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But when new cinemas started showing the same stuff — with comfier seats, better popcorn and smarter decor — Yangtze played a different hand. Art-house sauce from Hong Kong, Japan and Korea was gently introduced at first, became popular, and then that’s all they showed.

The punters kept coming, and the idea that men could relieve themselves while watching risqué content was quietly tolerated by the powers that be.

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Meanwhile, concern from parents and religious groups about porn polluting Singaporean minds, and a squeeze on sexual content by regulators, have made Yangtze stick out like an erection in a convent. We don’t seem to be able to acknowledge the older, unseen sides to Singapore. ” says Fiona Bartholomeusz, who runs her own ad agency. I can’t believe that anyone would go to a cinema to beat one out. Maybe they’d come because they’ve heard the film is critically acclaimed. I wonder if that happens a lot in this cinema, and what the code of conduct is. I didn’t notice anything on the notice board outside, which just said KEEP CLEAN. The look on the man’s face was worth the entrance fee.

But it’s hard to prepare anyone for the Yangtze experience. The sort of place that might prompt Wong Kar Wai (or possibly David Lynch) to whip his camera out. An in-between place that seems out of reach to the modern world drifting by outside, oblivious.

The lobby where the ticket desk is feels like the loser’s lounge in a casino. Every 20 minutes or so, a lady old enough to be my mother came to sit next to me while I was singing (‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis — really butchering it) and rubbed my thigh for five minutes before fluttering off to do something similar next door. A friend told me he once smoked a joint in one of the KTV rooms here. It belongs to another generation, many of whom are sat around on their own. Like the rest of this grand old arena of sleaze, it is a sad sort of place.

Paying to sit in a room where men are jerking off really is as unappealing as it sounds. His picture is the biggest of the collage, on the left.

And it’s hard to think how the Yangtze’s R-rated fodder, which seems like watching Mary Poppins compared to what’s on the Internet, could be a sustainable business model. This writer has a fairly open mind after 10 years in Asia. Sat like remote islands drinking coffee in silence. Out the back of the building is your familiar KTV fare, a network of deep red caves with the ambience of a smoker’s lung.

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