1957 The Hague, the Netherlands. Fenne Mulder

The Bridge on the River Kwai

Hans Verhoeff (grandfather)

1942

The Hague (Den Haag) , The Netherlands

Interviewed on Friday, February 7th

Fenne Mulder

For this paper I interviewed my grandpa, Hans Verhoeff, he is was born in 1942, and lived in Den Haag his whole live, the capital city of the Netherlands.

The first movie I truly remember seeing is The Bridge on the River Kwai. I was fourteen years old, and I went with my father, the only time we ever went to the cinema together. It was in 1957  in The Hague, at the elegant Metropole Tuschinski, near the palace. Today, an apartment complex stands in its place, but back then, it was a magnificent theater with luxurious seats, a balcony, and ushers who guided people to their places. The balconies were more expensive, and there was a rather big price difference between the different seats. There was always a lady as I remember who would walk you towards your seat. The sound was magnificent for a cinema during that time, so after the war, when the economy started to get better.

My father was always busy, so it was special that I managed to convince him to go. That is why I remember it so vividly, he was always so busy, and this was something I was going to do just with him, for once. It is a really emotional experience for me. We drove there in about twenty minutes, and when we arrived, there was already a long queue outside. The film had an excellent reputation, and the theater was packed. It felt like a real event. Tickets were cheaper during the daytime, but this was a Saturday evening, so we paid full price; my father was always a bit greedy. Now even when I think of the movie I think of my father.

The movie left a deep impression on me, not just because of the story, but because of the emotional significance it later took on. It followed British prisoners of war forced to build a bridge over the River Kwai for the Japanese during World War II. The bridge was crucial for the Japanese, but the prisoners secretly sabotaged it by slightly sawing through the wooden beams. One scene in particular stood out to me, where the prisoners, exhausted and suffering in the scorching sun, were locked in an iron cage but still found the strength to sing. That moment gave them hope, and somehow, it gave me hope too. After the movie, when I got home from school and I would put the song on, he would get emotional, I never asked him why.

I admired the main character for his courage, his resilience, and his refusal to let the enemy break his spirit. The story was powerful, the plot masterfully structured, and it felt even more real because it was based on true events. During the war, Dutch and American prisoners were also forced to work on the railway in the East. In fact, one of my father’s friends had been there himself, during the Japanese war, which made the film feel even more personal.

During the intermission, I snuck outside to smoke a cigarette, a small act of rebellion that made the night feel even more thrilling. At that age, it felt daring and grown-up, something that added a bit of adventure to an already memorable evening. The film was rather long than other films, almost 3 hours. So, I really needed a cigarette droning the intermission.

The food in the cinemas was not quite the same as it is now, they would have only a few options, perhaps just a coffee or, on special occasions, a Mars bar.  I remember that when I grow older, and was studying in Rotterdam, a city 20 minutes from Den Haag, we would go more often, and there were more food options than when I was just a little boy. But me and my friends would just get a couple of beers. It really was a event to go to the theatre.

The cinemas of that time were starting to become prettier and well decorated, It really was an adventure to go to the movies. Films weren’t as long, and intermissions gave you a chance to stretch your legs, chat, or step outside for a moment. Concessions were simple no popcorn machines or flashy options, just the basics. And yet, the simplicity made the experience feel more focused on the film itself. The time back then was different, popcorn and all the candy, there wasn’t as much demand for.

What has stayed with me the most over the years, however, is the iconic tune from The Bridge on the River Kwai. The soldiers in the movie whistled it as a symbol of their resilience, and after we watched the film, my father brought it home with him. He would often whistle that tune around the house, and even during difficult times, it would lift up his spirit. Even when I hear it now it makes me emotional, it reminds me of that time with my father, one of the only times I really had with him, alone.

That night at the cinema became more than just a memory of a film. It was a rare moment of connection with my father, one that felt special and irreplaceable. Sitting beside him in that grand theater, hearing him hum that melody later at home, it was a bond forged not just by the story on screen but by the emotions it stirred in us. It’s a memory I will always carry, a reminder of the small but significant moments that shape our lives.