Despite shrinking audiences and mounting expenses, Ireland’s independent cinemas are surviving – thanks to their owners’ commitment to their communities and a passion for what they’re doing
THIS MORNING, as he does every morning, Kieran Gleeson will sit at his office desk in Listowel’s Classic cinema and try to work out his next move. He will scour trade papers, design fliers, and contact distributors. He’ll spend long hours painstakingly researching new releases online. The challenges are, he says, never-ending, but as a third-generation cinema owner it’s simply part and parcel of who he is.
It’s a passion, he says. It’s “in the blood”.
When Gleeson bought the Classic in 1987, the consensus was that he was “nuts”. This was, after all, a time when cinemas in moribund small-town Ireland were closing in droves, not opening. Gleeson, however, remained defiant and determined. “I didn’t care what people thought,” he says. “I was doing what I wanted to do. I became very independent and free to do my own thing.”
Twenty-four years later, the Classic is still holding its own. One of the few hardy independents left standing in an Irish cinema landscape largely dominated by the suburban multiplexes of the Ward Anderson chain, this longevity is impressive, The Classic and its fellow independents are operating in a climate where mere survival is itself a measure of success. Rental and maintenance costs are up, while box-office takings are down – they have returned to “2005 levels, and still dropping” according to Mark Doherty, chairman of the Independent Cinema Association.
As recent weeks have clearly demonstrated, even state-of-the-art, urban facilities such as Dublin’s Light House, a flagship in Ireland’s independent/arthouse fleet, are not immune to such financial stresses, pressures and strains. Though the High Court has now granted the Light House temporary reprieve in its ongoing rental dispute with its landlord in the form of an adjournment, its future remains parlous and uncertain.
Francis O’Sullivan, whose family has been running the beautiful, single-screen Phoenix cinema in Dingle since 1979, argues that such uncertainty is par for the course for independents. “From a business point of view, we face nothing but challenges and difficulties. It’s always a struggle. Any sensible person would say ‘turn the key on the door’, because there are so many expenses. The price of heating has gone up, as have all costs. So you have a lot more minuses in the business than you had, say, 20 years ago.”
Aside from spiralling costs and cinema attendances that have, over the past 24 months begun to dwindle, one of the key ongoing challenges facing independent operators is securing prints of new films on the first day or week of their release. As Michael O’Riordan, owner of Kanturk’s three-screen Cosey Midiplex, says: “Distributors want a certain return on a print and we might not always generate the type of revenue they’d expect. That’s why we often end up screening second-run films that have finished in the multiplexes.”
One technological innovation that has frequently been touted as a potential saviour for independent and arthouse venues is “digital cinema”. Storing and distributing films on hard drives, for example, costs a tiny fraction of the price involved in creating and shipping 35mm prints, and should in theory lead to a greater number of “copies” being available to smaller exhibitors.
The question as to whether or not this development amounts to a brave new dawn for independent cinemas is one hotly debated among Irish owners.
Mick Hannigan, director of the Cork Film Festival and former owner of Cork’s fondly remembered Kino cinema, takes an optimistic view. “The prospect of success for independent arthouse cinemas in a digital age is greatly enhanced,” he says. “One of the real commercial difficulties the Kino had was in securing prints of arthouse films. With arthouse films in Ireland there might be one or two prints available, so the Kino wasn’t necessarily getting them on the day of release. Whereas with digital, making multiple copies available isn’t a problem, so you can open on the same day as other cinemas, and benefit from the marketing drives, media reviews, etc.”
However, though the potential long-term advantages of digital film are attractive, the cost of replacing 35mm projectors with a digital system remains prohibitive for many. There are also concerns that such systems could quickly succumb to technological obsolescence, necessitating further significant investment a few years down the line.
For cinemas financially incapable of making the transition, the prospects look bleak. As digital continues to grow, accessing 35mm prints will most likely become increasingly problematic, leaving many independents with the stark choice of adapting or dying.
Gleeson, who continues to use 35mm in all of his three screens, suggests that the inability to show digital films is already becoming a problem. "I would have loved, for example, to have screened Xavier Beauvois's Of Gods and Men, as I've had numerous requests for it," he says. "But I can't because I don't have a digital system. I'm working round it as best I can."
So in the face of such harsh technological and financial realities, what sustains independent cinemas? What keeps them going? According to Hannigan, the answer is simple. “I would ascribe the survival of small independent cinemas to the enthusiasm of the cinema owner, particularly in smaller towns. They’re not ways of making money. The owners tend to have a deep commitment to their communities, and a real love of what they’re doing”.
Unlike suburban multiplexes, which usually function as mere adjuncts to the shopping mall experience, independent cinemas can become spaces central to their communities, both geographically and culturally.
For Gleeson, who is also involved in Listowel’s Writers’ Week, the ability of a cinema to positively impact upon and transform its surroundings is a source of some pride. “A businessperson in Listowel told me that when I reopened the cinema in 1987 it was the best thing for the town,” he says. “It gave the town a centre again.”
While there’s understandable concern and anxiety for what the future holds, and talk of “shifting demographics” and “economies of scale”, the centrality of cinema and cinemas in Irish social and cultural life is something most independent owners still feel passionate about.
“I don’t think we get the appreciation we deserve most of the time,” says O’Riordan. “I think most small independent cinemas are run primarily for the benefit of the community and the surrounding area. I mean, if I was working for the minimum wage, I’d earn more.”
“All we can do is carry on and hope there’s still a livelihood there. For a town without a cinema has always got something missing.”
