HOYTS Tea Tree Plaza — Attraction in Adelaide

This was the first time I walked out of a public restroom feeling like I’d just survived a toxic waste spill… but without so much as a hazardous materials suit. I was pretty sure I was now radioactive.

The second I crossed the threshold, my nostrils were assaulted by a smell so foul, it could’ve been bottled and sold as a weapon of mass destruction. Fermented urine. It was like someone had taken the essence of urine, let it marinate for a decade, and then brewed it into a scent that could strip paint off the walls. Imagine if a gym locker, a spilled beer, and a forgotten sandwich left out in the sun for too long had a child… and that child became a scent. That was what was greeting me. It wasn’t just a smell; it was an experience. It felt like it was trying to make me regret every decision I’d ever made up until that moment. My nose hairs didn’t just recoil; they filed for early retirement and moved to a warmer climate.

The floor? Don’t even get me started. It wasn’t just a floor — it was an emotional support swamp. The grout had absorbed so much questionable history over the years that it felt like it had developed its own personality. If the floor could talk, it would’ve said, “Yeah, mate, you’re not leaving here without a piece of me. You’ll remember me forever.”

And there, sitting smugly outside, was the cleaning trolley — looking like some kind of false prophet. “Look!” it seemed to say, “We’re prepared! We’ve got a cleaning trolley, we’re sorted!” But nah, the trolley was an illusion. A facade. It wasn’t cleaning anything. In fact, I’m not even sure it had ever cleaned anything in its entire existence. It was like a bad joke that just sat there, taunting me. The trolley was the physical embodiment of the “everything’s fine” meme. Like a “Mission Accomplished” banner in a disaster zone that no one in their right mind would ever trust.

I stumbled over to the soap dispenser, desperate to cleanse myself from the nightmare fuel I’d just entered. I tried to rub it into my hands, but it felt like I was trying to summon a genie and the genie was like, “Nah, mate, not today.” This soap wasn’t saving me; it was just reminding me that nobody escapes this cursed place. I then turned to the tap…The handle sat there, taunting me, like it had a hidden agenda. I quickly pushed the push-button tap to try and eliminate any further exposure to the toxins lurking on that handle. It wasn’t so much a calculated decision as it was pure survival instinct. My heart was racing as I tried to avoid whatever dark forces were at play in that bathroom.

Then came the hand dryer. Ohhh, the hand dryer. It looked like it had been abandoned in a dark corner of the bathroom, forgotten by time and probably any sense of hygiene. The stains on it weren’t just stains — they were like relics, ancient marks of unspeakable origins. They glowed faintly in the dim light, like they were trying to communicate with me, but I didn’t want to know the secrets they held. I stood there for a moment, considering if using it would give me superpowers or turn me into a mutant. In the end, I decided it was probably best not to risk it and wiped my hands on my pants like a reasonable human being, because let’s face it — no one walks away clean from this nightmare.

By the time I left, my only wish was to erase the memory of everything I’d just endured. But as I looked at the exit, I realised there was no escape. The horror had followed me out. The soles of my shoes, now forever tainted, were basically collecting souvenirs from the filthiest place on Earth. Hoyts really needs to step it up. I’m talking full decontamination zones with UV lights, a disinfectant moat, and perhaps a judge to pass sentence on anyone daring to enter. Maybe even a 24/7 support hotline for emotional trauma.

Honestly, this bathroom experience deserved its own disclaimer: “Enter at your own risk. Everything that happens inside stays inside... including...

It's a little bit weird walking into a cinema and feeling like you could just keep walking straight through without needing a ticket🙈

The Electric Leather Recliners are amazing, the ticket prices range from very affordable to the ol' 🕳💩👁💦 💰💲💸💲💸💲💰 depending on what session/screen size/experience type your looking for.

You could genuinely purchase your ticket and walk into your cinema without the need for human contact during an off-peak time.

Snack selection is varied and nutritional info is decently posted but as has been the case for years now is horrendously over priced.

If you wanted to purchase snacks you could do that with a minimum of interaction by purchasing through the app and collecting it from a pick up point presumably by showing your phone without uttering a single word.

So while all in all it is certainly a better experience than the flicks have been in MANY years & better value as well, the general feeling or ambience is that of a well oiled machine or a futuristic entertainment complex which is not quite dystopian but almost like one found in a world of growing disinterest and dropping population.

P.S The bays (alcoves) the lids for the self serve soft drinks are kept in are absolutely filthy....

The New Luxe is Amazing. Since the revamp this Hoyts is our favourite place to watch a movie. Electric seating is a dream.

The Lux cinema has wireless charging, USB ports, extra adjustable seating and on call service.

The food in lux is amazing! Amazing, but pricey and a little too much if you want entree, main and desert (we tried though!). The churros are ridiculously good and the entree fish and chicken are amazing. Menu was created my Manu and we love it. I loved the vegan and vegetarian options as well.

I cannot rave enough about the friendly staff. This is exactly the level of service I want. You can’t be too friendly. Do not ever change this standard please.

The timing of our meals were a little messed up and we were really hungry then super full right at the end. I didn’t mind, but it’s something to note. The quality of alcohol was excellent and served right to us any time we wanted.

I would suggest to Hoyts to put little tables and more couches in the second waiting room. It was a little strange seeing all these people sitting on chairs and we really wanted somewhere to put our...