Photo by: RememberingSingapore
Clutching tightly onto our 3-D glasses, we were hurriedly nudged into the cinema hall amidst our excited chatter.
It was 2005. My family and I were about to watch The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl, our first 3-D movie ever, in Bedok Princess Theatre, or what my family used to call “gong zhu xi yuan” in Chinese.
Just a five-minute walk away from home, the boisterously red building stood out like a sore thumb in our neighbourhood. The word “Princess” was etched across the top of the building in bold block letters, coloured in a muted shade of yellow. A McDonald’s outlet occupied the first floor, where moviegoers would order takeaways to bring into the halls, owing to the cinema’s lax rules.
The interiors of the theatre halls were reminiscent of a neglected house that was slowly falling apart, complete with cloth seats that were squeaky and cramped. Apart from the residual smell of fried food, a strange musky smell emitted from the dusty carpeted floors. In the alley outside, tattooed youngsters loitered around, taking puffs out of their cigarettes.
Yet, no one complained.
Back then, Bedok mostly consisted of residential flats, provision shops and amenities. For a time before the Internet, it meant a lot to have a cinema within our humble enclave, regardless of how dubious it was.
As the show began playing on the big screen, my bespectacled self struggled to balance the flimsy 3D glasses on top of my own. To make matters worse, my fingers had turned oily from munching on McDonald’s French fries, leaving greasy stains all over. As the movie plot unravelled, moments of the film were disrupted by the squeaking sounds of people adjusting their sitting positions. When we eventually exited the theatre hall, six-year-old me was quite certain that the entire process was a far cry from what you’d call a premium movie experience.
Despite the tackiness of it all, that remained one of the most memorable events of my childhood. Somehow, there was an inexplicable charm to the worn-down and rustic appearance of a place so close to home, that it didn’t matter how unpleasant the experience was.
Subsequently in 2008, the age-old Princess Theatre walked into history. It was leased out as a new recreational club, consisting of facilities like a karaoke bar and a LAN game shop.
I remember feeling an odd sense of loss, like I was robbed of a place that could have harboured a lot more memories. Deep down, it felt unfair that the only memory I had was tainted with squeaky chairs and greasy fingers.
As the years went by, the building began to feel less familiar, not just because of its physical changes, but also the fact that the facilities were no longer family friendly. In 2016, the McDonald’s outlet - admittedly the building’s only saving grace - was sadly torn down.
Just like that, what was once “the movie place” was gradually transformed into a shell of its former self. Any nostalgic feelings I carried faded away with time and we were left with a gruelling ten years of a cinema-deprived neighbourhood.
In 2018, the Princess Theatre was redeveloped into Djitsun Mall, a Golden Village cineplex, much to the delight of movie lovers. Contrary to the worn-out red building, the brand-new modern complex stood proudly with its head held high.
Yet, compared to what stood there thirteen years ago, it was unclear which building was fuller of life.
As I looked up at the modern grey building well-decorated with luscious greenery, a sudden wave of nostalgia hit me. I sauntered into the mall, took the escalator up and bought tickets for Crazy Rich Asians. When it was time, I navigated my way into the sparkling clean theatre hall and took my seat, promptly sinking my head backwards into the comfort of the new leather seat.
I closed my eyes, trying to imagine that I was sitting in a boisterously red building.
Trying to picture the dirt on the old, carpeted floors.
Trying to catch a whiff of McDonald’s French fries.
Trying to relive the memories of watching The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl in the Princess Theatre once more.
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