A ride down Anna Salai — Mount Road for the nostalgically inclined — offers memories and wistful sighs, especially when the mind leans towards old films. Chennai that was Madras in the 1980s and 90s had an array of theatres, most of them clustered around Mount Road. Every theatre had its distinct identity, be it the single screen or the ones with multiple screens like Devi or Sathyam Complex.
But when time’s winged chariot sped past the LIC building, a trope that old Tamil films used to establish the location as Madras, many theatres have vanished and have morphed into commercial complexes or residential high-rises. There is no Gaiety, Chitra, Alankar, Wellington, Shanthi, Melody, Anand, Little Anand, and above all, there is no Safire complex, that looming presence just before the Anna Flyover. When theatres disappear, you clutch at some whispers from the past. Like the memory of the lost first loves, the missing theatre leaves a dull ache.
One with the city
Safire was dear to people of a certain vintage, when they whizzed past the Anna Flyover, which was earlier called the Gemini Flyover, a hat-tip to the now-defunct Gemini Studio. You cannot take the movies out of Madras, it is imbued within the city’s veins. Belonging to a diamond merchant family, Safire, Blue Diamond and Emerald constituted a popular hangout spot. Blue Diamond used to have these continuous shows and for the price of one ticket, the movie buff could sit through all the shows. Many a time, late comers caught the climax first and then sat back to figure out how the movie arrived at that pivotal moment. The air-conditioning meant that on summer days, this particular screen became an oasis and for amorous college-goers, the seminal moment of adolescence — the first kiss — was often a Blue Diamond nugget.
Initially a screen that preferred the Hollywood biggie, Safire gradually warmed to the content from beyond the Palghat Gap. While the recent pandemic-affected globe recognised Malayalam films through OTT platforms, in the good old days there was a nudge-nudge-wink-wink reflex towards movies from the neighbouring State. The ones that were screened in Madras had erotica as the primary theme and none would admit to seeing a Malayalam film because it was an embrace with notoriety.
Perception changed
But Safire changed that perception. Mammootty’s Oru CBI Diary Kurippu ran for more than 200 days, Mohan Lal’s Chitram and Kilukkam did remarkably well and when Mammootty’s Amaram flourished at Safire, the interval discussion was about the actor’s talent and director Bharatan’s expertise. Malayalam films had wrested back respect and yes, you could now tell your mother that you went for a movie from cheranadu. Suddenly, the screen fell silent one day, the complex was sold, generating as much political dust as the star dust it used to dazzle viewers with. The building was razed, wild shrubs grew, the space once high on celluloid magic became a public urinal. Going past that arena used to mean a puckered-up nose and a bleeding heart. As Chennai marches ahead with its multiplex chains, old theatres such as Safire just linger as a part of our collective memories, warming the cockles of our Madras-lover hearts.
