An ode to the movie theatre

The movie theatre in Kenya is on its deathbed, plugged on a respirator and wheezing its last.

Recently, the tight-chinned pundits came on and glumly shook their heads before a forest of cameras and bemoaned that fate of movie theatres to lack of consistent patrons, increasing cost and piracy (they should have thrown in the lack of rains, as is the Kenyan way.)

I sent my movie guy, a squat shifty-eyed genius of a businessman who walks the dark bowels of piracy-land-an sms: See what you have done, driven the big movie suits out of town.

He replied in his usual cheek: I’m surprised this revolution is being televised.

He sells his movies for Sh50 a copy.

The picture quality is clear and the sound is crisp, which means you won’t hear a door banging in the background or someone asking over John Travolta’s voice, “Njugush, yule msupuu alirudisha ile charger ya Nokia?” like I once heard while watching a bad copy of the movie The Taking of Pelham 123.

And that, if you want to know the truth, was the funniest part of that movie - and the only part I remember.

My movie guy does a roaring business because he offers value and offers it consistently; he delivers to your doorstep, he offers discounts when you buy in bulk, he has an interactive website which he updates frequently and if he doesn’t hear from you, he calls you up and asks about your health, he also sends his customers smses when new movies hit his store.

But the clincher; he never forgets a customer’s name - even if it’s as complicated as Spirulina or Laudencia. Unfortunately, it is not this guy who has killed the movie theatre experience.

It has been overtaken by a more practical trend and to a large extent, economic sensibility.

But the theatres were good for something while they lived. In the 90’s when most of us were becoming men, the movies offered the perfect ground to break ice with that girl who had caught your eye because we had not quite fully embraced drinking alcohol as a social pastime, let alone a tool for dating.

So we all – at one point or the other - stood outside 20th Century or Kenya Cinema waiting for our dates, reciting the lines in our heads but, even more urgently, hoping we don’t say the wrong thing when she finally showed up.

And the women always showed up late, it was fashionable then as it is now.

Men waited for women back then, maybe because there were no mobile phones and you had to stand there and wait not sure if she would show up.

If she was a no-show an hour later, you would quickly dash to the phone booth two blocks away and call her landline, quickly disguise your voice if her mother answered and ask for the first name that popped into your head.

“Aii, huyo hayuko hapa, wrong number,” she would say and you would promptly hung up and rush back to your waiting post - hoping she hadn’t come and left while you were at the phone booth.

The only thing tougher than today’s holiday homework was dating in those days!

In the theatre, you shared popcorn and sometimes your hands bumped into each other in the carton as you both reached for some.

That contact alone would see you through the week in a dreamy daze. Some guys were luckier than most, some got her head on their shoulders and when that happened to you, you would not dare move your shoulder even when it was cramping and your blood circulation there was ceasing.

Hell, you would rather have had your arm amputated from getting numb because she leaned her head on it than say your shoulders were tired (think of the expression; “I would give an arm and a leg…”)

The very, very lucky guys got a kiss. And those are guys we worshipped back in the estates…even those who lied that they got kissed.

It is in these movie theatres that most of us learnt the delicate art of seduction, we learnt to read the body language of women who wanted to be held or the ones who wanted you to hold the popcorns.

Nevertheless, the movie experience represented a more wholesome courtship forum, a place where men and women would behave like humans, with the dignity that this exercise deserved.

It was a place where romantic relationships were nurtured and momentum set for further interactions. However, at some point, dating left the movie theatre and moved to the bar. Now the best icebreaker seems to be alcohol and “bend-over.”

Seduction has become lazy and drunken - even the sin tax that the Government constantly slaps on it never really adequately chastises it.

My movie guy might offer Hollywood on the cheap and some (like Njugush and his infamous Nokia charger) might even offer it for cheaper, but still there is an emptiness that marks the demise of this social institution. Going to the movies as a date represented dignified courtship, it said “Let’s spend time together and know each other.”

On the other hand, going for drinks as a form of a courtship seem to say, “Let’s cut to the chase,” or even worse, “Let’s hope the alcohol will drown my true personality…or better still, yours.”