Film criticism, interviews, and repertory notes
A journal like this is never one person's project. Venues, festivals and small crews around Gauteng let us sit in their booths, borrow their prints and ask questions long after the credits. These are the partnerships that keep the writing honest and the screenings running.
Repertory partner
A weekend repertory house that still threads 35mm. They hand us booth access, cue sheets and the occasional warped reel to write about.
Festival partner
Three days of local short films each spring. Our volunteers work the door, and we publish the programme notes and post-screening conversations.
Venue partner
The hall behind our long marathon nights. They let us test queue layouts and snack-bar timings, then tell us plainly what did not work.
Post partner
A colourist's room where we sit through grading sessions and record how Gauteng light and tight budgets shape a final cut.
Archive partner
They pull screening records, old programme booklets and venue photographs so our viewing diaries rest on something more than memory.
Education partner
Students learn changeovers and digital ingest here. We take their notes, edit lightly, and publish them under their own names.
Why we keep the lights low
Ennead Cineplex began as a shared notebook between a few people who kept ending up in the same Braamfontein booth on a Friday night. A projectionist, two festival volunteers and a pair of film-school graduates who never quite left the campus screening room. We were already writing things down, mostly for each other: which reel arrived warped, which mix buried the dialogue, which repertory season actually filled seats.
The journal exists because that record seemed worth keeping in public. Not reviews of films you can read about anywhere, but notes on the conditions they were shown under, and the people who made those conditions happen.
One piece goes up every week. Some are long viewing diaries from a single night, others are transcript excerpts from a grading suite or a booth conversation. The schedule keeps us honest about finishing what we start.
Contributors are credited by name, including the volunteers who count tickets and the projectionists who thread the print. If someone wrote it, ran it or sat through it to report on it, they get a line.
Braamfontein, Rosebank, Maboneng. The venues, the queues on a cold Thursday, the walk from the parking to the door. We write about the city we actually watch films in, not a generic idea of cinema.
Sound-mixing choices, cue dots, changeover timing, colour decisions under high-veld light. We would rather explain how a thing was made than argue about whether it was good.
A conversational tone, no gatekeeping, and no borrowed authority. We publish what we saw and what it cost the people running the room. The journal is for Gauteng filmgoers, programmers, students and makers who want the practical side alongside the long-form diary.
That also means some things stay out. No financial speculation, no adult content, no gambling, no crypto framing. The subject is the space between the seats and the screen, and we would rather stay narrow and useful than wide and vague.
A journal built from the booth, the queue and the back row.
2016
It started as a shared notebook between two projectionists in Braamfontein, logging changeover times, splice pops and the nights a print arrived with a reel missing. Friends in festival crews and film school asked for copies, so the notes went online instead of staying in a drawer.
2018
We committed to publishing once a week and crediting every contributor by name, whether they wrote a full viewing diary or sent three paragraphs about a sound mix that went sideways. That rule has held since, and it shapes how we edit: no anonymous takes, no borrowed observations.
2021
Coverage widened beyond one venue. We began sitting through midnight marathons in Maboneng and grading sessions in Rosebank, which pulled in colourists, programmers and short-film makers as regular voices. The scope stayed narrow on purpose: Gauteng rooms, real screenings, specific nights.
Today
Projectionists, festival volunteers and film-school graduates, most of us spending weekends between the seats and the screen. We keep the tone conversational, stay specific about venues and formats, and leave financial speculation, adult content and gambling out of the journal entirely.
A working gallery from the journal: booth notes, marathon nights and grading rooms. Each entry is credited, dated by the weekend it happened, and tied to a venue we actually sat in.
Projection booth craft
Three weekends of carbon-arc hum, splice pops and reel changes that never quite go to plan.
Event operations
Queue design, coffee timing and the concession math that decides whether anyone lasts until 4 a.m.
Craft interview
Transcript notes from a Rosebank grading suite on high-veld light, dust haze and small budgets.