I took the girls to Petaling Street over the weekend, where they’ve transformed the old Rex Cinema into a fancy artsy hub called REXKL.
I’ve always had a soft spot for Rex Cinema. It used to boast hilariously oversized, hand-painted movie posters designed to grab attention (and possibly haunt your dreams– especially when the actors’ proportions were rendered with, shall we say, generous doses of creative liberties). The entrance was a chaotic mess of food stalls and the floors inside were so sticky that every step made that unmistakable, goosebump-inducing squeak. And who could forget the immersive kuaci-cracking surround sound that accompanied every movie?
Rex Cinema was my teenage rebellion HQ. Conveniently located near the Selangor Omnibus terminal, it was surrounded by budget-friendly food and just a short walk from my other haunt– the book rental store in Central Market. I may or may not have “accidentally” ended up at Rex instead of my extra tuition classes after school.
Most importantly, this was where I first experienced DTS sound during Jurassic Park in 1993– a moment so profound that it kickstarted my lifelong descent into the AV rabbit hole. I am still stuck here, condemned to perpetually judging and evaluating every video and audio reproduction that I come across with critical eyes and ear.
So on Sunday, I dragged my daughters along for a dose of my own teen nostalgia. “This place,” I declared with the gravitas of a museum guide, “was instrumental in my development as a person.” Naturally, I left out the part about occasionally skipping class for movies.
The building structure is still intact, but it’s now swarming with hipster establishments— smash burgers that cost more than my entire childhood monthly allowance, an artisanal New York-style pizzeria and a bar serving tuak and kombucha (because of course).
The most impressive transformation is BookXcess, which has turned the old Reserved Class floor upstairs into a 3D maze. We were so caught up climbing and exploring that I completely forgot to browse for books. It’s a great attraction, but I’m not sure about actual book sales– most people seemed more interested in filming Instagram reels and TikTok dances than flipping through pages.
The crown jewel of REXKL, however, is an immersive digital art space called RXP— short for Rex Experience, because apparently slapping “XP” onto anything makes it sound cutting-edge.
We bought family tickets, expecting to be blown away. Picture 270° projection screens covering the walls and floor, paired with a 360° soundscape, all enjoyed from the comfort of slightly small-ish bean bags and cushioned benches. My eldest daughter, ever the diplomat, called it “interesting”– which, in kid-speak, translates to “I’d rather be scrolling TikTok but I see you’re trying, Dad.”
As for me? Some RXP pieces were mesmerizing, others felt like watching an extremely fancy screensaver on an extremely large screen.
After the show, we treated ourselves to fresh strawberry froyo– tired, slightly dizzy from the trippy visuals, but still laughing about our experience.
The grainy film, sticky floors and hawker stalls may be gone, replaced by digital projections, hip retail spaces and artisanal kombucha. But what struck me most was the absurdity of it all– back in my day, a trip to Rex was my escape from the real world into a make-believe one filled with dinosaurs, spaceships and overly dramatic kung fu sound effects.
Now, decades later, I was dragging my daughters here, hoping to pull them out of their own make-believe worlds– the endless scroll of TikTok, virtual meet-ups in Genshin Impact and whatever bizarre online trend is currently in vogue– into spending time with us in the real, physical world.
Poetic irony at its finest. Or just another sign I’ve become old.