In China’s Capital, a Portal to Hollywood’s Golden Age

A screening of a play from London’s Royal National Theater at Cinker, a luxury cinema in Beijing. Cinker’s three partners envisioned it as a place for movie lovers who want to revisit Hollywood classics, European art house films and vintage Chinese favorites. Credit Gilles Sabrié for The New York Times
A screening of a play from London’s Royal National Theater at Cinker, a luxury cinema in Beijing. Cinker’s three partners envisioned it as a place for movie lovers who want to revisit Hollywood classics, European art house films and vintage Chinese favorites. Credit Gilles Sabrié for The New York Times
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In China’s Capital, a Portal to Hollywood’s Golden Age

A screening of a play from London’s Royal National Theater at Cinker, a luxury cinema in Beijing. Cinker’s three partners envisioned it as a place for movie lovers who want to revisit Hollywood classics, European art house films and vintage Chinese favorites. Credit Gilles Sabrié for The New York Times
A screening of a play from London’s Royal National Theater at Cinker, a luxury cinema in Beijing. Cinker’s three partners envisioned it as a place for movie lovers who want to revisit Hollywood classics, European art house films and vintage Chinese favorites. Credit Gilles Sabrié for The New York Times

The tiny cinema offers 30 luxurious leather armchairs, perfect for lounging. There are side tables where patrons can place their Champagne or cocktail, and nibbles, even oysters and caviar. The screen is close and the ceiling low. The atmosphere is intimate and elegant.

The theater, Cinker, is not a typical Beijing movie house — cavernous, packed multiplexes that offer Hollywood franchise films with earsplitting battle scenes or car chases. China’s government importers and censors prefer those box office hits for the quota of 34 foreign movies allowed into the country each year.

Tucked away on the third floor of a building in an upscale area of the capital, Cinker was envisioned by its three partners as a place for movie lovers who want to revisit Hollywood classics, European art house films and vintage Chinese favorites.

Some recent showings: “The Godfather” and “Romance on Lushan Mountain,” along with early Woody Allen and Agnès Varda.

Amanda Zhang, a former criminal lawyer and a partner in the venture, is around most nights schmoozing with regular diners in the clubby restaurant and presiding over the 1930s-style brass-accented bar.

Ms. Zhang’s glamour — she may wear red silky shorts and a flowing top, or a black evening suit, or a form-fitting emerald green sheath, always with skyscraper heels — is meant to recall the splendor of Hollywood’s golden age.

Cinker emerged six months ago, an experiment in offering an alternative to Beijing’s standard commercial theaters and a couple of out-of-the-way screening rooms that show old films. The founders invented the name Cinker as shorthand for Cinema Maker.

“We don’t have an independent cinema in China,” said Yan Yixin, a founder. “We thought, ‘How can we make an independent cinema?’”

A place with an eclectic schedule (by Beijing standards) and a beckoning atmosphere offered a good start, he said. Shanghai has always been considered the movie home of China — the big production studios opened there after 1949, and most of them remain there. Opening a jewel box cinema in the political capital was considered a brave move, a challenge to the conventional nod to Shanghai as the center of style.

Cinker is a contemporary twist on a turn-of-the-20th-century movie hall, the Electric, in the London neighborhood of Notting Hill, where the audience sits on plush sofas, armchairs — even beds — and movies are shown on a stage dominated by a gilded ornate proscenium.

Mr. Yan recalls going to the Electric with his girlfriend. “It is a vintage cinema. You could lie down on a sofa, have a cocktail from the bar, watch a movie — an amazing experience.”

They chose a similar upscale district in Beijing called Sanlitun, which, like Notting Hill, was a down-at-heel bar quarter in the late 1980s and ’90s, with dozens of foreign embassy buildings along its edges.

Then, artists rented hole-in-the-wall spaces to be close to the diplomats who could afford to buy their paintings, and in the early 2000s, the director Quentin Tarantino lent a movie flavor when he hung out at a night spot called Vogue and worked on shooting his first martial arts movie, “Kill Bill,” during the day.

Beijing’s city planners had other ideas than allowing valuable central real estate to lie idle to low-paying renters. In the mid-2000s, the seediness gave way to China’s first Apple Store, then fashion boutiques and now, a decade later, a Mercedes Me showroom with the most expensive models spilling onto a plaza with giant video screens and a high-end cafe nearby.

By locating in Sanlitun, Mr. Yan and Ms. Zhang, and Lin Fan, an owner of one of Beijing’s fancy restaurants and a producer of Chinese movies, are appealing to habitués of the premier axis of the city’s all-enveloping consumer culture. They are also exploiting changes in moviegoing habits.

Box office revenue from Hollywood blockbusters dropped in China in the first six months of this year after many years of growth. For example, “Transformers: The Last Knight” fared less well than expected, while the Bollywood drama “Dangal” did much better. Audiences have become more sophisticated, and more fickle. And in China, as elsewhere, more moviegoers are watching videos provided by online streaming services.

As the moviegoing audience fragments, Cinker appeals not only to the steady niche audience for classics, but also to a wide spectrum of people who have fallen in love with foreign actors who have starred in popular TV series.

To their surprise, Ms. Zhang said, Britain’s National Theater Live series with actors like Benedict Cumberbatch, who appears in “Sherlock” — the British detective series that was a major television hit in China — have been among their biggest draws.

Cinker opened with a screening of Wes Anderson’s “The Grand Budapest Hotel,” a 2014 favorite of the three partners. The décor of Cinker’s bar and restaurant — brass wall lights, plush red curtains — harks back to the movie.

“A lot of our audience likes to watch movies that are not really box office hits,” Mr. Lin said. “‘Budapest Hotel’ only got a very short showing in China.” The Woody Allen movies and “The Godfather” never had commercial releases and were available only on DVD, he said.

The repertoire for Cinker is limited, though, by China’s all-powerful government Shanghai Media Group, the conglomerate that controls movie distribution, and must obey the censor’s strictures. Like all movies, “Titanic,” for example, was examined by the censors. Yet it emerged with flying colors. Communist Party members were instructed to see the film, one of the first foreign movies released here in 1997, for lessons on bravery, and how even a capitalist moviemaker could tell the story of a poor boy falling for a rich girl.

From a library of about 4,000 movies at the media group, about 20 percent are suitable for a Cinker screening, Mr. Yan said. The Hollywood favorites come mostly from that backlist, he said.

“The Godfather” sold out the fastest, helped along by a package deal of a movie ticket and an Italian dinner. Patrons were encouraged to turn up in dress that matched the characters, and some arrived in flowing gowns and tuxedos.

Expansion is underway. An outdoor rooftop cinema, decorated with lush green plants and comfortable wicker, debuted last week. Coming next: Cinker’s opening in Shanghai. And watch for the future Cinker film awards.

The New York Times



Kamala or Harris? How to Thread the Needle on Politics, Gender and Race

Democratic presidential nominee, US Vice President Kamala Harris speaks during a campaign rally at the Alliant Energy Center on October 30, 2024 in Madison, Wisconsin. Harris and her opponent, Republican presidential nominee former President Donald Trump, are currently in a dead heat in the swing state.   Scott Olson/Getty Images/AFP (Photo by SCOTT OLSON / GETTY IMAGES NORTH AMERICA / Getty Images via AFP)
Democratic presidential nominee, US Vice President Kamala Harris speaks during a campaign rally at the Alliant Energy Center on October 30, 2024 in Madison, Wisconsin. Harris and her opponent, Republican presidential nominee former President Donald Trump, are currently in a dead heat in the swing state. Scott Olson/Getty Images/AFP (Photo by SCOTT OLSON / GETTY IMAGES NORTH AMERICA / Getty Images via AFP)
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Kamala or Harris? How to Thread the Needle on Politics, Gender and Race

Democratic presidential nominee, US Vice President Kamala Harris speaks during a campaign rally at the Alliant Energy Center on October 30, 2024 in Madison, Wisconsin. Harris and her opponent, Republican presidential nominee former President Donald Trump, are currently in a dead heat in the swing state.   Scott Olson/Getty Images/AFP (Photo by SCOTT OLSON / GETTY IMAGES NORTH AMERICA / Getty Images via AFP)
Democratic presidential nominee, US Vice President Kamala Harris speaks during a campaign rally at the Alliant Energy Center on October 30, 2024 in Madison, Wisconsin. Harris and her opponent, Republican presidential nominee former President Donald Trump, are currently in a dead heat in the swing state. Scott Olson/Getty Images/AFP (Photo by SCOTT OLSON / GETTY IMAGES NORTH AMERICA / Getty Images via AFP)

What's in a name? For Kamala Harris, it's a way to assert her own authority, implicitly celebrate her identity -- and blunt attacks by her White House rival, Donald Trump.
The former Republican president persists in calling Harris by her first name at his rallies -- a contrast to how he referred to the former Democratic presidential candidate, Joe Biden, either as "Biden" or sometimes "Sleepy Joe."
The 78-year-old billionaire also makes a point of mispronouncing "Kamala," telling a rally at the end of July that there were "numerous ways of saying her name."
"I said, don't worry about it. It doesn't matter what I say. I couldn't care less if I mispronounce it," he continued.
On the surface, it's just another attack by a politician famous for his belittling nicknames.
But when it comes to a woman and a person of color, Trump's insistence on referring to Harris by her first name -- and mangling it -- takes on a more insidious tone.
"Calling women leaders by their first name is often done to undercut their authority," explains Karrin Vasby Anderson, a professor of communications at Colorado State University.
As for the pronunciation, some believe Trump is attempting to "other" Harris -- and remind his supporters that her father was from Jamaica and her mother emigrated from India.
That impression becomes more pointed when created by a presidential candidate who often deploys racist and violent rhetoric against migrants, especially during an election with a growing gender divide, said AFP.
"It's noteworthy that Trump often mispronounces her name for humorous effect, tacitly implying that the notion of a Black woman with South Asian heritage running for president is worthy of ridicule," Anderson says.
"But it's also interesting that he not only mispronounces it, but he makes the claim that she doesn't know how to pronounce her own name. It's the ultimate mansplain."
'La-la-la-la-la'
Harris has turned Trump's attacks around, however -- making a point of both celebrating her first name and emphasizing how to pronounce it.
When Biden withdrew from the race in July, endorsing Harris, the campaign team's account on X swiftly changed from "Biden HQ" to "Kamala HQ."
At rallies, "Kamala" signs are waved side by side with "Harris Walz" posters, referring to her running mate Tim Walz.
In Washington on Tuesday evening, tens of thousands of people chanted the name as Harris delivered a major address with the White House lit up in the background -- creating a contrast between the solemnity of the moment and an almost affectionate note.
As for the pronunciation, the 60-year-old vice president's two great-nieces took to the stage at the Democratic National Convention in August to explain how it's done with the help of Emmy-winning actress Kerry Washington.
The trio divided the crowd up, with one side chanting "Kama" -- "like a comma in a sentence," and the other responding "la" -- "like la-la-la-la-la."
Some Harris campaign signs even read ",LA" -- a cheeky reference to the pronunciation.
Harris's first name has another version: "Momala" -- the nickname given to Harris by her stepchildren, Ella and Cole Emhoff.
'Madam President'
After Biden's dramatic decision to drop out of the race, Harris entered late and with a lack of notoriety. Making herself known by her first name is one strategy among others to bridge the gap.
It's a trick that has been used often by American politicians to create their public persona.
Progressive US Senator Bernie Sanders is often referred to by his first name, and Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg is widely known as "Mayor Pete" in reference to his former title in South Bend, Indiana.
Going by Kamala also allows Harris to sow hints of her unusual background -- and the potentially historic nature of her presidency.
"She does not need to explicitly remind people that she's a woman or that she's a Black and South Asian woman," says Kelly Dittmar, professor of political science at Rutgers University.
"She represents a kind of approach to identity in political campaigning that ... just doesn't need to be explicit."
As for the mansplaining, Harris's husband Doug Emhoff, who hopes to become the first ever First Gentleman, had a pithy comeback.
"Mr. Trump, I know you have so much trouble pronouncing her name," Emhoff said during a campaign event in August.
"Here's the good news. After the election, you can just call her Madam President."