Sun Prairie’s new Palace Cinema (photo credit: Milwaukee Business Journal)
Yesterday at Tone Madison, part-time contributor, long-time web developer Mark Riechers wrote an impassioned post on the Sun Prairie Palace Cinema and “dream-lounging toward the arthouse apocalypse.” Riechers, who has at least a decade’s more experience in movie exhibition than I do, feels pretty strongly about the steady trend toward making the “movie” part of the “movie-going experience” secondary:
Marcus, like every theater chain in the country, makes their money on the extras around the periphery of the film experience, so despite my griping, there’s business sense to a lot of what has gone into the Palace. But the fact that they’re so transparently telling us that the movie is secondary to the experience—to the point of branding the seats we sit in and hoping we accidentally stay after the movie thinking we’ve wandered into a local pizzeria or pub—tells you that they don’t take their mantle as would-be custodians of film culture in Madison even remotely seriously.
I don’t want to cherry-pick, so go read the entire thing. It’s a passionate and funny post (though that’s typical from our colleagues at Tone).
But if I may add to the conversation here, what exactly do we mean when we talk about an “arthouse apocalypse?” For the vast majority of cities (read: those not named New York, Los Angeles, or Chicago) mainstream Hollywood fare exhibited in big, homogenized theater chains is more the rule than the exception. Sure, there’s always the Alamo Drafthouse to point to, but name another niche theater chain that’s willing to do this and this.
Riechers, who’s expanded and clarified his post further via Facebook, boils down his beef with Marcus’ advertising:
You’re right, at a certain point you’re splitting hairs right? It’s all advertising. But I look at a website for a theater like the Palace and the optics just say to me “this is a place to eat/spend money that happens to show movies.” Take a peek.
The Palace Cinema’s construction and subsequent “grand opening” struck me as innocuous at best and (with their questionable beverage tie-ins) laughable at worst. But Marcus Theatres isn’t the problem here. I grew up 15 minutes outside of Minneapolis (bias alert) and have seen enough multiplexes pushing recliner seating and silly amenities over what’s up on the marquee. If anything, Madison seems to be experiencing a not-uncommon problem for mid-sized cities: it’s stuck between cultural variety (your Four Star Video Cooperatives and your Rooftop Cinemas) and “townie” culture. (e.g. Johnson Creek doesn’t have a repertory cinema program; they have an AMC with a “Stubs” program and comfortable seats.) With Netflix, Hulu Plus, Amazon Prime, etc., amenities are what seem to be getting people off their Roku boxes and into these restaurant-theater hybrid monstrosities.
None of this is to downplay Riechers’s points. It’s actually refreshing to see concern over changes to the city that amount to more than “Boo, this is different.” Riechers ends his piece:
We need a theater on the near east side, or even on the isthmus, with a small, knowledgeable staff that’s paid a living wage to run a modestly-sized theater aggressively booked with second-run hits, rare gems, limited-run wildcards and old favorites for families and adults alike. It’s the kind of pipedream theater that would only work if it was owned, run by and frequented upon by people who absolutely adore films and seeing them with their kin. You know, the ones still paying to see movies that aren’t on Netflix.
This pipedream theater sounds great. It also sounds impossible. WUD Film, Cinematheque, and the Wisconsin Film Festival (three outposts Riechers highlights earlier) are all great cultural “investments” in Madison, bringing rare, new and exclusive content to moviegoing audiences — and often for free. But it’s worth pointing out they all have something else in common: an association with the University of Wisconsin. As has been vociferously reiterated since Governor Walker’s proposed $300 million budget cuts, the UW system is a huge part of the city’s financial makeup and, if I can extrapolate from some of Riechers’ highlights, a huge part of its cultural one as well. If we want that pipedream theater, perhaps the best person to talk to is Rebecca Blank.
Is there even a huge demand for movies that don’t feature superheroing and/or avenging? The Wisconsin Film Festival, which takes place right here on the isthmus and brings in actors and filmmakers from all over, saw another drop in attendance this year from its previous low in 2013 — and with a slate diametrically opposed to the billion-dollar franchises crowding opening weekend. Is there a film-going culture here that can support long-term programming for deep cuts and cult favorites? The optimist in me would like to say “yes,” but that’s the big, fat nacho cheese-guzzling question. Sundance at Hilldale, the closest thing Madison has to a regular arthouse theater, shows The Amazing Spider-man 2 and TCM-curated “Classics” just as often as festival sleepers and foreign language fare.
Yes, the “Take Five Lounge” is tremendously stupid, and reclining seats shouldn’t be a main attraction. And as someone who enjoyed plenty of shitty horror films there, I was sad to see Eastgate go, especially in the unceremonious fashion in which Marcus put it out to pasture. But I’ve also been to my fair share of Rooftop and Spotlight Cinema screenings and while those offer diverse, quirky, well-curated programs at affordable prices, they’re not packing people into the screenings I’m at.
Palace Cinema is part of a larger trend, one that’s been here for a while and that doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere anytime soon. Forget the pipedream theater; if anything, we’re not supporting our existing cultural outlets enough. Donate to Cinematheque. Sign up for a Four Star membership. And for Christ’s sake, get in line for the film festival.