Another “Once Upon a Time in Jerusalem”
This time – Jerusalem Cinema, Cinema 1, located in the Kiryat Yovel shopping center, early 1970s.
In honor of the start of summer vacation where the kids today sit bored in front of screens—we had a very different experience during the summer breaks of our childhood.
A unique experience of wobbly and broken wooden chairs, cigarette smoke, and three movies with one ticket.
While most of the cinemas in the city during the early 1970s were concentrated downtown, a new cinema opened in the Kiryat Yovel shopping center—Jerusalem Cinema, also known as Cinema 1.
Those who went there could never forget it:
Three movies in two and a half hours for the price of one ticket.
To stay within the tight schedule, the cinema owners would cut scenes from the films, and viewers had to fill in the gaps using their own imagination. Thus, the famously vivid “Jerusalem imagination” was born.
Azit the Paratrooper Dog was still trying to find her way home, barking at King Kong who was stuck atop the Empire State Building.
Yoram Gaon as Yoni Netanyahu in Operation Entebbe was still waiting for the Hercules aircraft.
Bruce Lee and his nunchucks turned every viewer into a karate expert during the intermissions.
The fat guy from Laurel and Hardy stayed fat.
Tarzan swung between trees, and The Magnificent Seven were still looking for their seventh member—alongside Benzi, Yehuda’le, and Stella—while embarrassed kids blushed in the dark.
Rugged Jerusalem men laughed at Trinity and Bambino and wiped a tough-guy tear during Champion’s Story.
Everyone had a friend who knew a friend at the entrance and snuck in for free.
And parents earned a peaceful Friday afternoon nap while the kids discovered whole new worlds at the cinema.
The sounds of whistles and shouts from the audience when the film reels were changed, when the projectionist (“Sartan—change the reel!”) went to the bathroom, and the clinking of empty glass Tempo bottles rolling from the top of the cinema down to the stage—these were the sounds of our childhood.
The floor between the creaky wooden chairs was carpeted in black sunflower seed shells from previous screenings.
The concession stand sold Bazooka gum, slices of white bread with strawberry jam, and expired snacks.
A true Jerusalem mix of well-to-do kids alongside the hardcore crowd from Stern Street and the Katamonim neighborhood.
Those who were there and lived it—will never forget.
Later, the cinema became a giant furniture store.
In 1989, the building was demolished and replaced by the Hod Yerushalayim senior home.
Legend has it that to this day, in the late hours of the night, strange sounds emerge from the walls of the senior home:
A drill sergeant’s exaggerated Persian accent, the barking of a paratrooper dog, and the rolling of glass bottles.
Shabbat Shalom to those far and near from Jerusalem,
May the hostages return home swiftly, along with the IDF soldiers,
And may peace come upon Israel.
Photo by Yosef Arish.
