Going to the drive-in.

Growing up in white middle-class South Africa, one cherished cultural hallmark of my teenage years was the drive-in theater. This is an outdoor venue with a large projection screen and a parking area, that allowed movie-goers to enjoy the latest films from the comfort of their own car. Unlike traditional indoor cinemas, the drive-in's projection building often housed a take-away restaurant, offering not just the standard snacks like popcorn and cold-drinks, but also cooked meals such as hamburgers.

Thanks to the South Africa’s temperate climate and the small variation in sunset times between seasons, drive-ins were a popular year-round entertainment option. With an admission fee charged per vehicle rather than per individual, drive-ins were a magnet for large families and groups of friends on a budget.

The drive-in's parking layout was designed so that each bay was slightly inclined at the front, ensuring an unobstructed view of the screen from the car's windshield. Those arriving in a pickup truck, or 'bakkie' as they're affectionately called locally, had the option to reverse into their space and settle into the back for an open-air cinematic experience.

In the old days, each parking spot at a drive-in theater was equipped with a detachable speaker on a pole. Drivers could hook this speaker onto their car window to hear the film's soundtrack. On particularly pleasant evenings, movie-goers often enjoyed a picnic on the lawn and playgrounds in front of the concession stand and projection booth.

Drive-ins typically offered a double feature, with two movies screened back-to-back, with a half-hour intermission - enough time for patrons to stretch their legs, grab a bite to eat, and for the projectionist to swap out the reels.

As technology evolved, the speaker on a pole was phased out in favor of FM radio transmission. Movie-goers would instead tune their car radios to a designated frequency ot hear the sound in stereo.

For young couples, the drive-in movie experience was particularly fun. If the film was crap, it was the perfect opportunity to engage in alternative amusements or conversation, without the fear of interrupting fellow movie-goers. And for those inclined, smoking was a hassle-free affair.

At the height of their popularity in the early 1990s, the Johannesburg area boasted no fewer than six drive-in theaters. 

Perhaps the most legendary among them was the Top Star Drive-In, perched atop an old mine dump. These mine dumps, remnants of Johannesburg's gold rush legacy, once punctuated the cityscape, marking the spots where fortunes were feverishly excavated. As mining operations ceased or relocated, the city expanded, enveloping these historic mounds.

One mine dump known as Ferreiras, situated on the fringes of the city center, was the subject of much speculation regarding its potential uses. Ultimately, inspired by the American trend that had begun as early as 1933, a developer built this icon of outdoor cinema - the Top Star Drive-In.


The once-thriving Top Star Drive-In fell victim to the inevitable march of urban decay, among other factors, and closed its gates for the last time in in 2002. Subsequently, mining companies, leveraging advances in technology, devised methods to extract trace amounts of gold still lingering in these historic mine dumps. The tailings, dating back to pre-1900s when gold extraction techniques were less sophisticated, contained untapped value. In 2006, efforts commenced to remove Top Star, transporting the tailings via pipelines to a vast mine dump located well outside the city, where land cheap and less densely populated. The gold reclaimed from Top Star alone reportedly fetched around €40 million.

My earliest recollection of a drive-in movie was seeing Zulu Dawn, starring Peter O'Toole and Burt Lancaster. I must have been 6 at the time but cannot remember exactly. However, the first film I definitely recall seeing at a drive-in - specifically at the iconic Top Star - was the 1989 South African candid camera comedy You Must be Joking, featuring the beloved local comedian Leon Schuster. One of the reasons why we went to see this film in particular, was that my aunt unknowingly made a 3-second appearance in the one scene (see this snippet at 01:10).

The combination of rising crime rates and the convenience of home entertainment contributed to the gradual decline of all drive-in theatres across South Africa. While there was a brief resurgence during the COVID-19 pandemic, it appears that the drive-in experience has since faded into memory.

The cultural impact of drive-in theatres was so profound that it inspired local artist Jeremy Taylor to record a hit song called Ag Pleez Deddy (listen to the song here - he explains the back story in this video).

For many working-class white South Africans, drive-ins were more than just places to watch films; they were vibrant social hubs for young folk like me and a testament to the collective experiences of people who grew up in that era.

While researching this, to my surprise I found out that at least one drive-in is still on the go, right here in Hessen. The Autokino Gravenbruch near Neu-Isenburg attracts visitors daily with the latest movies  - albeit dubbed into German.