For love of the theatre

I have been sorely lacking in reviews recently, and the only excuse I can make is that I’ve spent all that time sitting in a theater watching The Dark Knight Rises over and over. So, I will try to play catch-up with the movies that I have seen this summer that I feel are worthy of comment. However, I want to devote this post to a description of my favorite theater in Los Angeles, and potentially the world (although I don’t know yet, since I’m still trying to get to all of them) for those who have not been fortunate enough to go to it. One of my favorite things about the movies is the experience of them in public, in a venue that’s sole purpose is the escapist adventure that is movie going. Even if you see a documentary, you escape from your own world to enter someone else’s, and from the moment you buy your ticket and walk through the doors, to when you exit, crawling out of the darkness and into the real world, the experience of movie-going is one of the more valuable entertainments since its inception in the late 19th, early 20th century.

One theater that gets the movie experience incredibly right is the Vista Theatre in Los Feliz, at the apex of the gigantic intersection of Hillhurst, Sunset Blvd., Hollywood Blvd., and Sunset Dr. It is one of the scarier and more confusing intersections that I have experience, but it is well managed, and there is nothing like the confusion of not being quite sure if you are, in fact, turning down the road you meant to. You may, of course, walk to the theater, but it takes approximately 7 minutes to cross the street, since there are only 3 crosswalks that you can use to get there, and with 6 or 7 directions of oncoming traffic, it takes time for the little man to light up, meaning you can finally safely cross to your destination. Of course, you can see the Vista and know its purpose long before you actually stand under the large signboard advertising the film currently playing. Neon green and pink lights advertise the theater, and a thrill runs through you as you recognize this experience as different from the normal multiplex, and somehow linked with past movie-goers and times in a vintage experience. The design and style are obviously older, and you feel you are part of history as you walk up to the entrance. The walk up to the ticket window is lined with handprints from sponsors of the theater, walking up the slight incline to the ticket booth outside the theater reminds you of old black and white movies you have seen. You may or may not have to stand back on the side of the road then, it depends on how popular the movie you are going to see is, and whether or not it’s opening night. The Vista is quite popular.

After the appropriate amount of anticipation has built up, and you feel connected to the other movie-goers somehow even though you all stand in your individual parties. The manager has been talking to patrons dressed as a character from the movie you are about to see (he has been The Phantom, Captain America, Jack Sparrow, Batman, and many more), and finally, he opens the doors about 15 minutes before the movie begins. You hand him your ticket and walk inside, already excited by the intrusion of the fantastical into the everyday through the manager’s costume, and are immediately transported into an even more fantastical experience. The lobby is decorated with faux hieroglyphics painted onto the walls, and palm branches above them. The concession stand is right in front of you, small and prominent, and the lobby is still lined with cardboard cutouts for the latest films. However you have already been blown away from the uniqueness and personality that assail you, so different from the bright lights and blaring screens that adorn so many larger cinemas. Once you have your popcorn, candy, or soda, you head into the theater, and stop short. The walls are lined with Egyptian statues, staring down at the audience through blank eyes. A plush red curtain covers the screen, and to either side, speakers are masked by intricate golden screens with snakes. Large, conic lighting fixtures create a soft lighting scheme, and give the room texture, and there is so much space in the room, aided in appearance by the fact that the walls are not painted black, that you just breath in the room for a minute, taking in the décor, and the music playing from somewhere overhead. As you walk down the aisle to choose a seat, you wonder about the history of the theater, because it looks like it belongs to the group of old theaters that were exotically themed (Egypt, China, and Persia were all popular) to draw in audiences. However, your friend tells you that in fact, The Mummy had their premier here in the 90s, and since the theater had fallen into disrepair, they revamped everything for that. When they asked the owner if he wanted them to take it down after, he said no, and you think it was perhaps the best decision ever.

Choosing seats, the first thing you notice is how much leg-space there is. You can stick your legs straight in front of you, and not come close to hitting the chair in the row ahead. During the movie, patrons will be able to get up and leave without the jostle and whispered apologies that usually accompany theaters trying to cram as many people in as possible, and you have decided already that this is your favorite theater in town for that reason alone. Finally, as the lights dim, and old-fashioned cartoon plays with a catchy song telling the audience, “Let’s all go to the lobby, to get ourselves a treat”. The vintage ad only increases the antique feeling of the experience, and you almost forget what you are seeing as trailers play, and then an announcement to turn off cellphones. These are faded and worn, and the switch to the new movie is something of a shock, but you settle down in the comfy chairs to enjoy it. After the credits roll, and the lights come up, you remember where you are and look around in wonder at the décor of the room as patrons get up to leave. You shuffle up and out into the light, and leave the small lobby behind as you walk, either to your car, parked on one of the streets in the surrounding residential neighborhood (but not the first one, because that one only has 2 hour parking unless you have a permit), or you head off into the evening, the sign lit up and glowing behind you as the theater gets ready to let in its next crowd to be charmed, enchanted and entertained.