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



Iraq Opens Arms to Lebanese Fleeing Israeli Attacks

Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)
Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)
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Iraq Opens Arms to Lebanese Fleeing Israeli Attacks

Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)
Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)

Israeli bombardment of Lebanon forced Mohammed Fawaz and his family to flee so often that they finally moved many kilometers (miles) away to find respite in central Iraq.

"Wherever we went, danger followed," the 62-year-old white-haired Lebanese man told AFP in the small town of Al-Qassem, sitting with his wife and daughter.

"That's when I thought of Iraq. It was the only way I could see to escape the danger after we saw death with our own eyes."

Opposite the small house where they now live, beyond a road busy with traffic, tall palm trees emblematic of Iraq's Babylon province stretch as far as the eye can see.

According to the United Nations refugee agency UNHCR, more than 19,200 Lebanese have arrived in Iraq since the escalation of hostilities in Lebanon.

The Baghdad government and Shiite religious authorities mobilized quickly to cope with the influx.

So did the Popular Mobilization Forces, an alliance of pro-Iran former paramilitary groups now integrated into Iraq's security forces.

Everyone turned out to welcome the refugees, helping them get to Iraq and also arranging accommodation.

The solidarity has highlighted the close ties between the Shiite communities of both countries.

Iraq had always welcomed Lebanese pilgrims visiting its famous Shiite shrines at Karbala and Najaf.

But now the Baghdad government, in which pro-Iran parties dominate, is also willing to signal it stands staunchly by Lebanon in the wake of daily Israeli attacks on Hezbollah strongholds there.

Fawaz is originally from south Lebanon, and moved to the southern suburbs of Beirut before later moving again to the outskirts of the capital.

- 'Invited guests' -

"We fled from place to place," the father of four said, bursting into tears when he spoke of relatives back in Lebanon.

"My displaced brothers now live in schools in different areas."

His journey to Iraq included a coach trip across Syria.

After a stopover in the Sayyida Zeinab area south of Damascus, home to a Shiite shrine protected by pro-Iran groups, their entry to Iraq was coordinated by the PMF.

Fawaz hailed what he called "the best welcome" and Iraqi generosity, especially from his host, one of many Al-Qassem residents who have opened their doors to Lebanese refugees.

He praised Iraq's government for "treating us like invited guests, not refugees".

The war in Lebanon has displaced at least 1.3 million people, according to the UN migration agency, and more than half a million have fled into neighboring Syria.

Those who opted to stay often find themselves in makeshift and under-equipped shelters set up in schools.

In other areas, their presence can sometimes provoke unease or mistrust.

Iraq has made things easier for the new arrivals by extending visas. Those with no passports are helped out with new travel documents, in coordination with the Lebanese embassy.

The UNHCR says that some 62 percent of the Lebanese arrivals are women and children, and that the children will be able to attend Iraqi schools.

Nearly half of the arrivals are being housed in Najaf and also Karbala.

The religious authorities have taken over hotels previously reserved for pilgrims.

- 'No alternative' -

Jalal Assi, who is in his forties, is now in Karbala.

"We had no alternative, and decided to come to Iraq," he told AFP, citing the "facilities offered to Lebanese".

"We hope the situation will get better and security will be restored so we can go home," he added.

Neemat Mussa, 44, originally from the south Lebanese village of Hariss, is now living in the Babylon provincial capital Hilla.

She and her husband, their two daughters and an aunt are staying in a house owned by an Iraqi police officer.

When she does the family shopping she is driven there accompanied by a local benefactor who also foots the bill.

"We chose Iraq because it's a safe place where we are not afraid," she said in a tired voice. It is her first time in the country, although her husband came previously on pilgrimage.

The warmth of Iraq's welcome cannot mask the bitterness of exile.

Mussa has lost her cousin and sister-in-law in the war, and she follows the news intently on her phone.

She weeps when she talks of their loss and of the country to which she longs to return.

"I'm in a comfortable home, and the Iraqis make sure we lack for nothing," she said, adding: "When I got sick, they took me to hospital."

"But I miss my house and my own country, my neighbors and my family. That's my real home."