There’s something undeniably magical about cinema—a magic that streaming platforms and multiplexes just can’t replicate. But here’s where it gets controversial: while the world binge-watches the latest Hollywood blockbusters, Australia’s cinematheques are quietly reigniting a passion for film as an art form, and it’s sparking a cultural renaissance. For over two decades, In the Mood for Love has stood as a testament to cinema’s romantic power, and when Brisbane’s Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA) screened it at their Australian Cinémathèque in late 2025, the response was electric. Two sold-out sessions in the 220-seat theater weren’t enough—a third was hastily added on an off-night, and it nearly filled to capacity. What’s more, it wasn’t just die-hard cinephiles in attendance. Amanda Slack-Smith, the Cinémathèque’s curatorial manager, notes, ‘We saw families spanning generations—parents with their adult children, even bringing their grandchildren.’
Cinematheques, born in 1930s Paris as guardians of celluloid history, champion film as a vital art form. In Australia, the three largest—GOMA’s Cinémathèque, the soon-to-launch Sydney Cinémathèque at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, and Melbourne Cinémathèque at ACMI—are housed in cultural institutions, reinforcing their mission. Smaller venues like Adelaide’s Mercury Cinema, Perth’s Revival House, and the Hobart Film Society (running since 1946) further cement this movement. But what sets them apart in an era of endless streaming? They offer a curated journey through cinema’s past and present, a counterpoint to the algorithmic churn of digital platforms.
‘It’s about discovery,’ Slack-Smith explains, ‘but not in a way that feels academic or forced. We’re like Indiana Jones—we find the gems and bring them to you.’ This approach resonates, especially with younger audiences, who are increasingly seeking out retrospective screenings and indie discoveries. Take Grace Boschetti, a Melbourne Cinémathèque member since 2022, who describes her first visit as ‘transformative.’ She now attends repertory screenings four nights a week, shifting her focus from new releases to cinematic classics. ‘There’s a magic in these films,’ she says, ‘a depth I rarely find in modern releases.’
And this is the part most people miss: Cinematheques aren’t just preserving history—they’re shaping the future of film appreciation. Sydney Cinémathèque, launching in March, aims to engage a younger, more diverse audience, while also training the next generation of film professionals, from critics to projectionists. Ruby Arrowsmith-Todd, its film curator, credits platforms like Letterboxd for fueling this interest, but emphasizes the communal experience of cinema. ‘Watching a film at home,’ Boschetti adds, ‘is never the same as seeing it on the big screen.’
Commercial theaters, focused on box office returns, rarely take such risks. Even with retrospective programming, they prioritize profitability. Cinematheques, however, fill a critical gap—showcasing films in their original formats, like the 35mm screening of In the Mood for Love at GOMA. ‘Audiences notice the difference,’ Slack-Smith says. ‘There’s a real appreciation for the original vision.’
So, here’s a thought-provoking question: In a world dominated by streaming and franchises, do cinematheques represent the last bastion of true cinematic artistry? Or are they simply a niche indulgence? Let us know in the comments—and if you haven’t experienced one yet, maybe it’s time to rediscover the magic of cinema.
