Final curtain looms for ghost cinemas of Nablus

Final curtain looms for ghost cinemas of Nablus

#Culture

Nablus municipality plans to demolish one of the city's most popular mid-century cinemas that closed due to conflict

Nablus’ old Cinema Granada, once a 1,000-seat theatre, has not been used for nearly 30 year (MEE/Mary Pelletier)
Mary Pelletier's picture
Last update: 
Tuesday 5 April 2016 12:20 UTC

Walking up the steps of the old al-Assi cinema in the middle of the West Bank city of Nablus is a surreal experience; it is like walking onto a dusty, abandoned movie set.

The staircase leading up to the projection room is filled with traces of its past, almost to the point of caricature. Empty reels of all sizes rest against curved steps, and reams of film hang like translucent streamers over the balcony.



Unravelled film and old reels spill out of the storage areas next to the al-Assi projection room (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

But this is no movie set – instead, it is quite the opposite. Cinema al-Assi opened in 1952 and once played host to the most popular films of the 1950s, 60s and 70s, drawing crowds from all over the West Bank who queued for a spot in the 600-seat auditorium. It closed when the First Intifada began in 1987, then re-opened in 1998, but after being shelled in 2002 during the Second Intifada, shuttered for good.



The projection room at Nablus’ Cinema al-Assi. The building is set to be demolished by the Nablus Municipality sometime this year (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

Today, a guard sits outside the old ticket window, and behind him, what once functioned as the staging area for the screen has become an open garage – a small, indoor parking area for nearby shopkeepers.

He tells curious passers-by that they need to contact Nablus municipality with any of their questions, but lets slip that the municipality is planning to demolish the building.

The guard, Mouniir Akoub, 64, is a lifelong Nablus resident, and has seen his share of crowds at al-Assi. He began working at the cinema as a teenager, earning his way through the ranks. In a strange twist of fate, he is now employed by the municipality to keep people out of the old cinema he once worked so hard to keep running.



Mouniir Akoub, 65, began working at Cinema al-Assi when he was a teenager. He is now employed by the Municipality as a security guard for the empty building (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

“I’ve spent my whole life here,” Akoub said fondly, looking up at the cinema’s faded lettering. “I started as a junior employee, and worked my way up to become a manager. We used to show Indian, Arabic and Japanese films, all kinds of films.”



The second screening area at al-Assi became a wedding studio that continued to function after the main screening area closed. It will also be demolished this year (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

Two years ago, the Nablus municipality purchased Cinema al-Assi from the Assi family, going through a lengthy process of acquiring nearly 100 family members’ signatures to release the property.

A health inspection found asbestos in the ceiling and walls of the structure, rendering it a health risk. Analysing the cost and benefits, the municipality made plans to demolish the building to alleviate traffic on the main street that flanks the site, and create a parking and indoor/outdoor shopping area.



The exterior of Cinema Granada (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

“This is not a historic building,” Raja Taher, Nablus municipality’s director of public relations explained when asked about the impending demolition. “It was built in the 1950s. We work to preserve buildings in the old city that are 100, 200, 300 years old, but this is not a historic building. It will become an open space, a one-stop shop. It will open the street and it will become a shopping centre, with a car park and street vendors for the people of Nablus.”

A mid-century love affair with film

Al-Assi is one of three cinemas that older Nablus residents point out when asked about the city’s mid-century love affair with film; the other two being Cinema Granada and Cinema Rivoli. All three of these cinemas played an important role in Nablus’ cultural and social landscape, and their structures still remain, showing hints of their former selves. 



Cinema Rivoli was turned into a shopping centre after the Second Intifada (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

Cinema Rivoli was founded in 1952, and showed a variety of Egyptian, Indian and karate films, but was also closed when the First Intifada erupted in 1987. It re-opened a couple of times, but due to security concerns, permanently closed until 2000 when it was turned into a small shopping centre. The old ticket window is blocked by a green metal grate at the entrance to the mall, but aside from its lofty ceiling, little else inside the long hallway of shops gives away its former identity.

Cinema Granada, however, is another story. Privately owned by the al-Shakaa family, the cinema is now an unassuming shopfront, wedged between a sweet shop and a shoe store. Behind the padlocked metal doors, the cinema’s original fixings remain virtually unchanged with many of the 1,000 seats and large, maroon stage curtains still in place.



Since it closed in during the First Intifada, Cinema Granada has been used as a storage area for various sanitary products (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

But where moviegoers once took in foreign films, toilets and bathtubs now fill the aisles. Since it closed in 1987, after the start of the First Intifada, the cavernous cinema has been used as a storage facility for sanitary products. The inside of the building is anything but sanitary – seemingly hundreds of pigeons have made the rafters of Cinema Granada their home, and over the past 29 years have left their mark on every surface of the interior.



The entrance to Cinema Granada.The upper level seats, with a better view, were more expensive than the seats on the ground floor (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

Violence was the underlying factor in the closure of Nablus’ picture houses, but technological advancements during the 1980s and 90s also had an effect on the city’s cinema culture. The al-Shakaa family cites the growing popularity of the videocassette as another reason Granada closed its doors.



Light streams through the holes in the Cinema Granada ceiling (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

Patrons who once chose how much they wanted to pay to see a film in each of these cinemas - the more expensive seats were in the balconies, and the cheaper ones on the ground floor - could now watch films in the comfort of their living rooms.



Film and debris line the floor of a storage room at Cinema al-Assi (MEE/Mary Pelletier)

When the old building that once housed Cinema al-Assi is demolished later this year, Akoub will be out of a 46-year job of keeping an eye on the building.

“It has been a pleasure for me to spend my life here,” Akoub said. “I’ve spent every day here. I can’t even describe how I feel about the fact that it will be gone soon.”