[Fermeture Définitive]

We've entered an unwelcome new era today, so I think it's about time that I drew a line under this project -- although I might do a bit of basic maintenance here every now and then, but nothing more.  Sadly, I think that Noroît, which has now been in place for a full decade, has probably reached its unnatural conclusion.  Anyway, thanks to everyone who's visited this site over the years -- unless you're part of the 52%, in which case no thanks whatsoever is extended to you.  I hope some of the posts were mildly diverting, useful even, for those who share my longstanding interest in France's cinemas, both past and present.

Cordialement,

DA

[CLOSED] Le Coquelin

The Coquelin opened in 1959 and was situated in Boulogne's rue Victor Hugo, just along from the Kursaal.  During the following decades, Boulogne's cinemas would proceed to cut each other's throats, and the Coquelin was one of several theatres snidely purchased (and subsequently closed) by the owners of the Stars cinema in the early 1980s.  However, the opportunists who hoovered up Boulogne's silver screens would get theirs, after a fashion, when the Gaumont Coquelles opened just over a decade later; as a wise Jedi once said, there's always a bigger fish.  The legendary Johnny Hallyday, having previously played concerts in Boulogne in 1961 and 1963, performed at the Coquelin in 1966, and he enjoyed quite a love affair with the city, returning for further shows in 1977 and 1990.  

The Coquelin outlived the Kursaal by a few years, and at one point the cinema was owned by the Arcades chain that would go on to acquire Calais' Alhambra.  However, the Coquelin closed its doors for good in 1986 and, as with its near neighbour, demolition followed before the site was redeveloped into a residential block with a ground floor retail space (as seen in the above photo).  There's a rather nice legacy in that, following the cinema's closure, the Coquelin's projectors were sent down to Cannes, where they were used in the world-famous festival for many years.

[CLOSED] Le Kursaal

One of the first dedicated cinemas in Boulogne, the Kursaal opened in 1911 and was sited immediately next to the Crédit Lyonnais bank in rue Victor Hugo.  During the following decades, Boulogne's cinemas -- at one time, the city had five on the go at once, the others being the Coquelin, the Lumière, the Coliseum and the magnificently-named Vog -- would proceed to cut each other's throats, and the Kursaal was one of several cinemas snidely purchased (and subsequently closed) by the owners of the Stars cinema in the early 1980s.  However, these opportunists would get theirs, after a fashion, when the Gaumont Coquelles opened just over a decade later; as a wise Jedi once said, there's always a bigger fish.  

The legendary Johnny Hallyday played a show at the Kursaal in 1961, and he went on to enjoy quite a love affair with Boulogne, returning to the city for further shows in 1963, 1966, 1977 and 1990.  The Kursaal closed in 1982 and was knocked down in 1985, with its replacement taking the form of a mainly residential block which also contains a ground floor retail space (currently home to a Zara, as seen in the above photo).  While the cinema may be long gone, the bank next door is still in operation, and it's housed in a most impressive building.

[CLOSED] Cinéma Louis Daquin

The Daquin was housed in a building in what was (and still is) the National School of Music, on Calais' rue du 11 Novembre.  I'd been visiting Calais for years before discovering this side street, which isn't one you'd typically venture along during a day trip to the town.  The Daquin, which opened in 1981, basically showed art-house films, and such programming provided an alternative to the more commercial fare offered by the Alhambra (in its first guise, before it was renamed the Arcades), which is situated just around the corner.  The films at the Daquin played on a large screen in the Erik Satie room, and performances at the venue alternated between films and concerts.  

The opening of the 12-screen Gaumont in the mid-90s saw the Daquin slash its number of screenings, and the cinema closed down in the summer of 2000 (the Arcades' closure swiftly followed, for similar reasons).  Still, the Daquin was open for nearly two decades, which is quite impressive considering that it always had some pretty fierce competition.  The building's exterior has undergone some remodelling since the cinema closed, but it's still very recognisable as the venue that once provided some welcome alternative programming for Calaisiens.  The current Alhambra, with its inventive mix of art-house and mainstream cinema, effectively fulfils the roles of both the previous Alhambra/Arcades and the Daquin.

[CLOSED] Le Casino

The expansive Nausicaá aquarium (pictured above) now stands on the site which once hosted Boulogne's first postwar casino, which in turn housed a cinema for a few short years.  Prior to WW2, Boulogne was the home of one of the most beautiful casinos in France but it, like virtually everything in and around the port, was destroyed in the bombardment of the war.  Once the conflict ended, the mass rebuilding of Boulogne commenced and the replacement casino, which was situated not far from where its more ornate predecessor had once stood, was completed in the late 1950s.  

The new casino had been in operation for just a few years when it was used, fairly prominently, as one of the locations in Alain Resnais' Muriel, or The Time of Return, which was released in 1963; in the same year, Johnny Hallyday played a concert at the venue.  Nearly a decade on from Resnais' masterpiece, a cinema was established inside the casino, but the venture was short-lived; back then, there was plenty of competition in Boulogne -- much of it located in the more accessible town centre -- and this was reflected in the beachfront cinema's sparse attendances.  The casino itself operated for a good many years following the closure of the cinema, before the entire building was razed in the late 1980s so that work could begin on Europe's largest aquarium, which opened in 1991.

[CLOSED] Cinéma Crystal

I don't know how many times I walked past this fine building on Calais' Rue Royale before realising it used to be a cinema.  If you were to visit Calais as a foot passenger, you could walk to this building in around 15 minutes from when the passenger bus dumps you at the front of the ferry terminal.  Once you know of the Crystal's history, it's painfully obvious that this was once a movie palace; the exterior remains largely unchanged, with a "Casino" sign now in place of the one which once read "Cinema".  The Crystal was constructed in the 1950s, alongside countless other buildings which were put up as part of a massive rebuilding programme in the city following WW2; Calais was virtually razed to the ground during the war, although the magnificent 13th-century Tour du Guet -- a mere stone's throw from the Crystal -- somehow survived.

Sadly, Cinéma Crystal wasn't around for all that long, and by the 1970s the 600-seat establishment had closed down, with the building subsequently housing a casino which is still going strong -- meaning it's now been there for roughly twice as long as the cinema was.  It's a pity that the cinema's lifespan was relatively short, but I suppose by the 70s the market was changing -- as were tastes and fashions -- and the increasing popularity (and availability) of TV was also chipping away at the status of cinemas.  You're quite free to have a wander around inside, and it all feels quite grand.  While its current use may not be the one it was originally intended for, it's nonetheless heartening to think of how this building -- like so many in the city -- sprang from the rubble of 1945.

[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)