional resonance, it featured the great Michael Lonsdale, there's fine use of Sparring Partner on the soundtrack, and even that reedy sister of the first lady (who's also rent-a-deviant Louis Garrel's real-life Mrs Robinson) was pretty good in it.  Man, did she stink in that Chabrol film.  The cinema, which probably has only a couple of hundred seats, was packed and they even conducted a short pre-film quiz, which sounds really intense and geeky but was actually quite relaxed and fun.  Tuesday night previews are a staple there, and I would imagine that if I lived round those parts (as if...) I'd become one of the many who religiously turn out for them.  Films are always in their original language there -- it's a pretty hardcore place, but fun and friendly.

Since you weren't wondering, the "28" part in the name comes from the year the cinema opened, which apparently makes it the longest-running picture house in Paris.  The cinema was immortalised in a 1998 film starring Mike Myers.

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Although I've been a fan of French cinema for many years, it wasn't until 2004 that I managed to see a film at a French cinema.  Having been a regular visitor to France in the years leading up to that baptism, I figured (correctly or otherwise) that my French had by then reached a level where I could navigate a feature film.  Or, pruning the ambition back just a little, at the very least I felt reasonably confident I could successfully negotiate a ticket for the film of my choice -- as opposed to entering a potentially very unlucky dip that might well have seen me spending a couple of hours with a French-dubbed Kate Hudson (no such problems occurred on my first visit, as it was -- very handily -- a one-screen cinema.  With no Kate Hudson film showing).

Since then, I've managed to get to over 20 other French cinemas, seeing an average of around 3 films in each.  I always enjoy going to new cinemas, and have long toyed with the idea of making some sort of record of all the ones I've visited before they leak out of my head for good -- notes about what I'd seen, when and where I'd seen it, plus a bit of a ramble about what the experience was like, etc.  If by some astronomical chance you're like-minded, you may find it to be useful (improbable) and/or mildly interesting (slightly less improbable).

Looking back at all the cinemas I've been to in France, an obvious pattern emerged -- none were south of Paris (for some inexplicable reason, a lengthy stay in sunny Biarritz drew a blank on the cinemagoing front. Although, it didn't rain there that much, so perhaps it really isn't that inexplicable at all).  So I thought about an appropriate name for this little project -- "Cinemas of Northern France" was my not-remotely-prosaic working title (OK, actual title for a while as I put more time into thinking up meaningless, confusing tags/labels for my own amusement -- the sole survivor which appears below this post.  Don't bother looking.  The others are actually relatively useful, though).  In the end (for those who've been blocking out the large word at the top of this page) I settled for "Noroît" because I've always (i.e. since 2006) liked both the word and the eerie, little-seen film by Jacques Rivette.  It also appears to be my name, at least according to how all these posts are signed.  As Reverend Jim might say, what are the chances of that?  If you do somehow manage to get further than this introduction you'll find that not too many of the cinemas listed here are in the Northwest (sorry, Nor'west) of France, so it's a bit of a misnomer, really -- and one that may well make you slam your laptop shut in disgust now I've foolishly drawn it to your attention.  I understand the feeling that you've been had.

Having thought about how best to structure it, after a very long time it occurred to me that a blog-style layout might be the way to go, as it would allow for easy additions and amendments.  If you're not familiar with blogs, I'm really not at all sure as to why exactly you would want this to be your first experience of them, but navigating it is pretty simple, and easy access can be had from the archive menu on the right, which lists (and links to) all the cinemas.  The labels underneath a post can be clicked so you can group together all cinemas from that town or department (the two digit number at the start of the labels), and there are also a few other bits and pieces thrown in there, such as directors and actors' names, cinema chains, and so on (see? I really didn't lie about the usefulness of those labels).  Each film seen is linked to its IMDb page, and I think it's true to say that every film was caught on its initial theatrical release (and here's the exception that proves the rule).  A link to the cinema's website is given at the end of the post, or if the cinema is too apathetic to have its own site then a link to their page on the excellent Allocine is given; if (when) any of the links go dead due to my probable neglect of this project, Allocine is the place to go.  But if you do need to get in touch for any reason, please contact me via Holland Focus.

Current leaderboard:  1: Gaumont Coquelles (22) / 2: Les Stars (10) / 3: Cinéma Alhambra (7) / 4: Le Familia (6) / 5: Les Clubs (3)