[Fermeture Définitive]

We've entered an unwelcome new era today, so I think it's about time that I drew a line under this project -- although I might do a bit of basic maintenance here every now and then, but nothing more.  Sadly, I think that Noroît, which has now been in place for a full decade, has probably reached its unnatural conclusion.  Anyway, thanks to everyone who's visited this site over the years -- unless you're part of the 52%, in which case no thanks whatsoever is extended to you.  I hope some of the posts were mildly diverting, useful even, for those who share my longstanding interest in France's cinemas, both past and present.

Cordialement,

DA

[CLOSED] Le Coquelin

The Coquelin opened in 1959 and was situated in Boulogne's rue Victor Hugo, just along from the Kursaal.  During the following decades, Boulogne's cinemas would proceed to cut each other's throats, and the Coquelin was one of several theatres snidely purchased (and subsequently closed) by the owners of the Stars cinema in the early 1980s.  However, the opportunists who hoovered up Boulogne's silver screens would get theirs, after a fashion, when the Gaumont Coquelles opened just over a decade later; as a wise Jedi once said, there's always a bigger fish.  The legendary Johnny Hallyday, having previously played concerts in Boulogne in 1961 and 1963, performed at the Coquelin in 1966, and he enjoyed quite a love affair with the city, returning for further shows in 1977 and 1990.  

The Coquelin outlived the Kursaal by a few years, and at one point the cinema was owned by the Arcades chain that would go on to acquire Calais' Alhambra.  However, the Coquelin closed its doors for good in 1986 and, as with its near neighbour, demolition followed before the site was redeveloped into a residential block with a ground floor retail space (as seen in the above photo).  There's a rather nice legacy in that, following the cinema's closure, the Coquelin's projectors were sent down to Cannes, where they were used in the world-famous festival for many years.

[CLOSED] Le Kursaal

One of the first dedicated cinemas in Boulogne, the Kursaal opened in 1911 and was sited immediately next to the Crédit Lyonnais bank in rue Victor Hugo.  During the following decades, Boulogne's cinemas -- at one time, the city had five on the go at once, the others being the Coquelin, the Lumière, the Coliseum and the magnificently-named Vog -- would proceed to cut each other's throats, and the Kursaal was one of several cinemas snidely purchased (and subsequently closed) by the owners of the Stars cinema in the early 1980s.  However, these opportunists would get theirs, after a fashion, when the Gaumont Coquelles opened just over a decade later; as a wise Jedi once said, there's always a bigger fish.  

The legendary Johnny Hallyday played a show at the Kursaal in 1961, and he went on to enjoy quite a love affair with Boulogne, returning to the city for further shows in 1963, 1966, 1977 and 1990.  The Kursaal closed in 1982 and was knocked down in 1985, with its replacement taking the form of a mainly residential block which also contains a ground floor retail space (currently home to a Zara, as seen in the above photo).  While the cinema may be long gone, the bank next door is still in operation, and it's housed in a most impressive building.

[CLOSED] Cinéma Louis Daquin

The Daquin was housed in a building in what was (and still is) the National School of Music, on Calais' rue du 11 Novembre.  I'd been visiting Calais for years before discovering this side street, which isn't one you'd typically venture along during a day trip to the town.  The Daquin, which opened in 1981, basically showed art-house films, and such programming provided an alternative to the more commercial fare offered by the Alhambra (in its first guise, before it was renamed the Arcades), which is situated just around the corner.  The films at the Daquin played on a large screen in the Erik Satie room, and performances at the venue alternated between films and concerts.  

The opening of the 12-screen Gaumont in the mid-90s saw the Daquin slash its number of screenings, and the cinema closed down in the summer of 2000 (the Arcades' closure swiftly followed, for similar reasons).  Still, the Daquin was open for nearly two decades, which is quite impressive considering that it always had some pretty fierce competition.  The building's exterior has undergone some remodelling since the cinema closed, but it's still very recognisable as the venue that once provided some welcome alternative programming for Calaisiens.  The current Alhambra, with its inventive mix of art-house and mainstream cinema, effectively fulfils the roles of both the previous Alhambra/Arcades and the Daquin.

[CLOSED] Le Casino

The expansive Nausicaá aquarium (pictured above) now stands on the site which once hosted Boulogne's first postwar casino, which in turn housed a cinema for a few short years.  Prior to WW2, Boulogne was the home of one of the most beautiful casinos in France but it, like virtually everything in and around the port, was destroyed in the bombardment of the war.  Once the conflict ended, the mass rebuilding of Boulogne commenced and the replacement casino, which was situated not far from where its more ornate predecessor had once stood, was completed in the late 1950s.  

The new casino had been in operation for just a few years when it was used, fairly prominently, as one of the locations in Alain Resnais' Muriel, or The Time of Return, which was released in 1963; in the same year, Johnny Hallyday played a concert at the venue.  Nearly a decade on from Resnais' masterpiece, a cinema was established inside the casino, but the venture was short-lived; back then, there was plenty of competition in Boulogne -- much of it located in the more accessible town centre -- and this was reflected in the beachfront cinema's sparse attendances.  The casino itself operated for a good many years following the closure of the cinema, before the entire building was razed in the late 1980s so that work could begin on Europe's largest aquarium, which opened in 1991.

[CLOSED] Cinéma Crystal

I don't know how many times I walked past this fine building on Calais' Rue Royale before realising it used to be a cinema.  If you were to visit Calais as a foot passenger, you could walk to this building in around 15 minutes from when the passenger bus dumps you at the front of the ferry terminal.  Once you know of the Crystal's history, it's painfully obvious that this was once a movie palace; the exterior remains largely unchanged, with a "Casino" sign now in place of the one which once read "Cinema".  The Crystal was constructed in the 1950s, alongside countless other buildings which were put up as part of a massive rebuilding programme in the city following WW2; Calais was virtually razed to the ground during the war, although the magnificent 13th-century Tour du Guet -- a mere stone's throw from the Crystal -- somehow survived.

Sadly, Cinéma Crystal wasn't around for all that long, and by the 1970s the 600-seat establishment had closed down, with the building subsequently housing a casino which is still going strong -- meaning it's now been there for roughly twice as long as the cinema was.  It's a pity that the cinema's lifespan was relatively short, but I suppose by the 70s the market was changing -- as were tastes and fashions -- and the increasing popularity (and availability) of TV was also chipping away at the status of cinemas.  You're quite free to have a wander around inside, and it all feels quite grand.  While its current use may not be the one it was originally intended for, it's nonetheless heartening to think of how this building -- like so many in the city -- sprang from the rubble of 1945.

[CLOSED] L'Eden

There's something rotten in the city of Havre -- at least, there seems to be if you've followed the shenanigans surrounding the closure of two of its cinemas, both of which were shut down within a year or so of each other (you can read about Les Clubs' misfortunes here).  All of this occurred at the beginning of this decade, a period in which I was no stranger to Le Havre yet, to my regret, I never made it to a screening at L'Eden -- although I did visit the striking Volcan building which housed the cinema.  The Volcan is the home of France's very first maison de la culture, which opened in 1961 at what is now the excellent Museé Malraux, before moving on to the Volcan via the Théâtre de l'Hôtel Ville.

Museé Malraux

The maison's first site was where Jacques Rivette's legendary Out 1 enjoyed its first public screening, and it's only right that the museum now carries the name of the man who, in launching the maison de la culture initiative, helped make the French arts scene a lot less Paris-centric.  André Malraux was appointed France's first Minister of Cultural Affairs by Charles de Gaulle, and in 1962 both men survived assassination attempts.  The attempt on Malraux's life -- which nonetheless had dreadful consequences in that it resulted in the blinding of a four-year-old girl -- was carried out by the OAS, a right-wing organisation vehemently opposed to Algerian independence; in 1963, Malraux's future son-in-law Alain Resnais would make the staggering Muriel, a film heavily informed by the Algerian War.

The Volcan's temporary home: la Gare du Havre-Maritime

But I digress.  The Volcan opened in 1982, with the cinema operating right from the off until January 2010, when it "temporarily" closed for renovations which were set for the following year.  Promptly after this closure, the cinema was told that the keys needed to be returned for good; apparently the fermeture was actually definitive (although the building actually did undergo a makeover, during which the Volcan set up a temporary home at one of Havre's old train stations).  The reason given by the suits for the sudden winding up of L'Eden was -- wait for it -- that three security agents (!) would be required to watch over each screening.  Unless they were planning to screen nothing other than workprints from the likes of Scorsese and Tarantino, why on earth would such security measures be needed?  There's something very, very wrong about all of this -- the justification for L'Eden's closure seems not only completely implausible, but ill-thought-out; an Allociné interview with the cinema's ex-directrice Ginette Dislaire makes for a most interesting read.  Oh, I almost forgot to mention: a shiny new 12-screen Gaumont had opened in the city just a few months prior to the curtain coming down on L'Eden.

Website (for Le Volcan)

Cinéligue NPDC Théâtre St Martin

Film: Incredibles 2 (2018)

Screens: 1  Ticket Price: 4.80€

Three years after my first Cinéligue experience (in Fruges), the chance to go to another of their screenings finally came around again -- this time in Beaurainville, which, from where we were staying, is on the way to Montreuil-sur-Mer.  At least three consecutive issues of a local weekly newspaper listed the screening as taking place a day later than the date advertised on Cinéligue's website, which was something of a concern.  In the end I went with the website and, thankfully, that was the right choice.  Although I couldn't help but think that Cinéligue could well have lost out on some business due to this error, with many of the good people of Beaurainville potentially turning up a day late (and a euro short).

I'd never been to Beaurainville before, and while the drive there was pretty straightforward I must confess I doubt if I'd have found the venue without the aid of the previously-vilified GPS.  When I did find the right street, I was mighty relieved to see the Cinéligue van stationed in front of the building.  I parked up in a nearby side street and headed on in.

This venue is quite different to the one in Fruges in that it is an actual theatre, so the stage and the permanent seating etc. are all in place, and in all honesty it would pretty much pass for a dedicated cinema if you were unaware that this was a Cinéligue venture.  I'm pretty sure that the friendly guy who sold me my ticket (who also starts the projector and, presumably, drives the van) is the same one I encountered last time, and, amazingly, the ticket price was also the same as it was in Fruges in 2015.

An 8.30 start is a bit late for a film primarily aimed at kids, and Pixar don't exactly do snappy 80-minute films.  Add on the obligatory short film and a couple of trailers -- plus a delay for the man to get from the ticket counter to the projector -- and it was after 10.30 when we started spilling out into the dark; even I was wilting a bit by the end.  Cinéligue usually tend to screen kids' films as matinees, but I suppose it was the school holidays.  As you can see from the above picture, the building is quite striking, and it was a very nice place to catch up with a film I was otherwise struggling to fit in over the crammed summer schedule.  Three years on, my opinion of the whole Cinéligue operation hasn't changed: it's a fantastic initiative which you should try and support/experience if you ever find yourself within easy reach of one of their events.

Website

Le Regency

Films: Maya the Bee: The Honey Games (2018), Un flic (2019; original release: 1972)

Screens: 1  Ticket Price: 6.50€

We'd never been to Saint-Pol-sur-Ternoise until the day we visited the cinema there, and although it's probably the nearest permanent cinema to "our" village (meaning: the one we've holidayed in for the past four summers), it's still a good 40 minutes or so away by car.  Such a journey would have been a bit prohibitive had it been just for the sake of a single film but was fine when, as in our instance, a cinema trip could be part of a longer afternoon out which also included a walk around the funfair, a productive (if expensive) visit to an excellent newsagent, and a well-earned menthe à l'eau at a very pleasant café.  Saint-Pol is quite compact and it doesn't take long to get around the centre on foot; parking is also surprisingly straightforward -- there's a handy free car park (restricted on Mondays, when the market comes to town) by the town hall, which is just a stone's throw from the cinema.

The Regency itself has its small entrance located in the side of a much bigger building, but the film posters outside make it an easy place to spot.  This modest opening gives way to a welcoming foyer featuring some interesting pictures, which you can have a look at before approaching the ticket/popcorn counter.  The auditorium itself is very comfortable and quite grand, with the rather utilitarian exterior of the Regency providing no hint of the relatively palatial space that's housed within.

The lone member of staff on duty was very pleasant, and the ticket and snack prices were quite reasonable.  They could probably charge a bit more, seeing as they're not just the only show in town, but rather the only show for countless towns around.  That said, from reading the local paper and flicking through some magazines in the foyer, it is obvious that the Regency takes a great deal of pride in playing a big part in community life, with numerous schools screenings and other special events peppering their calendar.  The team here clearly work very hard at bringing a great range of films to Saint-Pol, and at the time of our visit a season of classic musicals -- all in VO -- was in progress.  The cinema has also been known to attract the odd megastar -- the aforementioned pictures on the foyer wall providing evidence of a recent visit from none other than Dany Boon, and in a couple of weeks or so the legendary Michel Ocelot will be there to introduce his latest (and no doubt wondrous) slice of animation.  

Website

[CLOSED] Le Familia (Hesdin)

Something a little different this time -- a building that I've been inside, although the cinema itself closed nearly thirty years ago.  This isn't the first time I've come across a closed-down cinema in France, but something about this one grabbed me; with the increasing difficulty of visiting new French cinemas, I've decided that from now on I'll also include an entry for any defunct ones I come across (providing I can grab a photograph).

I chanced upon this cinema during a walking tour around Hesdin, which was an app-based, self-guided affair which is well worth doing should you ever visit the town.  Le Familia (capacity: just short of 700) opened between the wars and screened its last film in 1988 -- word has it, it was so popular back in the day that some viewers went as far as reserving their seats for the entire year.  Late night skin flicks were a staple at the cinema during the 70s, too.  I guess this raging popularity diminished somewhere down the line, hence the late 80s closure -- and the timing seems about right for a cinema to finally succumb to the onslaught of video.

But, and as we all know, moviegoing eventually survived and VHS didn't, and you can't help but feel that Hesdin and its environs could really use a permanent cinema; it's a long drive from here to the nearest one, and although Cinéligue (see post from June 2015) do serve the area, you sense that someone's missing a trick by not running a picture house here.  Le Familia had a nice Art Deco exterior, which still survives to an extent -- the upper part of the building certainly hints at its movie palace past.  Nowadays a supermarket (once Shopi, now Carrefour) uses the ground floor, as you can see in the below snap I took.  You can find the building in Place Garbé, just along from the post office.

Gaumont Disney Village

Film: Dunkirk (2017)

Screens: 15  Ticket price: 12.40€

Visits to French cinemas I haven't been to before are very rare these days, so I was pleased to squeeze in a trip to the Gaumont in Disney Village during a recent stay at Disneyland Paris.  A visit to any Disney park is always exhausting -- every day is a long one, but on one of our jam-packed days at the parks (where the illuminated castle/firework show doesn't kick off until 11pm) it turned out that we were done just in time for me to head to a late screening at the Gaumont.  I remembered the cinema from a past life and a Disneyland holiday way back in 2003 (I recall that Taxi 3 was showing at the time), which obviously predates my French cinemagoing adventures, and I always thought it would be a venue worth investigating.

The cinema's programming is downright baffling -- Disneyland is full of international visitors, yet virtually everything on offer at the cinema is in French.  On the day I visited, there was a solitary token screening in VO, and, just as with the Gaumont in Coquelles, it appears that the on-hand (and not inconsiderable) non-Francophone market isn't really on the radar of this cinema.  It may well be that they've tried offering more screenings in VOSTF but have found there are few takers -- most people don't come to Disneyland to sit in a cinema, after all, so targeting the local market (who may not go much on subbed fare) is obviously the cinema's aim.  If you've ever been to Disneyland Paris you'll be acutely aware of how money leaks from you akin to water from a broken fire hydrant, but the Gaumont's prices (again, not aimed at the non-local) are actually just about bearable (only 1.20€ more than Coquelles, which is way out in the provinces); it would be quite reasonable to assume that, as this is (i) Paris and (ii) Disneyland, then going to the cinema here would involve remortgaging your home, but not so.

I went to the IMAX (oh, with laser) screen (another 4€, thank you) which seemed like the place to be if you were going to see anything here, and the superb sound and picture could not be faulted -- Nolan's Dunkirk proving far more immersive than when I'd seen it on a standard screen in its original language (interestingly, Dunkirk would retain its place in the IMAX here even as the most expensive French film of all time -- Luc Besson's Valerian -- opened).  The cinema makes for a pleasant and straightforward filmgoing experience, and I would certainly have no problem with returning here -- especially to the IMAX screen.  The staff I encountered were all friendly and helpful, the place is clean and tidy, and, all told, it's probably the cheapest two hours or so you'll have while visiting Disneyland.

Website

Cinéligue NPDC Espace culturel Francis Sagot

Film: Un peu, beaucoup, aveuglément! (2015)

Screens: 1  Ticket Price: 4.80€

It's been five long years since I've had the pleasure of discovering a new cinema in France; granted, during that half-decade I'd managed to get along to French cinemas whenever the chance arose, but always to a venue I'd been to before.  The blog does get minor updates from time to time (usually whenever I've seen a film in France), but such edits aren't reflected in the dates -- which are noted according to when the post was first published -- so please don't think this is the first thing I've done on here since 2011.

Anyway, with such ramblings out of the way, to the cinema in question: well, it's not actually a cinema per se, but rather a multi-use venue that sometimes plays host to a form of pop-up cinema.  Such events are run by Cinéligue, an organisation that tours around the region and effectively plugs the gaps for places that don't have cinemas.  This concept is pretty great, especially when you consider the abundance of cinemas that there are in France to begin with, and it serves to remind us of just how valued the seventh art is in that country.

My experience of Cinéligue is a shining example of just how useful this setup is.  We were on a family holiday, and a full week away often provides a decent chance of clocking up another French cinema experience.  However, the village we were staying in was a good distance from the nearest cinema(s) -- fumbling with the map and our nigh on useless GPS, it looked like either one of two cinemas I'd notionally picked would involve something of a 90 minute round-trip, which was really out of the question.  However, while out walking in the village, a poster in the town hall window advertised Cinéligue's activities in Fruges, a town we'd passed through on the drive down from the ferry; better still, one of the two dates listed coincided with our holiday time (the other date was for a film I'd already seen, so that was all very fortunate).  

So, a couple of days later and after a very busy day at the excellent Dennlys parc, I headed out to Fruges, which took about 15 minutes by car.  With only the loosest sense of where the cinema was, I parked up in the town hall car park (you can usually rely on being able to do that in France, especially in the evening).  Luckily there was a sign pointing to the Espace culturel, and in about 10 minutes or so I'd walked to where I thought the place was; however, the road I'd walked along showed no signs of activity, and when I found the building it appeared to be closed -- black privacy glass gave no clue as to whether anyone was inside, and there were no cars or people around.  

Wandering around the back of the building, I spotted a Cinéligue van parked up, so decided to go back to the main entrance and try the door, which thankfully opened without the wail of an intruder alarm.  Just past the entrance lobby there was a desk where I bought my (superbly cheap) ticket, before taking my seat alongside half a dozen other people.  Gradually, the place got busier, and after a talk about coming attractions (in lieu of trailers, I guess), a short played before the main feature.  The film (Clovis Cornillac's directorial debut) was very enjoyable -- much more fun than I'd anticipated -- and, as is so often the case in France, the novel venue just added to the experience.

I thoroughly enjoyed my Cinéligue experience, and would be pleased to support the initiative again.  One suggestion for this venue, however -- maybe prop open the door at the start of the evening, and not just at closing time?

Website

[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.

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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...

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