Showing posts with label French Elvis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French Elvis. Show all posts

Monday, 14 December 2020

[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.

Saturday, 5 February 2011

[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]

Majestic

Douai rue de la mairie
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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