Cathay was much more than just another cinema and building

For a week hogged by the Shangri-la Dialogue and a not insignificant announcement that Lawrence Wong was acting Prime Minister, three other news stories stood out – the Ang Mo Kio SERS enbloc development scheme, the decision to let SportsSG take over ownership of the Sports Hub and the closing down of Cathay Cinema. I may get back to the first two in the weeks ahead, they are important developments. But for this week, I am waxing nostalgic about the iconic Cathay, which later became the Cathay cineplex.

It’s lights out for one of Singapore’s oldest cinemas, according to a Straits Times report. The Cathay cineplex will cease operation from June 27. To be accurate, the Cathay cinema that older Singaporeans knew had already disappeared a while back, together with the original iconic building of which many people have interesting, if not fond, memories. Now even the rejuvenated version of the cinema will be shutting down. Will the building’s facade and the name be the only reminders of a rich heritage? That would be sad and tragic for a country that seems to see more value in building white elephants or organising irrelevant events that do not resonate with its population.

As the majestic house brand image of a once titanic Asian cinema chain, the original building was itself a proud Singapore landmark, for its size and history. 

Cathay Building was the first skyscraper in Singapore and the tallest building in Southeast Asia in the 1940s. A lot of history was packed into the building in the early stages. During World War II, the Japanese used it as their propaganda headquarter.  Subhas Chandra Bose announced the formation of the Provisional Government of Azad Hind (Free India) at a rally held at the building, with himself as Head of State, Prime Minister and War Minister.

Even the former President of Pakistan, Zia ul-Haq, had something to say about Cathay. As a Straits Times journalist, I met him in Islamabad in the 1980s for an interview. One of the first things he said to me was: “I remember Cathay Building, Mr Tan. Is it still there?” I told him it was. Apparently, he came to Singapore as a British army lieutenant and was stationed at Cathay, one of the Allies’ Far East Command centres. In fact, when my interview was published in Straits Times, sub-editor Khoo How San instinctively used this headline: “Zia: I remember Cathay building”. How San subsequently joined the NTU Institute of Defence and Strategic Studies.

My own personal memories of Cathay are of less historical significance but still an important part of my journey as a Singaporean and as a journalist.

The old Cathay had one of the worst front stall seats in Singapore. The seats were configured such that the front row seats were neck-spraining for patrons. They were too near the screen. If you happened to get a seat on either end of the front row, you would leave the cinema with strained eyes and necks. But then I was young and would willingly suffer the slings and arrows of desperation for an hour or two of cinematic escapism. 

Then, when I became a journalist, I collected another set of memories. This time, I did not actually go to the public cinema. Cathay Organisation, with Shaw and the other main chains plus the major film distributors, all had their own private preview theatrettes. These were small screening auditoriums where you had the chance to watch the films for your writeups before they were released for general screening. 

Cathay’s previews were unforgettable. How come? One or two reasons. First, the cinema chain employed long-serving PR people who genuinely enjoyed their job because they were film fans themselves and they liked meeting people. Second, they had budget, meaning, at each preview, there would be a sumptuous spread of drinks and makan. One person who seemed to be turning up frequently at the previews and for the whiskey was Alex Josey, a close journalist friend of Lee Kuan Yew, who wrote a number of books on the late Prime Minister. He would regale us with stories of the rich and famous whom he had encountered. Some of the tales he spun about some regional leaders and their bedroom activities were somewhat bawdy and unpublishable.

Maybe one day, these Josey stories would become scripts for Netflix – one of the causes for the demise of Cathay and other cinemas.

Tan Bah Bah is a former senior leader writer with The Straits Times. He was also managing editor of a magazine publishing company.