The news broke last week via Des Partridge’s blog: Dendy George Street cinemas, a Brisbane institution, is set to close its doors permanently at the end of this year. With the lease expiring on December 31, 2008, it marks the end of an era for a beloved independent cinema. While perhaps not entirely unexpected given recent trends, the announcement still carries a weight of nostalgia and reflection for cinephiles across the city.
For many, including myself, Dendy George Street has been more than just a place to watch movies. It’s been a cultural hub, a space for discovering independent films, and a source of countless cinematic memories. Over the years, I’ve spent numerous evenings within its walls, often finding myself in near-empty theaters, a testament to the challenge of drawing crowds to independent cinema in the face of mainstream blockbusters. The opening of the newer, more modern Dendy Portside undoubtedly contributed to the decline in patronage at George Street, offering a refreshed movie-going experience that, while appealing, lacks the character and history of its older sibling.
Despite the shifting tides of cinema consumption, the closure of Dendy George Street feels like a genuine loss. It’s a farewell to a classic Brisbane cinema, a place where countless movie lovers have shared moments of laughter, tears, and thought-provoking experiences. In recognition of this significant closure, I wanted to share some personal memories of films seen at Dendy George Street, celebrating the unique cinematic journey it provided.
One film experience that remains vividly etched in my memory is seeing Requiem For A Dream in early 2001. This film profoundly impacted me, so much so that it became my favorite film of that year and still ranks highly in my all-time favorites. As I wrote in my review at the time, “Requiem For A Dream leaves you thinking for a long time. I left the Dendy Cinema doors an emotionally changed individual.” The film’s raw intensity and powerful score resonated deeply, creating an immersive and unforgettable cinematic experience within the intimate setting of Dendy George Street.
Another standout memory is Mulholland Drive, which I saw roughly a year later. The cinema was packed, buzzing with anticipation for this critically acclaimed film. Squeezed into a seat on the far left, I was captivated for the entire two and a half hours. David Lynch’s enigmatic masterpiece, with its surreal narrative and mind-bending plot twists, was perfectly suited for the focused viewing environment of Dendy George Street. It became my favorite film of 2002, a testament to the cinema’s ability to showcase challenging and unconventional works.
In 2006, I experienced Hidden, a French thriller that sparked intense post-movie discussions with friends. The film’s suspenseful narrative and ambiguous ending, typical of director Michael Haneke, left the audience buzzing with questions and interpretations. I vividly recall the hushed whispers and perplexed expressions as the credits rolled at Dendy George Street, a collective acknowledgment of the film’s masterful craft and intellectual engagement.
Dendy George Street also played host to more niche and independent productions, such as Burke & Wills, a low-budget Australian film I saw in 2007. This black and white film, made with minimal resources, offered a unique cinematic perspective. The screening I attended included a memorable Q&A session with the filmmakers, Oliver Torr and Matt Zeremes, a testament to Dendy’s support for independent filmmaking and its willingness to offer audiences more than just the standard movie-going experience. Even my own voice made it onto the DVD release, asking a question during that very Q&A, a personal memento of a special Dendy screening.
However, when discussing memorable and perhaps more provocative cinematic experiences at Dendy George Street, it’s impossible to overlook films like 9 Songs and Shortbus. These two films stand out in my memory, and indeed in my entire film reviewing history spanning over 2,500 films, for their exceptionally explicit sex scenes. Seeing both of these films at Dendy George Street was an experience in itself, not just for the films’ content but also for the palpable audience reactions they elicited.
9 Songs, in particular, is notable for its unsimulated sex scenes woven into a narrative about a brief but intense love affair. The film’s frank and unflinching portrayal of intimacy was groundbreaking and certainly pushed boundaries for mainstream cinema audiences. At Dendy George Street, watching 9 Songs was a sociological study as much as a movie experience. Scanning the audience, one could observe a diverse range of viewers – young couples, older couples, individuals – all drawn to this controversial film. The reactions were equally varied. Some viewers reacted with open laughter, seemingly amused by the explicit content unfolding on screen. Others, perhaps more reserved or even embarrassed, retreated into the shadows of the cinema, their silence speaking volumes about the unconventional nature of the film they were witnessing. The experience of watching 9 Songs Sex Scenes in a public cinema like Dendy George Street was a stark contrast to typical movie fare, prompting reflection on societal attitudes towards sexuality and representation in film.
Another unique event at Dendy George Street was an advance screening of Storytelling in 2002. Director Todd Solondz, known for his provocative and darkly comedic films, presented another boundary-pushing work. What made this screening particularly memorable was the unexpected pre-movie entertainment – a dance troupe performing on stage. The performance, while certainly unique, felt somewhat incongruous with the film itself, adding to the overall quirky and unconventional Dendy experience.
The Dendy George Street also played a role in the Australian film industry, hosting AFI Screenings in 2000. These special screenings allowed members of the Australian Film Institute to view and vote on films for the annual awards, ensuring even smaller Australian productions received consideration. One screening in September 2000 clashed directly with the AFL Grand Final, a major event in Australian sports. Caught in a dilemma between cinematic duty and sporting passion, I devised a somewhat unorthodox solution: a fleeting visit to the cinema during the second quarter of the match, just long enough to get my AFI card stamped as proof of attendance. It was the shortest cinema visit on record, a humorous anecdote born out of the Dendy George Street’s commitment to showcasing Australian cinema.
Even technical difficulties contributed to the Dendy George Street’s unique character. The infamous air-conditioning dilemmas a few years ago, when the system failed, led to the installation of enormous fans to circulate air. These industrial-sized fans, while ineffective in combating the Brisbane heat and creating a noticeable “whooshing” sound, became another quirky memory associated with the cinema, adding to its collection of unusual movie-going experiences.
Beyond these specific anecdotes, countless other films contributed to the Dendy George Street legacy: The Motorcycle Diaries, 21 Grams, Elephant, Spellbound, and The Pledge, to name a few. Each visit added another layer to the rich tapestry of memories woven within its walls.
As Dendy George Street prepares for its final reel, I encourage fellow film lovers to visit one last time. Relive the nostalgia, create a final memory in this Brisbane cinematic institution, and appreciate the unique space it held in the city’s cultural landscape. The closure is not just the end of a cinema; it’s the closing chapter of countless personal cinematic journeys.
