Florida's Film, Television and the Arts Magazine
The Last Picture Shows
The new documentary, The Last Picture Shows, will make you feel nostalgic for what you may have never experienced. Gathering in a large dark room redolent with buttered popcorn, sitting between friends and strangers, not in a multiplex but in a small, local, stand-alone theater. The theater may bear the name of the small town in which you live. The theater might be a white screen anywhere between 30 and 100 feet wide, and you’re sitting in a car or on a lawn chair, listening to the film’s soundtrack tuned to a radio frequency. That's how I actually watched Animal House, the first time.
It’s apparent that nobody in their right mind would dream of opening a movie theater these days, when screens in your hand and in your home compete for eyeballs. Yet people continue to do just that. Not for the financial gains, because those are few and far between, but for the love of cinema. For the opportunity to bring something important to their community. Every small theater owner in The Last Picture Shows cited the same feeling: communities NEED culture. Without it, communities are dead or dying. Movie houses such as the Barnyard Cinema in Winthrop, Washington or the Enzian in Winter Park, Florida, bring as much good will to their communities as they receive in ticket sales.
The documentary is full of statistics. In 1929 there were 22,000 small theaters in the US. Fewer than 3,000 remain open. Seats have gotten bigger, increasing in size from 13” to the now popular 21”, due to proportional increase in the size of America's butts. There are so few theaters in the American West, where Director Rustin Thompson and EP Rachel Price situated their documentary, that it may be 50 miles, door-to-door, from one theater to another.
Many of the owners point out that there might be limited choices for families or kids in their small towns to do on ‘date night’. These owners grew up there, have families and friends there, and do what they can to add a little bit of excitement to what may be shuttered evening streets. Running a theater is more than a passion, it’s a life choice. They do what they can to keep the doors open, remaining flexible in serving the community and their bottom line.
The owners present suggestions to a problem they’d love to help the film distributors solve, if only the major studios would listen. You’ll certainly be amused by the number of theaters forced to show Shazam! Fury of the Gods (2023), in order to retain their relationship with the studios. In the film, theater after theater have that film on their marquee. Owners knew it was a flop but had no choice but to slot it in. FYI, that film is estimated to have lost around $148 million in its theatrical run. Owners would love to program the films that they know would appeal to their community, but their hands are sometimes tied. This servitide benefits no one, since, without local theaters, films are forced to fight for fewer screens.
Interspersed with archival stills provided by cinematreasures.org are shots of our incomparably beautiful American West. The beauty of the mountains, juxtaposed with the neon-bedecked beauty of the theaters, is certainly done with purpose.
I admit to feeling a little guilty, sitting on my couch, watching The Last Picture Shows, rather than catching it in a local theater. But this way I’m able to suggest you see it for the history, and urge you to support your local theater, even if it’s on $5 Tuesdays, before the neon glow is permanently extinguished.
