Getting back to the roots of mergemovies tomorrow with Part I of a five-part series featuring movie theaters in the Cincinnati, Ohio area (a fellow blogger over at Our Medium was kind enough to indulge my movie theater exploration habit while I was in town).  Before I launch into a look at some truly amazing vintage Ohio movie theaters, I wanted to quickly touch on something that had laid dormant in the back of my mind until a recent Slashfilm and JoBlo posting made me ponder the issue once more.

The conundrum at hand: What is the future of movie theaters, especially those in the Midwest? Part of the purpose of this blog is to attempt to answer that question and today’s post is just a scratch on the surface of the issue.

Russ Fisher’s Slashfilm post examines The New Beverly Cinema, a movie theater in Los Angeles that would have closed in 2007, had it not been for the financial support of Quentin Tarantino.  Fisher notes a handful of other repertory/revival  theaters–including the Brattle in Camridge, Massachusetts–that have undergone financial struggles over the past few years.  The Midwest has a great cinema culture–a unique mix of everything from backyard screenings, festivals and vintage neighborhood theaters to college lecture halls, multiplexes and IMAX theaters,  but the reality is (especially in the Midwest where the cinema culture is not as ingrained into society as, say, California), there are just not enough Quentin Tarantinos to go around.

There is no question the rise of television, followed by the rise of VHS, DVD and now Netflix has taken much out importance and necessity of actually going to the theater.  But the “crisis” facing movie theaters (not to mention video stores, opera houses and symphony orchestras) is also a generational issue.  I try to watch movies at a theater whenever possible.  I am lucky to live in the Detroit area where (surprisingly to some) there are so many quality cinema venues.  The Redford Theatre shows the classics.  The Detroit Film Theatre is known worldwide for its top-notch foreign films.  Even the new kid on the street, The Burton Theatre, has attracted local and national buzz (see The New York Times – Detroit Entrepreneurs Opt to Look Up) with its mix of forgotten, foreign, cult and independent film.  The problem–and the exception here is the Burton Theatre–is the demographics, specifically the age, of people actually watching the movies.  There is nothing wrong with an “older” crowd attending these films, but as I sit in theaters that have been screening motion pictures since the 1920s, I sometimes catch myself wondering if these places will be open when I reach the golden years.  As generations of kids grow up streaming Netflix from their X-Boxes or watching television on Hulu, how many will venture beyond the confines of their room to even walk down the street to the local neighborhood movie theater?

Multiplexes are banking on 3-D to bring in the masses, but what about the theater that seeks to educate people about the huge variety of film that exists or simply show an old flick?  Children’s shows and family-oriented movies are a couple ways that theaters try to attract kids (example: the My Fair Lady Sing-A-Long at the Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor on February 28).  A new program by the Detroit Symphony Orchestra also provides a possible model that cinematheques could use to attract the younger generation.  The DSO 37/11 program allows anyone under the age of 37 to purchase tickets a week in advance to select shows for only $11.  People that enroll in the program can purchase up to two tickets for the special price and are given best available seating.  I know the profit margin for movie theaters can sometimes be tight, but a discounted ticket program or some special treatment to the younger folk might keep them coming back, even after the discount ends.  In other words, if you start someone on a movie-watching tradition at a theater every Friday night, they will keep coming back–even after their discount is up.

The next five posts, each one examining a different theater in the Cincinnati area, will provide a good look at what has been happening to theaters over the past few years in the Midwest and what they are doing to keep their doors open to the public (even if it means not showing films).  Check back tomorrow for Part I.

Oh, and if you are interested in movie theaters and have the cash of Quentin Tarantino, I have a nice fixer-upper for you on Michigan Avenue in Detroit: The Senate Theater.

At 11:30 a.m. on a Sunday, five weeks after Avatar’s initial release, I sat in a sold out IMAX theater (AMC Livonia 20) waiting for the movie to begin.  This was my second time watching the film and the excitement of the audience was no less palpable than it had been opening weekend.  One thing was certain: the controversy surrounding the movie has in no way deterred people from heading out to theaters in droves to catch this 3-D spectacle.

Many people have asked me if I liked the movie, to which I have replied with an unequivocal “yes.”  The more interesting question, however, is WHY I liked the movie, something that I believe sheds light not only on the popularity of James Cameron’s epic, but the larger question of why people like the movies they do.

One of my favorite aspects of watching movies is that fact that everyone takes something different away from the experience.  If two people go into a movie theater and watch the same film, regardless of  similarities they might share in their taste for movies, they will come out with different opinions.  Sure, they might both like the film, but the degree to which they like certain elements–characters, story, cinematography, lighting, sound, etc.–is determined by a number of factors.  Everything from how hungry a person is to their emotional state can play a part in their enjoyment of a film.  The element I want to concentrate on and what I believe is the factor that dominates all others during the moviegoing experience is something I call Background Influence.

Two concepts combine to create Background Influence:

1.) The culmination of an individual’s movie watching history up to a certain point in time (the point in time usually referring to the movie they are about to watch), with more weight given to films watched during the early years of one’s life.

2.) How an individual actually watches the movies that comprise their viewing history.

To demonstrate just what Background Influence really means and to show how it has an effect on a person, I will use my own moviegoing experience as an example.  Movie watching in my younger years was spent on classic Disney films, ranging from Fantasia to Dumbo.  One film in particular though stood out–The Great Mouse Detective.  Although almost every Disney movie has its dark moments, the rainy, dismal streets of London in The Great Mouse Detective, seemed even more sinister and a great deal more brooding than anything my young self had ever encountered.  As I look back on it today, this film was the precursor for my interest in dark, post-apocalyptic films that are so popular today (see Children of Men and 28 Days Later for the best examples of this genre).  It may seem strange or far-fetched  to pin my enjoyment of this genre of films on a classic Disney movie, but the tone of the movie and especially the colors–even with an animated style–share quite a bit in common with its more modern brethren.

From the Great Mouse Detective to Children of Men: Background Influence at Work

As I moved on from Disney movies, I discovered a new, exciting genre–the space epic.  Spending Saturday afternoons watching Sci Fi Channel Star Wars marathons with my dad and brother  is one of my first and most memorable movie experiences.  I remember getting chills down my spine the first time I watched the movie and having those same chills return when I saw it for the first time in theaters during the “Special Edition” re-releases.  The classic good vs. evil struggle, sense of adventure, worlds that are both familiar and exotic, epic scope and powerful score set the bar for how I judged movies for years to come.

Thus, as I sat waiting for Avatar to start, the first part of Background Influence came into play.  Every movie I had ever watched was about to have a significant impact on my enjoyment of James Cameron’s epic, especially those that I watched in my younger years.  In others words, I was predisposed to like Avatar–it shares many elements with the grand, epic films I had been watching thoughout my life, Star Wars being the precursor to the films that comprise my personal movie history.  This isn’t  to say that one’s taste in film cannot change–mine certainly has.  College and post-college life has changed my taste in movies significantly and I have branched out to films all over the cinema spectrum.  The reason for this and another factor in my enjoyment of Avatar is where the second part of Background Influence comes into play.

How an individual watches the movies that comprise their viewing history is an essential part in determining if a person will ultimately like a film.  The cinephile that lives next to a movie theater is going to have a different view of movies than someone who makes it to the theater once every couple of months.  The year before I started high school, I moved up to the Upper Peninsula (U.P.) of Michigan.  Although I enjoyed the stunning natural beauty that the U.P. offered, the move presented a problem for the budding movie enthusiast in me.  The nearest movie theater–Varsity Cinemas in Sault Ste. Marie–was an hour drive.  Mind you, this was before Netflix came onto the scene and even the local video store (i.e. gas station) didn’t have much that my entire family could agree on (we have notoriously different tastes).  After the move to “da UP,” movie watching became an event, something I looked forward to during the week.  Going to “The Soo” (as Sault Ste. Marie is known to the locals) was an all-day affair and included shopping, going out to eat and, at long last, watching a movie in a theater.  There was nothing casual about going to movies during this period in my life, and the choice of a film was an important, almost excruciating decision to make.  An arthouse venue, Varsity Cinemas was not, but that is to be expected considering it is one of only a handful of multiple-screen theaters in the U.P.  Sporting ten screens, with each movie shown 1-2 times on a weekday and 3-4 times on the weekend, Varsity Cinemas offered what you would expect from a typical chain theater–new films playing a few weeks before giving their spot up to the next round of new releases.  This type of movie theater, combined with the driving distance, unpredictable winter weather and the culture of the U.P., lent itself to the type of film you might expect–the big budget, epic, blockbuster-style movie that is so prevalent during the summer months.

The availability of a weekly film program on campus (Wells Hall is the best kept secret in the Lansing area–movies are only $2 for non-students) and two large movie theaters (NCG and Celebration in Lansing) expanded my gusto for films while in college, but I still attended the big-budget Hollywood extravaganzas with no less excitement than before (albeit with a more critical eye–something like Ridley Scott’s underrated follow up to Gladiator, Kingdom of Heaven, was more likely to stir my interest than Oliver Stone’s forgettable Alexander).  College is where I really started to appreciate film and had the resources available to explore different genres and directors.  My interest in film continued to grow after college when I discovered the astonishingly beautiful and well-preserved theaters in the Detroit area.  Cinematheques like the Redford Theatre, Detroit Film Theatre and even the new Burton Theatre have changed my taste in cinema so completely that even I have a hard time believing it.  Looking at my top films of 2009, I now realize that only a handful–Avatar, The International, The Hangover and possibly Whatever Works–could really be considered mainstream.  With that said, I am still the first to watch (and re-watch) a good blockbuster when it comes out.  I watched the latest James Bond adventure, Quantum of Solace, at a midnight screening, saw Avatar opening night and plan to see the next big 2010 release–Clash of the Titans–the minute it is released to the multiplexes.

What, then, does this all mean?  It means that even though my taste in movies has undergone a massive transformation over the past few years, my love of big event, epic, Star Wars-style movies still remains strong, thanks in part to the second part of Background Influence.  Whether it is walking a block to the local one-screen independent theater, driving to the nearest cineplex or just simply watching movies on TV, how an individual watches movies throughout their life is an essential part in determining their overall enjoyment of a particular film.

To sum it up (and kudos to anyone that has made it this far in the post): I liked Avatar because somewhere deep inside of me was ingrained a love for big budget action pictures.  The films I watched when I was young, combined with a variety of other environmental factors (i.e. the distance, length of time between watching movies in a theater, etc.) create a sort of heightened moviegoing experience, one in which the concept of Background Influence adds to the already high level of excitement surrounding a film like Avatar.

My Commentary on Avatar

Quite honestly, I feel the argument over Avatar as political or social commentary is inane.  It doesn’t really tell us anything that we didn’t know (humans are destroying the environment, war is bad, white people still feel guilty about horrible things they did over the course of human history, everyone roots for the underdog) and when it does give the viewer a message, it bludgeons them with it.  In my (very limited) experience, unless a film is a non-fiction documentary, subtly is often the best way to convey commentary on a subject (example: George Romero’s 1968 film Night of the Living Dead ).  With that said, Avatar is the pinnacle of cinematic eye candy and deserves much of the acclaim it receives because of this fact.  No other film has turned attention to 3-D technology the way Avatar has.

I will leave you with this:  Even though I put Avatar on my list of favorite films of 2009 and consider it an extremely important film, it is NOT the best film of the year.  When I watched Avatar for the first time, I was astonished by the beauty of the world the filmmakers were able to create.  The vibrant colors, seamless use of 3-D and James Horner’s fitting score, made it truly an experience for the senses.  The second time I watched the film, my brain kicked in.  I still enjoyed the sights and sounds, but I was also able to concentrate on the dialogue and more closely examine elements of the story.  The plot–a “classic” David vs. Goliath showdown between the Na’vi and the humans–does borrow liberally from other stories (Dances With Wolves, Pocahontas and…dont laugh…FernGully), but it is the shaky (and sometimes clichéd) dialogue that keeps it from reaching “Film of the Year” status.  In the post-Return of the King Oscar era, the only blockbuster that had the elements necessary to win Best Picture–and was ultimately snubbed–was The Dark Knight.  Here was a movie that had a tight script, epic story, great music and an actor (Heath Ledger) that carried the film, as opposed to Avatar, where many times (the exception being Sigourney Weaver) the film carried the actors.  Slumdog Millionare deserved to win the Oscar for Best Picture in 2009, but had The Dark Knight been on a Avatar-like release schedule (building up hype before awards season), we might be examining this year under a different light.

For an interesting compilation of themes in Avatar, be sure and check out this New York Times article: http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/12/22/opening-pandoras-box-the-arguments-over-avatar

The following is a brief film analysis of the opening montage found in Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now.  I say “brief” because this is a film so rich in content and style that a person could spend days pouring through the details and making new discoveries.  Take this as “first glance” analysis of how the creative decisions of the filmmakers relate to the content of the film.  Although I have seen the film multiple times, I have yet to see it on the big screen (hint hint Redford or Detroit Film Theatre).  The $125 price tag at Ebertfest 2010 (which includes 12 films) might be worth it simply for the 70mm screening of Apocalypse Now Redux.

The opening montage of Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now is an almost overwhelming blend of sound, music and visuals.  From the selection of music and the blend of editing to the color and the imagery, the film is a tapestry upon which the filmmakers paint a dark journey into the jungle of Vietnam and the souls of two men—Captain Benjamin L. Willard and Colonel Walter E. Kurtz.

The film starts—appropriately—in total darkness, something that is one of the many circular aspects within the montage.  The characters in the film journey towards an increasingly dark place (visually and spiritually), so it is fitting the filmmakers would choose a black screen for the opening scene.  As the viewer stares into the darkness, a “wooshing” sound is heard, traveling from left to the right.  The tree line of a jungle emerges from the darkness and a yellowish gas (or dust) is kicked up into the air.  These new visuals help to establish the rotor blades of a helicopter as the origin of the sound and as the dust rises, a guitar starts to play.  For a few seconds, we sit, waiting for something to happen.  Then suddenly, the tree line ignites in a brilliant ball of fire as Jim Morrison’s voice proclaims “this is the end.”

It is important to note that the sound throughout the opening montage is almost entirely non-diegetic and features only sound effects and music.  There is no dialogue for the viewer to concentrate on, something that makes the sound and imagery during this early mélange of scenes that much more prominent.  The sound heard in the opening montage of Apocalypse Now can be broken down into two parts.  The first—which is non-diegetic—is the soundtrack that provides the background music.  The Doors “The End” begins with the fireball in the jungle and eventually fades out towards the end of the montage, never actually finishing the song.  The style of the music evokes the Vietnam era and the lyrics fit perfectly with the content of the film, almost foreshadowing what is to come.  For instance, the line of the song that starts “Desperately in need of some strangers hand/In a desperate land” seems to signify the people they will meet and receive help from on their journey through the jungle.  This is especially true of the redux version Apocalypse Now in which Captain Willard encounters a French family still living near the Vietnam/Cambodia border.  Other lines like “All the children are insane/Waiting for the summer rain” point to information viewers will soon gain about Colonel Kurtz.  The word “insane” is used by the top Army officials to describe his mental state and is used by Willard on his journey up river, as well as when he is interrogated by Kurtz later in the film.  The “summer rain” line that follows is also fitting since the rain is one of many things the crew battles on their journey.

The point at which the music starts and the jungle bursts into flame is where the montage changes from something the viewers are merely watching to something that challenges them to make sense of what they are seeing as it grows more and more complex.  As the jungle burns and the smoke thickens, Willard’s face appears (upside down) on the left side of the screen, a close-up shot blended with the jungle in the background.  His eyes are open at first and as helicopters fly by, he blinks.  For a few moments, this image is stagnant before the right side of the screen gives way to a ceiling fan turning like a helicopter blade.  This is where the second part of the montage’s sound comes into play.  The helicopter rotor that the audience hears turning seems at first to be internal diegetic sound (only in the mind of Captain Willard), but as the montage reaches its end, we see that there is indeed a helicopter outside his window in Saigon, putting the sound effect into the category of external diegetic (can be heard by all characters).

Following the appearance of Willard’s face into the montage, the overall image on the screen becomes even more complex.  At one point, Willard’s face, the fan, the jungle and multiple helicopters are all visible at once before fading into a black screen.  The trees in the jungle then become silhouettes against a fiery orange glow of the burning jungle.  The purpose for this change in color is twofold.  First, the move to a black background symbolizes Willard’s mind spiraling into darkness (he drunkenly punches a mirror soon after the montage) and the journey that is to come.  Second, the change in color signifies the move from day to night, allowing the filmmaker to provide the notion of time passing to viewers.  The idea that a significant amount of time had passed during the montage is reinforced later by Willard when he narrates, “I’m here a week now…waiting for a mission…getting softer.”

The montage then divides into thirds, Captain Willard’s face on the left, the jungle in the middle and a new image, that of an ancient rock face, on the right.  The scene is very symmetrical—Willard’s eyes are still on the bottom, while the rock face has eyes on the top as if they were looking out over the audience.  Aside from bringing an aura of mysticism and the unknown to the scene, the rock face also continues the theme of circular elements throughout the film.  This face is a direct prelude to scenes at the end of the film where the same image can be seen following the events at Kurtz’s Cambodia camp.  By using these images, the filmmakers do more than simply pique the curiosity of viewers—they provide a sense of completion and of going full circle on this long journey into darkness.

Towards the end of the montage, the shot pans across a bedside table, where letters and a picture of a woman lie next to an immobile Willard.  This shot in particular helps ground the viewer and confirms Willard’s actual location throughout the course of the montage.  This short glimpse at his personal effects also gives the audience a small amount of back story, something that is especially valuable in a montage with no dialogue.  It is also important to note that throughout the montage, even as layers change, one element always remains constant—the jungle.  This visual representation of not being able to escape the jungle is summed up shortly after the montage when Captain Willard says, “When I was here I wanted to be there.  When I was there, all I could think of was getting back into the jungle.”

Running roughly four minutes, the beginning montage of Apocalypse Now uses multiple visual layers, sound effects and music not only to set a mood, but to prepare the viewers for a journey—both literally and figuratively—into the heart of darkness.

Discovering the Redford

Last fall, I found myself crammed into Emagine Novi with 200 high school football players waiting for Dennis Quaid to introduce his latest film, The Express.  The cologne-induced daze I had slipped into was interrupted by the faint voice of an elderly gentleman sitting next to me.  “So you like going to the movies eh?” he said, reading me like a book.  We sat there and talked movies, which inevitably led to movie theaters.  “What’s your favorite theater around here,” I said, probing for any hidden knowledge his years could bestow upon me.  “Hands down, without a doubt, the Redford” he said matter-of-factly.  Since the day of this elderly stranger’s recommendation, I have been to the historic Redford Theatre a handful of times—once to see the superb 1944 film noir Laura, another time for a behind-the-scenes look during its open house and, more recently, an evening this past August.

That evening was like stepping back in time.

No longer was I in Detroit on a rainy summer evening, but New York on a cold winter night.  Gone was the humidity, replaced instead by a faint smattering of snow.  My ears were met by excited chatter and a piano tune I couldn’t quite place.  I entered the lobby, ticket in hand, and watched people mill about, running into old friends or simply taking in the sights and smells.  Talk about past films, actors, actresses and directors.  No talk of coming soon.  Tonight was the coming soon.  Anticipation hung thick in the air.  Cinema like this only comes along once in a great while and the people knew it.

On December 16, 1962, Lawrence of Arabia premiered in New York City on a cold December night.  On Friday, August 8, 2009, the film ran once again in all of its 70mm glory at the Redford Theatre in Detroit.  Although the places and seasons were different, the excitement and anticipation for the film was not.  For a brief second, 2009 Detroiters were connected to 1962 New Yorkers through a movie experience like no other.  The same chills that ran down the spines of those in the audience almost 50 years ago ran once more through the crowd sitting in the Redford.

The Redford

Every once and a while, you come across a movie theater that makes you say: this is what watching movies is all about. The look, the feel and even the people in the theater blend together with the film to create a vivid, unforgettable experience.  The Redford is one of these places—a place that that gives off an aura of nostalgia and character without even trying.

Built by Detroit theater baron John Kunsky (later known as John King) and designed by famed architect C. Howard Crane (known for the Fox Theatre and the Capitol Theater—now the Detroit Opera House), the Redford Theatre was a 2051-seat entertainment palace when it opened in January 1928.  With shows ranging from vaudeville to silent films, the Redford was a place for the young and old to come for first rate entertainment.  In those days, adult admission was 30 cents and children were admitted for 15 cents.  I could devote a whole week of posts to the long and storied history of The Redford, but instead I will let readers check out the detailed timeline put together by more knowledgeable folk than I (http://redfordtheatre.com/timeline).

There are two things that really set the Redford apart from other movie venues in the area and (I would argue) the Midwest.  The first is the décor.  Immediately visible upon entering the concession lobby and as you progress farther into the theater itself are the Japanese motifs and characters that adorn the walls.  An impressively painted sky also stretches the length of the Redford’s ceiling and, as of 2008, includes 10,000 feet of fiber optic strands, giving the appearance of twinkling stars.  The Japanese-style décor became a sensitive issue in the 1940s during World War II and much of it was either removed or painted over.  The non-profit Motor City Theatre Organ Society (MCTOS)—who now owns and operates the Redford—has worked tirelessly since then to restore the theater to its original grandeur.

The second thing that sets the theater apart and the main reason (aside from countless hours that MCTOS volunteers put in) it still exists today is its organ.  Just off center and to the left of the stage, the Redford’s original Barton theatre organ still sits gleaming, a star in its own right.  Without its organ, it is doubtful that the theater would be in the cleaned up, restored condition it is now.  The Redford and the Fox Theatre are the only two performance venues in the metro Detroit area that still have their original organs and it is the main reason the MCTOS agreed to purchase the building in the 1970s.  Film and music have always been excellent bedfellows, so it is fitting that the MCTOS started the movie series that still runs today to help pay the cost of their newly owned theater.

The Redford Experience

Located near the corner of Grand River and Lahser, a drive to the Redford is a powerful reminder of the economic realities in the Detroit area.  Driving west on Grand River from Detroit, many buildings sit abandoned where thriving car dealerships and repair shops once stood.  Tall wired fences or barred doors are an all too common scene on this stretch of road.  I mention this not to turn people off to the Redford, but rather to point out how important this theater really is.  Not only has the Redford been around for over 80 years, but it has weathered recessions, depressions and just about anything else thrown its way.  Film has always been a medium that brings people together and the Redford provides a place for the community and people around metro Detroit to do just that—regardless of their economic situation.

Simply put, the Redford Theatre is THE complete package when it comes to seeing a classic film in the metro Detroit area.  Don’t expect lame deodorant commercials or E! News updates about Megan Fox’s latest ramblings before any of these films.  Instead early moviegoers are treated to a concert on the Barton theatre organ by one of the many gifted organists that cycle through the Redford each weekend—a treat worth the $4.00 admission by itself.  During the few performances I have caught thus far, I have heard music ranging from the soundtrack of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast to Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven.”  You won’t find any trailers here either—expect classic Looney Tunes cartoons or the occasional 1930s sing-along to precede most films.

The concession stand, which has long been recognized by patrons and the media alike, provides a shining example of how the Redford gets all the little things right.  Apart from ridiculously cheap prices on candy, the Redford also has one particularly unique item on its menu—sweet potato cookies.  I am glad to report that these cookies, made by a local bakery on the same block as the Redford, are delicious in both flavors (regular and chocolate chip).  Aside from the performances and the excellent concessions, the other notable aspect of the theater is the people.  Run entirely by MCTOS volunteers, you can tell that the people working each show truly love the building, the music and the films.

The bi-weekly film series, which is usually divided into a fall/winter season and a spring/summer season, features a gamut of genres and styles.  This past year saw everything from Mutiny on the Bounty to Terminator, while the current season’s films include Dial M for Murder, The Great Dictator, The Blob, Kronos, Werewolf of London, House of Dracula, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, My Fair Lady, A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Story and The Wizard of Oz.  Special events are also mixed in throughout the year—like a Three Stooges film festival during Halloween or a holiday-themed Barton organ performance featuring noted organists John Lauter and Tony O’Brien in December.

As I slowly make my way through my list of classic films to watch (see The Ultimate List), the Redford has become sort of a home base for me.  Not only can I view classic films as they were meant to be seen on the big screen, but with an admission price of only $4.00, cheap concessions and an organ concert before every film, the Redford is the very definition of a film experience.  Watching a film at the Redford Theatre is more than simply “going to the movies”—it is a trip back in time and a way to connect, if even for a brief second, to past generations of moviegoers.

Learn more about the Redford or check out its current schedule by visiting their website: http://redfordtheatre.com

The back hallway on the upper level.

People gathering by the concession counter.

The pipes of the Barton theatre organ!

The picture above is a teaser of what is coming tomorrow–the Redford Theatre Cinema Review.  I am just putting the finishing touches on the article, so I should be back to a more regular posting schedule soon.

There have been quite a few developments in the Michigan movie theater world, especially right here in the Detroit area:

1. A new art house theater is opening in the D!  Model D reported today that the Burton Theatre, formerly Burton Elementary School, is set to open October 3 on Cass Avenue.  I don’t want to steal any of Model D’s thunder, so check out the article here.   It is exciting to see a new movie venue pop up in a unused building, especially one that will feature films with a more exotic flavor to them.

2. For those that haven’t heard, the local Emagine chain of theaters here in Michigan is pondering adding a new theater in Royal Oak, complete with 10 screens and an upscale bowling alley.  Although something like this might normally fly without an eye being blinked in any other community, in Royal Oak where liquor licenses have already been handed out to a max, it is causing a bit of a controversy.  Check out an interview with Paul Glantz, Founder and Chairman of Emagine Entertainment, where he expresses his views on the subject here.