The much-maligned erotic thriller The Canyons (which will be viewed as a classic in a decade or so, but that’s another column for another time) opens with a montage of shuttered cinemas, their doors boarded up and their car parks awash with detritus. For cinephiles, there could be no greater indicator of a culture in decline. Yet at the time of its release, I thought these were the problems of America, of hulking, great corporate-screening facilities that couldn’t tough it out through an uncertain period of film distribution. I hadn’t felt the damage that a major cinema being shut down could reap on a city’s psyche. 

Then came the case of the Filmhouse. When it unexpectedly closed its doors two-and-a-half years ago (along with Edinburgh International Film Festival and Aberdeen’s Belmont Cinema), so too did Edinburgh lose its only real outlet where programming was undertaken with an independent spirit. The nearest organisation with a similar ethos was the Glasgow Film Theatre, almost an hour-and-a-half commute away (Cameo, owned by Picturehouse, is excellent but doesn’t quite embody the same values). 

A major arts capital of Europe was without a community space dedicated to the arthouse. Yet the writing was on the wall before its closure. My last visit (to see the delightful Brian And Charles, if you must know) meant tolerating the usual obstacles to enjoyment: a dark corridor that looked as though it hadn’t been painted in years; an audience of three people (myself and my partner included); and the feeling that, despite its illustrious history, little was being done to maintain the building. The same complaints echoed from anyone I spoke to. People wanted to love this place, but the quality of the experience wasn’t making it easy. 

If all goes well during the £1.9m revamp, the three existing screens will be given a major overhaul and a fourth will be added, alongside better accessibility, an improved café-bar and superior acoustics. But the real lessons that need to be learned lie with communication. The groups that emerged to save the cinema have been more transparent than former owners Centre For The Moving Image (CMI) ever were: think of Mark Cousins projecting movie stills with ‘Love Filmhouse’ campaign slogans onto various buildings across Edinburgh like an arthouse bat signal; or Anna Bogutskaya advocating for Filmhouse in The Guardian; or the many grassroots efforts that kept visibility high on an issue that rarely left public view. 

A klaxon-loud sentiment of ‘use it or lose it’ needs to exist at the heart of every community-focused venture, but so should there be an irresistible lure that tempts people away from the city’s well-kept but anodyne cinema chains. Within its revamp, let’s hope that a communication plan is in place that transforms its café-bar and shiny new screens into a living room for the city where all manner of niches can rub shoulders with the mainstream; where the film anoraks can grab a pint with the casuals, and low-budget passion projects can enjoy the same buzz as blockbuster releases. More than simply reopening its doors, the Filmhouse needs to make itself invaluable again.