Parwana, a 600-seat cinema house in Sialkot Cantt, one of the oldest in town, is a picture of complete desolation. Safdar Khan, a former Lollywood producer, built it in 1972 with the money he earned from his Punjabi films. The cinema house was a roaring success -- until recently.

"In the last few months, our per-day ticket sales have dropped to less than Rs2,000," Khan says, lamentingly, "while our monthly costs -- which include social security, staff salaries, EOBI, electricity bills, diesel fuel [for generators] and Cantonment Board charges --come to the tune of Rs1 million."

As a result, he was forced to slash operations. He says he would have closed shop if it weren’t for the highly expensive digital cinema print (DCP) machine which must be kept in use. Today, Parwana is good only for the one odd show that helps keep the equipment running and in good shape - whether there is an audience or not.

He blames the situation on the absence of Bollywood movies and a lack of commercially-viable local produce.

Nadeem Mandviwala, the owner of two of the country’s most popular multiplexes -- Atrium in Karachi and Centaurus in Islamabad -- is also considering scaling down operations by 50 percent. He calls it ‘a question of survival’.

This will entail reducing the number of shows, in the first phase. "The idea is to check the overheads," he explains. "For instance, if your cinemas are operational for 12 hours, you will need to trim it down to six."

He cites the example of IMAX in Lahore which has reduced the number of its shows on weekdays.

Staff is the next to go. Khorem Gultasab, operations general manager at Super Cinemas, speaks of having laid off "43 percent" of his workers already. Cinepax, by far the largest chain of multiplexes -- with 46 screens at 13 locations, in nine cities -- is also said to have downsized.

That’s the bitter pill every exhibitor will have to swallow, Mandviwala says, matter-of-factly. "Until, of course, the crisis ends!"

The factors to this crisis are many. In late February, cinema business took a huge beating when Bollywood movies were pulled off screens, in response to the Indian artists’ activism against Pakistani talent. (The whole situation had emerged in the wake of the Pulwama attack which brought the two neighbouring countries to the brink of a war. The recent turmoil in Jammu and Kashmir has served as the proverbial ‘last nail in the coffin’.)

Bollywood movies, well-loved by Pakistanis, were long banned on this side of the border. In early 2000s, as local production declined and the mostly poor-quality and kitschy Punjabi films churned out during that period had no takers among family audiences, the cinema industry collapsed. A number of film stars turned to television, and most cinema halls were converted into auto showrooms or venues for night theatre.

It wasn’t until 2007 when Bollywood movies were gradually allowed to be imported -- albeit as "foreign items" -- for commercial screening, propelled by a bunch of business-savvy exhibitors, amidst slogans of film diplomacy, that the public returned to theatres. Investors saw the colour of money in setting up new cinemas, and posh, state-of-the-art halls sprang up like mushrooms. This created a fresh (read multiplex) audience that cared for theatre ambience and quality of services, and also had greater buying power. It also prompted the old-fashioned single screens, mostly located in smaller centres, to upgrade. That’s when Lahore saw a revamped (and rechristened) CineStar in Johar Town; and Shabistan, Prince, and Gulistan on Abbot Road; while Sialkot got Parwana; and Gujrat, Faisal Cinema, to name a few.

Bollywood also became the reason for the so-called revival of Urdu films which obviously benefitted from the footfall.

Only this was about to change -- for the worse. Today, the ban on Bollywood movies has coincided with a dearth of attractive local content. It doesn’t help that the audience for Hollywood/English films is "merely 2 percent" in the words of Gultasab.

The exhibitors’ main grouse is that the few filmmakers who have demonstrated some box-office clout in recent years, plan their movies for the two Eids. "So, what do we show in the remaining months?" he asks.

"It’s about the size of the market. The current count of active screens across Pakistan is 158. Bollywood movies kept the cinemas going all year round; we don’t make enough films to meet the demand. Period."

Gultasab also believes that the producers’ idea of maximising gains by releasing their films on Eid has proved to be counter-productive, as business gets divided inevitably and no one film ends up making a profit. A recent case in point: the three Eid-ul-Azha releases -- Superstar, Parey Hut Love, and Heer Maan Ja -- whose business suffered because they were rolled out simultaneously.

"Currently, the optimum potential of a film’s business is Rs350 million -- that is, if you have 100 percent occupancies at all shows, at all the cinema sites, for an entire week. This means a business of Rs50 million per day," Gultasab adds.

Last year, Ranbir-Kapoor-starrer Sanju proved to be one such profitable venture when it reportedly grossed Rs380 million, at the end of its six-week unchallenged run at the box office. Teefa in Trouble also collected roughly the same amount. And to think that both these films were non-Eid releases.

Another factor contributing to the current crisis of cinema is the rising cost of living. Inflation has broken the back of the consumer, people are financially overburdened, and going to movies is no longer as frequent an excursion/recreation.

Where the cinema owners reduced their overhead charges, correspondingly they jacked up ticket rates. "Entertainment should be affordable for people across all strata of society," remarks Gultasab, "but what we are seeing is an opposite trend; it is becoming more and more expensive."

At his Abbot Road screens (Shabistan and Prince), he says, he has resisted the temptation to raise the ticket prices -- for Hall, it is still Rs250, and for Gallery, Rs300 -- "because the common man from Lakshmi Chowk cannot afford more than that. Also, he can’t pay an extra 300 bucks for caramel popcorn, or nachos. So we don’t offer them these [items]."

Ironically, Gultasab does not intend to renew Super Cinema’s contract with Shabistan and Prince, once it expires in January 2020. "Cinema is no longer a viable business," he argues.

An impending entertainment tax of 20 percent, announced by the Punjab government, is expected to further squeeze the industry. For all practical purposes, it could reach a point where the exhibitors will be forced to fold their businesses.

Work on a number of new screens has already been halted. Pir Saad Ahsanuddin, the owner of Cinepax, is said to have stalled an ambitious nine-screen project. The investors are shying away. They see no return on investment (ROI) in the business. The recently opened Cue cineplex in Lahore does not have all its halls operating.

Most of the multiplexes are housed in shopping malls and plazas. Their rents are exorbitant. Some, like Cinepax, have profit-sharing contracts. "In the current scenario, how do we hope for cinema to survive?" asks Gultasab.

The writer is a staff member