The Suddenly Popular Classic Theater

This theater says it's the longest continuously-running theater in the Twin Cities.  I thought a long time ago it was shuttered and re-opened and refurbished under new ownership.  Regardless, I tried to take in a movie there once a year.  It's a beautiful place -- small with red paint and carpet, it's a throwback theater that harkens back to an age where the theater was one of the great social gathering spots in the country.  And I was able to just park right next to it, walk on up, and get a ticket to, like, Philomena or A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood.  The ticket is way more expensive than, say, at a first-run, modern theater with all the bells and whistles (provided you go on a Discount Tuesday) and you get to sit in an uncomfortable seat.  But the atmosphere of being in a theater that starting showing movies in the 1920's more than makes up for it.  And, again, I only go there once a year, so an annual treat is a small way to live a little.

Like I said, I never had trouble getting a ticket to a show.  With one exception: I tried to go to a special screening of ... well, the name of the movie escapes me, but it's a Leslie Nielsen slapstick comedy that is not from The Naked Gun series.  I believe one of the writers is from this area, and he had a special screening as part of, I believe, a fundraiser.  I wanted to go, but I was floored that all the parking spots were taken.  I don't know if I knew for sure that the place was sold out, but I decided that I couldn't get a ticket.  That, at the time, was the only time I saw this theater packed.

Now, fast-forward to, oh, a year ago.  I know that for the past several years this place has shown special retrospective series on weekdays.  Never participated, but on this day they were showing The Seventh Seal, that Ingmar Bergman classic movie that I always wanted to watch.  I was surprised that a whole bunch of other people wanted to see it as well, as the parking lot was packed.  I scrambled to find a spot on the street and inadvertently parked right next to a fire hydrant.  Pleased as punch that I didn't get ticketed for it.

Now, a few weeks ago, this theater was screening The Sting.  That's another flick I've always wanted to see.  It was a Monday, there was nothing on TV, and I didn't want to work out, so I went back to the theater.  Also surprised that everybody seemed to be there, but this time I knew I could park at the strip mall half a block away.  It was even worse for Rebecca, being shown as part of an Alfred Hitchcock retrospective; unlike with The Sting, I was told I had to put my name on a waitlist and wait to see if I could get in.  I did get in, thankfully, but it was even more packed than it was for The Sting, which in turn was more packed than it was for The Seventh Seal.

Now I am glad that this theater is getting the house for these special screenings.  There apparently is a lot of upkeep for a movie house this grand and opulent, and there were many times when I saw a first-run movie there and noticed I was one of only a half-dozen people in the theater and I wondered how in the heck they were going to say in business.  But at least I got in.  It felt more and more likely that I couldn't get in to see these special screenings.  It's like that Yogi Berra saying: No one goes there anymore because it's too crowded.

Nonetheless, I was determined to not be put on the waitlist for the next movie I wanted to see, Hitchcock's To Catch A Thief.  I bought a ticket online that morning.  And I gave myself plenty of time to get there an find parking.  But I could not go to that strip mall close by like I did before; between Rebecca and To Catch A Thief, the manager of the strip mall as well as the restaurant at the end of the mall closest to the theater put up no trespassing signs.  I'm guessing I'm not the only moviegoer who thought he could just park there for movies.  I would take the people managing the mall more seriously if they didn't say, "Trespasser's (sic) will be towed," but I didn't want to take that chance; I parked on the street -- and I avoided the fire hydrant.  There was street parking to be had, but the theater was still packed for the flick.  I sat on one of the chairs close to the screen and off to the side, and I didn't know that the seats over there are not level because the floor rises up.

I enjoyed myself.  But between the demand for tickets, the craps game that is parking, and the new restrictions on parking at the strip mall across the street, it gives me pause as to whether I can go see a movie there ever again.  Sure, I guess that if it's a newly-released film I would have no trouble parking right beside the theater.  But for the classics?  I don't know if it's worth it anymore.  It's sad.  But while I admire people loving this theater so much, it prevents me from enjoying it the way I want to enjoy it: Alone.