The New Cinema Vérité

By GRANT ROSENBERG | Paris Sunday, July 27, 2003

REEL MIX: MK2 offers both art films and blockbusters

NICOLAS TAVERNIER/REA

On a sunny afternoon in Paris' Latin Quarter, Jean-Pascal Croux stands on the sidewalk outside the Cinoches Cinemas, a modest movie house with a run-down box office and two small theaters that open directly onto the sidewalk. He's one of a dozen moviegoers waiting to see In the Mood for Love, Wong Kar-wai's lush tale about two people who suspect their spouses of adultery. Produced in Hong Kong and released three years ago, the movie is one of 13 playing on the theater's two screens. "I've heard it's visually beautiful," says Croux, 30. A cinephile, he sees a film a week, and he's a proud purist; he doesn't own a DVD player or VCR. "It's important to go out to see these films on a screen with an audience," he says. He prefers this small theater with no concession stand to the hard-sell accommodations of the multiplex chains.

Croux's romantic purism is Paris incarnate; the popularity of no-frills, revival-house moviegoing helped make cinema's birthplace unique as the film capital of the world. A typical week in the City of Lights offers some 200 examples of second-run and repertoire fare from around the

arty cineplex

The Chain Reaction
Somewhere between multiplex chain and art house lies the Groupe MK2. With 58 screens in 10 locations around Paris playing everything from Swiss documentaries to The Hulk, MK2 has fans among cinephiles and general moviegoers alike.

Founder Marin Karmitz, 64, started his first cinema in 1974, near the Bastille. "I felt the time had come to approach cinema differently," says the Romanian émigré. "Opening that first theater was a reaction to the existing run-down art-house scene, a way to bring films in their original languages to Paris neighborhoods." Today, an average of 82,000 Parisians visit an MK2 outlet each week. MK2 also produces and distributes films, championing filmmakers like German-born Austrian Michael Haneke (The Piano Teacher) and the late Polish director Krzysztof Kieslowski (the Three Colors trilogy: Blue, White and Red). MK2 also produces DVDs of the oeuvres of veterans like Chabrol and Resnais, with comprehensive bonus features, for international distribution.

The schedules for each cinema are tailored to its neighborhood, with individual managers selecting movies for reprises and special screenings. Showing a high concentration of French films, Karmitz's cinema chain continues to grow, the latest addition being a 14-screen multiplex with a store and restaurant near the grand Mitterrand Library. The aptly named MK2 Biblioth�que averages some 20,000 admissions per week. "If you offer people an interesting mix of films," says Karmitz, "they will respond." — G.R.

globe spanning a century of cinema, most playing at 40 or so modestly sized, independent theaters. (That's about twice as many as in London, which has a larger population.)

But that tradition is under attack. According to the Fédération Nationale des Cinémas Français, 13 cinemas have closed since 1985 in the Latin Quarter alone, the heart of repertoire moviegoing. Even though the independent theaters receive national subsidies in the tens of thousands of euros per screen, "it will be tough for theaters like ours in the next few years," says Daniel Cartier, projection manager at the illustrious Le Champo cinema, which has been run by the same family since 1939. Despite the theater's overall historic popularity, a recent James Bond revival was poorly attended. The culprit is obvious, at least to Cartier: the series' ubiquity on home video. "A decade ago, these seats would have been filled," he insists. With 49.2 million DVDs sold in France last year, the home-video market is booming. More and more classic films are becoming available, and if a movie lover can own or rent high-quality copies, often with bonus features, there are fewer reasons to leave home to see to them. It's just one more way that Paris — alas — is becoming more like other places.

Another threat comes from multiplex chains like UGC, Gaumont and MK2, where patrons pay a yearly fee of just over €200 to attend any film, anytime, at cinemas with refreshments and often stadium-style seating in auditorium-size theaters. It's a great bargain for those who see more than a few films per month, but it fosters an allegiance to participating cinemas. Some independents have found it necessary to take part in the joint Gaumont-MK2-Pathé program to stay in touch with high-frequency cineasts.

Other revival houses are fighting back in their own way. Le Studio des Ursulines, for example, changed its theme to become Paris' only cinema exclusively showing children's films for its daytime schedule. The Le Champo hosts all-nighter festivals that begin at midnight and conclude with a light breakfast. Even so, it seems like the saga of the independent art houses may be on its last reel. The survival of revival cinemas ultimately depends on the dedication of film lovers like Jean-Pascal Croux. "These kinds of movie theaters are irreplaceable," he says. Too few Parisians appear to agree