Theater Fantasy

When I first moved into the neighborhood, there was a movie theater two blocks from my house which showed cheap, second-run movies, usually with Spanish subtitles. It seemed to be open-and-closed sporadically, but it was great having a theater literally around the corner from my house. It had been closed for a while, when we heard that it had been bought by Fred Erickson, the owner/chef of the hip Fred 62 diner in Los Feliz. He was going to convert it into a restaurant/dinner theater that served good food and showed movies. I was excited by this idea, even though I knew it was probably going to be a pricey place that I could only afford to do once-in-a-while. Then Fred screwed us. He decided not to open the place, and sold it to a church. Not even a normal church, it's some kind of cult, with signs up promising to "end suffering" through "spiritual cleansing" sessions. Basically, someone trying to muscle in on the Scientology racket. They also put one of those ugly-ass metal sliding doors like put over stores within shopping malls over the front door, producing an eyesore for the rapidly gentrificating neighborhood.

Louis C.K. was on HBO's One Night Stand last week, and he said "Rich people don't understand what it's like to be poor. Poor people know what it's like to be rich, because we fantasize about it all the time. Everyone has their rich life all planned out." Well, in my rich life, I buy that fucking theater from the second-rate Scientologists, and put it back to it's original purpose. Only I do it right. Get a liquor license, first of all, and put a tiki bar with a thatched roof and carved tikis and lava lamps in the lobby. Fill the lobby with cool vintage monster movie posters. Paint a mural on the theater ceiling--I'm thinking some sort of parody of the Sistine Chapel, but involving movies. Wednesday through Friday, we show second-run movies for cheap for the college crowd. On Saturday night, a double feature. Some cool combination of classic, off-beat films. We'll make a party out of it: show a double feature of cheerleader-themed movies (Bring it On and But I'm a Cheerleader, or The Cheerleaders and Revenge of the Cheerleaders) and encourage the audience to come dressed in cheerleader garb. Or show Velvet Goldmine and Ziggy Stardust, and everyone comes in full glam-rock regalia. Republican night: come dressed as your favorite Republican, and sip martinis while watching Wall Street and Starship Troopers! How about a tropical luau night, showing Blue Hawaii and Pagan Island and serving luau food. Drink specials on zombies for a double feature of zombie movies. Double features throughout the summer of stuff like Dazed and Confused and Wet Hot American Summer, or Bikini Beach and Back to the Beach, or Do The Right Thing and...I dunno, something. And every Halloween, a big horror movie marathon with costume contests and stuff.

For the Grand Opening, I'd show Beyond the Valley of the Dolls and Switchblade Sisters, but as time went on I'd program more esoteric double-features. Peewee's Big Adventure with The Searchers, Old Boy with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Mean Girls and Battle Royale. But the important thing would be to make going to the movies an event, not something that's taken for granted. Not unlike what the American Cinematheque does, but less serious, and hopefully more profitable. I guess the Alamo in Austin is more-or-less run this way (The Georgia Theater in Athens is vaguely comparable, but they just regard film nights as something to fill the place up when there are no bands, and don't approach it with any kind of respect).

Now I just have to get rich.