When VHS tapes hit the scene in the ‘80s, people thought cinemas would die a natural death in a matter of a decade. But what happened was just the opposite; VHS faced a natural death and CDs took over by the 2000s to be quickly replaced by the DVDs and Blu-ray. Then the internet gave us Netflix and the rest is history.
Forty years later, theatres are still relevant. IMAX and 3D have broadened cinematic possibilities thanks in part to innovative technology, big studio budgets and all-star casts.
But this is not about commercialised cinema. Instead, we went in search of two cinema halls well past their glory days that have survived (in some form) to the present day. Although the stories are different, they lend a unique perspective to Sri Lanka’s shifting socio-political narrative down the years. Welcome to the Ritz and the Rio – a tale of two cinemas.
Ritz cinema transformed
The Ritz is in the heart of Borella. Covered in billboards, the theatre stays relevant showing Sinhala and Kollywood releases. The Gallery downstairs has been converted to a pub, while the balcony has been converted into one entire floor for screenings.
The lobby of the Ritz cinema is decorated with posters of silver screen classics like Sweep Ticket and Maruwa Samaga Wasey. Between the theatre’s ‘vomitories’ stood a defunct 35mm projector; a reminder of the cumbersome analogue era.
Rakith Sugathadasa is the current proprietor of the Ritz cinema which has been in his family for three generations. As a millennial, he is well aware of the challenges to small independent theatres. One issue, he says, is parking. Decades ago, not many people owned cars and so building parking lots were not given much attention when designing commercial buildings.
Rakith’s grandfather opened the Ritz in 1959 but passed away two years later and the cinema was rented out till 1980 after which Rakith’s father managed it until 2007. In its heyday, the Ritz was a massive theatre with a seating capacity of 700. “After the popularity of multiplexes, I decided to make it into a 116-seater. That’s why the Ritz survived and the Lido cinema didn’t,” Rakith said.
One of the main Sinhala movie centres since the ‘80s, the Ritz cinema is an independent cinema and is part of the Lanka Film Distributors (LFD). Only five film circuits have the authority to release local and foreign films in Sri Lanka – They are the MPI, EAP, CEL, LFD which are owned by the private sector, and the Rithma Film Circuit owned by the Government under the National Film Corporation.
In a world of multiplexes the Ritz keeps running due to its budget rates, according to Rakith. “We also have a bar and restaurant downstairs, so that is also one reason we are still surviving”. The Ritz upgraded to digital in 2016 to keep up with the times because analogue is just not feasible to operate. “35mm film costs Rs. 300,000 per single cinema, but a circuit can distribute to every cinema digitally for under Rs. 500,000. Moreover, film rolls are a hassle to operate”.
Rakith said he hopes to upgrade the theatre and is still managing the Ritz cinema since it’s a family heirloom. “I grew up here. The Ritz is just a hobby. I have other businesses,” he said with a smile.
“At the end of the day, the cinema is not marketable by itself. Films are what drive the market. We have a consistent crowd and sometimes get houseful in the weekends or during holidays”, he added.
Rio theatre: flawed beauty
In downtown Slave Island stands a decaying building—a flawed beauty and a tragedy of Sri Lanka’s dark past. The Rio theatre and hotel opened its doors in 1965 and featured Sri Lanka’s first 70mm Todd-AO projector. The Todd-AO 70 mm widescreen film format was developed by Mike Todd and the Naify brothers. The Todd AO also marked the beginning of what later became ‘Surround Sound’.
The Rio’s first screened the musical South Pacific which was attended by the then Governor General William Goppalawa and a 20-year-old Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga.
During its heyday the Rio screened 70mm hits such as Can Can, Alamo, Sound of Music, Cleopatra and West Side Story. In the 60s, the Rio cinema became a popular entertainment hub for Colombo families as it featured amenities such as restaurants and ice cream shops.
“But the good times came to an end quickly when the Film Corporation took over all distribution and importation of films and then the quality of movies began its decline from then,” Rathnarajah ‘Thambi’ Navarathnam, proprietor and manager of the Rio cinema, said.
“Hollywood didn’t want to deal with a monopoly; they were big enough to ignore Sri Lanka and the 360 cinemas islandwide dropped to a mere 140 in the following years. However, to save the industry, a few private entities were once again allowed to import films.
Torched
The Rio was torched during the communal riots of 1983 just as many other Tamil-owned businesses. The cinema was rebuilt but the once-magnificent 70mm Todd-AO was replaced by the basic 35mm projectors, marking the end of an era.
Rio earned a bad reputation after its fall from grace. The fact that the old cinema is being used as a ‘cruising’ spot is an open secret. The 35mm projectors are handled by an old-time technician who splices martial arts films, exploitation movies and R-rated shows into one continuous roll which are screened thrice a day.
The Rio in recent years has also become the haunt for artistes, anarchists and bohemian-types. Several large murals have taken up the walls and the hotel section has been rented out to raves, parties, rock concerts and galleries. The Goethe Institut and Techno Worlds undertook minor restoration efforts and closed off much of the unsafe parts of the building.
Contrasting fates
The stories of the Rio and Ritz are part of our continuous internal struggle as a nation.
The contrasting fates summarise the duality of Sri Lanka’s journey—adaptation and decline, resilience and abandonment. While the Ritz thrives through modernisation and community relevance, the Rio stands as a haunting reminder of missed opportunities and the scars of history. Together, they challenge us to confront the choices that have shaped not only our cultural institutions but also our collective identity.
In cinema, as in life, transformation often requires vision and effort, while ruin comes easily, borne of neglect or misguided decisions. The Ritz and the Rio are not just cinemas; they are reflections of who we are, where we have been and the possibilities that lie ahead. Whether we learn from their stories or repeat the patterns they represent, remains to be seen.
