More of once upon a time in Jerusalem,
And this time – Orion Cinema, 1950s.
Orion Cinema was a mythical movie theater that operated in the city for almost 80 years, located on Shmai Street.
The cinema was built in a semi-cylindrical shape with a corrugated tin roof and walls leaning on a steel construction and arches that supported the roof.
The cinema was originally built by a partnership established between the Dabach family, Moshe Yosef Mizrahi who also owned the Edison Cinema, and the Arab entrepreneur Daoud Dejani.
Construction of the building began in January 1938 and the first screening was already in July of that year.
The cinema was designed inspired by none other than Radio City Music Hall in New York and included 1,400 seats.
During the British Mandate, the British High Commissioners used to watch movies at the cinema, and the upper balcony was closed for them – a kind of private screening for the dignitaries of that period.
After the establishment of the state, the possibility of using the building as the Knesset was considered, but eventually the Frumin House on King George Street was chosen to serve as the first Knesset of Israel, although in hindsight the cinema may have suited our leaders more, some of whom are still living in a movie to this day.
With the arrival of VCRs in the country, pirate neighborhood cable stations, color TV, and the test broadcasts of Channel 2, the magic of the world of cinema faded, and profitability declined.
Sally Mizrahi, one of the sons of Moshe Yosef Mizrahi whose assets were divided among his sons after his death, decided to split Orion Cinema into five halls – Orion 1 to Orion 5 in order to maximize the venue’s profits with halls of varying sizes and a variety of B-movies and action films alongside quality films where coughing is prohibited.
The architect of the renovation was Amnon Ben Tzur, whose brother and uncle designed the original building. The entrance to the complex was moved towards the passage, and a luxurious cafe called Orion Cafe welcomed viewers on the roof of the building.
Projection quality deteriorated, acoustic insulation was lacking, and high school students were hired as projection staff in the five cinemas to save on expenses.
The old projectors were not properly maintained and wore out the film prints, so distributors sent old and worn film reels to the cinema, and the viewing quality and audience enjoyment rapidly declined.
Thus, the cinema’s prestige in the city waned.
Later, in 1978, secular residents of the city began a struggle to open movie theaters on Shabbat, large demonstrations took place, and in order not to violate the municipality’s orders not to open cinemas on Shabbat, the Jewish mind that invents patents turned the screenings into a members club activity –
So, a 10-minute lecture was held before each screening, in an attempt to circumvent the municipality’s instructions.
This also ultimately failed, and for most of the nineties, one man operated the cinema – David Hermon was his name.
He was the ticket seller, operated the projector, and cleaned the cinema after the movie ended – a real jack of all trades who did everything except act in the movie itself.
Since then, the complex has declined, bakeries, a McDonald’s branch, and an Irish pub were built in its place, and another mythical institution of the city faded into the pages of history,
And remains only in the memories of the city’s residents.
Shabbat Shalom to near and far and good news from Jerusalem.
Photo – Yehuda Eisenstark
During the British Mandate, the British High Commissioners used to watch movies at the cinema, and the upper balcony was closed for them – a kind of private screening for the dignitaries of that period.
After the establishment of the state, the possibility of using the building as the Knesset was considered, but eventually the Frumin House on King George Street was chosen to serve as the first Knesset of Israel, although in hindsight the cinema may have suited our leaders more, some of whom are still living in a movie to this day.
With the arrival of VCRs in the country, pirate neighborhood cable stations, color TV, and the test broadcasts of Channel 2, the magic of the world of cinema faded, and profitability declined.
Sally Mizrahi, one of the sons of Moshe Yosef Mizrahi whose assets were divided among his sons after his death, decided to split Orion Cinema into five halls – Orion 1 to Orion 5 in order to maximize the venue’s profits with halls of varying sizes and a variety of B-movies and action films alongside quality films where coughing is prohibited.
The architect of the renovation was Amnon Ben Tzur, whose brother and uncle designed the original building. The entrance to the complex was moved towards the passage, and a luxurious cafe called Orion Cafe welcomed viewers on the roof of the building.
Projection quality deteriorated, acoustic insulation was lacking, and high school students were hired as projection staff in the five cinemas to save on expenses.
The old projectors were not properly maintained and wore out the film prints, so distributors sent old and worn film reels to the cinema, and the viewing quality and audience enjoyment rapidly declined.
Later, in 1978, secular residents of the city began a struggle to open movie theaters on Shabbat, large demonstrations took place, and in order not to violate the municipality’s orders not to open cinemas on Shabbat, the Jewish mind that invents patents turned the screenings into a members club activity –
So, a 10-minute lecture was held before each screening, in an attempt to circumvent the municipality’s instructions.
This also ultimately failed, and for most of the nineties, one man operated the cinema – David Hermon was his name.
He was the ticket seller, operated the projector, and cleaned the cinema after the movie ended – a real jack of all trades who did everything except act in the movie itself.
Since then, the complex has declined, bakeries, a McDonald’s branch, and an Irish pub were built in its place, and another mythical institution of the city faded into the pages of history,
And remains only in the memories of the city’s residents.
Photo – Yehuda Eisenstark