ColumnsThe Empty Barrel
Amo Hovan and the Red Cinema
Sitting in his reclining chair with a checkered sleeveless sweater and a white mustache that practically spells out “quintessential Armenian dede,” Amo Hovan calmly greets me, “Ahlein Kegham.” Television remotes are studiously stationed on the adjacent coffee table. To his left, there’s a wide spanning brown cupboard with framed pictures of family and a collection of VCR and DVD recordings, ranging from the 1953 biblical epic The Robe to Sylvester Stallone’s Rambo: First Blood.
“Inchbes filmuh ge hedtseneyir?”
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Thank you Kegham and Hovhaness for bringing old memories of my childhood, The Sunday afternoon trip to the movies was our greatest joy. Often a group of Eight or Ten of us will gather at the entrance of the Convent and go as a group. Hovan or other Armenian employees would let us in first to avoid the shoving and pushing at the entrance door of the theater. We sometimes ventured to attend the late afternoon shows, and climb the different water pipes to get back into the convent.