[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)

[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

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.

Website