Figure 1.8 Majestic Cinema, Zanzibar, c.1956. Photo by Ranchhod T. Oza, courtesy of Capital Art Studio, Zanzibar
Letters to the editor in the Tanganyikan press show that by the 1950s, audiences expected theater management to keep them entertained and to offer the latest cinematic technology—and if the managers fell behind, patrons were not afraid to publicly call attention to their failings. Throughout the 1950s, few subjects garnered as much consistent attention in the newspapers as cinemas, films, and the moviegoing experience. Although many articles heralded the opening of new cinemas, the introduction of 3-D films and screens, or expensive renovations, letters to the editor tended to feature complaints about all manner of problems, including broken chairs and “substandard” seating, poor lighting, failed sound, scratched films, delayed start times, and extended intermissions. Audiences in regional cinemas lamented local owners’ reluctance to accommodate CinemaScope and stereophonic sound. Feeling relegated to second-class status vis-à-vis their coastal cousins, they complained bitterly about watching endless repeats of releases made before production studios switched to the new technology or, worse still, viewing new releases but having large portions of the picture flow over the walls, audience, and ceiling. Some owners tried a local, less expensive fix by switching from a 35 mm lens to a 70 mm one, which at least contained the image to the screen, but the projection quality was not nearly as good as CinemaScope. Like the owners of the Sultana, many of the men who owned up-country cinemas had only recently built and outfitted their venues, and they found it frustrating to abandon nearly new projection, sound, and screen equipment—and expensive to replace it. But to protect themselves from charges of incompetence in the national press, they made improvements as soon as they could. Their earnings, their status as patrons of community leisure, and their personal reputations as top-notch businessmen all depended on their willingness to invest in the new technology.
The introduction of CinemaScope projection and stereophonic sound inaugurated something of an arms race in Dar es Salaam. In 1954, the Odeon and Avalon were vying for the title of “the first CinemaScope in East Africa”—a title won by the Avalon and proudly displayed in its corporate logo.54 Less than a decade after opening the Avalon in 1944, the investors in Indo-African spent $56,000 to secure the title. They installed CinemaScope projectors, a new screen, and stereophonic sound incorporating fifteen speakers. They also added upholstered seating, enlarged the legroom between rows, increased the number of balcony seats to 239, and enhanced the ventilation and air-cooling equipment. It took nine agonizing months and another $140,000 to refurbish the Avalon, but the owners were determined to do the job right. They also renovated the facade of the theater to make it look more modern and less like the godown that it once was.55
Figure 1.9 Business letterhead of the Avalon Cinema, Dar es Salaam
Rising to meet the challenge, Hassanali Hameer Hasham, owner of the Majestic Cinema in Zanzibar and the main competitive rival of Indo-African, opened the Empress Cinema in 1954, just a short walk away from the Avalon. Built and equipped at a cost of $420,000 (or roughly $4.2 million today), the Empress was the largest theater in the nation, accommodating 793 patrons—47 more than the refurbished Avalon. The Empress also bragged of the largest balcony in Tanzania, with room for 330 people in widely spaced and deeply terraced rows.56 Of course, the Empress also featured CinemaScope projection, a wide screen for both CinemaScope’s panoramic films and the latest 3-D features, specially designed acoustic ceiling tiles, and multiple speakers for stereophonic sound. According to the European press, however, its crowning glory was a functioning air-conditioning system, indicative of the owners’ determination to assure every aspect of their patrons’ comfort. Even the European population of Dar es Salaam applauded the owners for their attention to detail, comfort, and design.57 Such competition guaranteed access to films and venues that were every bit the equal of midcentury London and Bombay.
By the mid-1950s, adding an adjoining bar and restaurant to a cinema also became de rigueur for a modern leisure venue on the mainland. Despite the fact that many key investors and members of the moviegoing public were Muslim, nearly all the cinemas that were opened or renovated after the war featured a bar. The Odeon was the first theater in Dar es Salaam to serve alcohol, and according to some, this helped it retain its edge even when better pictures were shown at the Avalon and the Empire.58 When the Avalon was renovated, $70,000 was invested in building an adjoining restaurant and two bars. The Empress again one-upped its competitors, including two restaurants in its building as well as a large bar with a parquet dance floor that could be viewed by the patrons in the upper restaurant, adjacent to the cinema’s balcony seating. The bar provided an added enticement for Europeans as well as “modern” urban men, for they could fulfill their gendered obligation by taking the family out to see a movie but then excuse themselves to join others who found the bar more entertaining. It was not uncommon in the 1950s for Muslim men to mix business and pleasure in venues where alcohol was served: being open to others’ social drinking was one of many signs of being modern.
After the war, discourses of modernization circulated widely in East Africa, spurred in part by the imam of the Shia Ismailis, Sultan Muhammed Shah, the Aga Khan I. Regarded as a liberal innovator on many social issues, he actively encouraged Muslim women to pursue advanced degrees, enter the workforce, and abandon the hijab in favor of Western dress. In East Africa, he also inaugurated numerous large-scale investments in public welfare, including health care facilities, educational institutions, and modern affordable housing. He owned numerous prize-winning thoroughbreds, and he was the father of Aly Khan, the third husband of the American actress Rita Hayworth.59 Presumably, he had no problem with the head of the Ismaili religious community in Tanzania, Kassum Sunderji, owning a cinema that featured a bar. Kassum, after all, made his initial fortune selling spirits and wine to Europeans, and that did not keep him from praying each day or donating generously to philanthropic endeavors. Practicality in business matters allowed him to fulfill his religious and social obligations. For those familiar with the competitive rivalry in Tanzanian football, dance, and music groups in the 1950s, the persistent one-upmanship that typified the business dealings of cinema owners surely strikes a chord.60
Of course, business rivalry centered on film and turning out the largest weekly crowd. When tickets for a theater’s movie turned up on the black market or when patrons had to be seated on soda crates in the aisles due to overcrowding, the reputations of the theater’s owners and workers blossomed; they and their public had scored. Authorities repeatedly chastised cinema managers for not working harder with the police to end the black market trade in movie tickets, but those authorities failed to realize how much black market sales augmented prestige.
In Dar es Salaam, the Empire might run Pyaar (Kapoor, 1950), featuring Raj Kapoor and Nargis, against the Avalon’s premier of Guru Dutt’s Baazi (1951), with heartthrobs Dev Anand and Geita Bali. The smaller Azania would counter with an Egyptian film such as Gharan Rakissa (Rafla, 1950) featuring Muhammed Fawzi and Noor el-Hooda, making it a tough choice all around for film fans on Saturdays and Sundays. In 1953, if the Empire in Zanzibar started the week with Ivanhoe (Thorpe, 1952), starring Robert Taylor and Elizabeth Taylor, the Majestic might counter with a tried but true offering of Samson and Delilah (DeMille, 1949), with Hedy Lamarr and Victor Mature. In general, theaters in Zanzibar and Dar es Salaam screened films within six to nine months of their opening in New York or Bombay, though credit, connections, or shipping difficulties sometimes resulted in a delay. The aim was also to open a new film at each screening, but if the new movie on hand could not compete with a rival’s offering, then managers pulled the best from available stock to remain competitive in the battle for the public’s affection and leisure spending. A film such as Samson and Delilah might have been five years old in 1953, but as chapter 4 shows, it had all the elements that Tanzanians prized in movies. As late as 2004, it still held audiences spellbound when screened on ferries running between Dar es Salaam and Zanzibar.
Despite their no-holds-barred rivalry in putting on the best shows and attracting the most fans, competing owners and managers maintained