FernGully. Jumanji. A Bug’s Life.

I can name the movies I’ve seen at Eros as a child, not because they were indelible or that I have absurdly great memory but because these were the movies I watched at birthday parties in the smaller Eros Mini Theatre, on the third floor of the building. I recall it as a 60-seater with walls painted in shades of blue and silver, and comfy rattan chairs that were more suited to a Bahamian beach club than a movie screening.

The small screen, in many ways, made a bigger impact in my life for the self-contained world it created. It felt intimate and was a chance to chill with friends, before the ubiquity of Netflix and chill, and its attendant euphemistic meaning. The theatre opened out onto a round foyer and off to the side were administrative offices. Behind the projector room was the big screen for the main theatre. Often, the muffled but distinctive sounds of a fight scene, or worse, a film song would come through to the foyer, where these sounds would become background score for the other part of the birthday — the cake-cutting and snacks after. This was where children would spend time running around in circles, quite literally. At some point, the opening in the centre was closed with plexiglass because party decorations — streamers, balloons and so on — were chucked from the third floor at unsuspecting staff and movie-goers. Kids, after all, will be kids.

There seems to be no record of when the Mini Theatre was built. But when the Eros Theatre, housed in the Cambata building with its ziggurat-like tower that reaches for the sky, opened in 1938, it was part of an Art Deco trend. It stood with the buildings along Queen’s Road (now Maharshi Karve Road), which overlooked the Oval Maidan and featured bright facades, stylistic symmetry, horizontal eyebrows and cantilevered verandahs or balconies. Thanks to a long and much-overdue restoration, the building is back to its former glory.

“The earlier 1,204-seater cinema hall, with bas-reliefs on the walls and Rexine seating, was an inviting space. For three-odd hours at a time, punters would hit pause in the City of Dreams, to be transported by superstars and plots, skylines and scandal.”

The building, designed by Sohrabji Bhedwar of the architectural firm Bhedwar & Bhedwar is a layer-cake of symmetry, especially evident when seen from the Veer Nariman Road on the other side, adjacent to Churchgate Station. Its marble staircase, black and white marble flooring and hints of gold and silver in the ceiling still stand out, even in a city where other monumental movie houses were built and have their own legacy. The earlier 1,204-seater cinema hall, with bas-reliefs on the walls and Rexine seating, was an inviting space. For three-odd hours at a time, punters would hit pause in the city of dreams, to be transported by superstars and plots, skylines and scandal.

In 2017, it was boarded up, reportedly due to non-payment of dues. In the years since, there have been rumours of it being torn down. Instead, this month, it reopened as an IMAX theatre with 300 seats, and no Mini Theatre. It stays true to its single-screen roots, with some enhancements. The recesses on the elevation light up, the octagonal elevators have been adjusted for efficiency, and the lobby — with the original foyer and its circular sunroof still intact — is meant to have places to eat and shop. Notably, the bas-relief panels that evoke the movie-making process have been painstakingly restored, and the canopy above the entrance remains distinctively Art Deco. Project lead Nishant Gupta adds that the six-year-long renovation — carried out by architect Hafeez Contractor’s team alongside conservation architect Kirtida Unwalla — made use of marble and other materials to mimic the original designs, even as other aspects like the interior columns and facade were restored and maintained.

Even before the city started changing at a rapid pace, I tried to recreate the birthday parties of my childhood as a 20-something, before Eros had closed its doors. One evening, friends were invited to the Mini Theatre to watch Jumanji. There were homemade sandwiches and coin pizzas to eat, while a blockbuster’s soundtrack leaked through from the main screen.

Today, there may be no more cinema-for-hire on the property, and so no recent celebrations to remember. However, it’s ready for the next chapter of its life — as a heritage building with a state-of-the-art theatre. Hopefully, it’s where new memories are made.