Art House Theaters: Cinema of Dreams

"The degradation of the image has been going on for 50 years, for those of us who remember seeing real nitrate prints, where there was actual silver in the film and the images used to shimmer."—Peter Bogdanovich

Film lovers have let loose the worrybirds.

For months, rumors have been swirling again that the Westhampton Theater, the only local movie theater devoted to art house films, may be closing her doors after 73 years. The grim reality of local theatergoing limited mostly to mainstream Hollywood product—generic, paint-by-numbers, mind-numbing entertainment geared toward 13 to 17-year-olds—is depressing to many of us who have lifelong memories at the Westhampton.

I started going there in the ‘70s as a young child when my parents took me to see "The Sound of Music" in a packed house. I can also remember browbeating my dad into taking me to see "Jaws," a shocker that freaked me out so much that I kept dipping my hand into my soda for more M&Ms, then pouring the candy onto my face. At 16, I had sweaty-palmed dates with my first real girlfriend there, though I don’t remember what films we saw, only the silver-blue glow of her skin.

The night before taking off for college I watched David Lynch’s "Wild At Heart" with some high school buddies, leaving me with the bon voyage image of a dog trotting away with a severed hand in its mouth. And the theater is still booking great stuff to this day: just recently, I saw Oscar favorite, "The Descendants," on Thanksgiving with my dad.

Some shrug off the potential closing. Everything is now conveniently streamed into their home theater systems, which have never been better. But movies are meant to be seen on a large screen by a captive audience, not at home on your sofa, a computer on your lap, or some other distraction allowing easy breaks from the suspension of disbelief.

Like many, I still appreciate the shared ritual of movie going: From the familiar aroma of chemical sludge butter to the barrage of coming attractions, and most important, the crowd gasping, cheering, or laughing together. (A note to Generation Whatever It Is Now: Watching a feature film on your mobile phone is blasphemy and you will go blind.)

Byrd Theatre General Manager Todd Schall-Vess says that if the Westhampton goes, the Byrd would continue showing what it has been to stay afloat, a mixture of popular second-run films with community events and some independent film.

"The biggest thing that has changed the industry is not the new technology of Netflix or On Demand, but the shrinking theatrical window," Schall-Vess says. "I imagine the loss of the Westhampton will inform some choices at the Byrd and Bow Tie. What we will lose for good are the cutting edge films that have more of a niche audience."

Some would argue those have been missing in action since The Biograph closed in 1987. But if we do lose the Westhampton, the situation will indeed be dire.

James Parrish, of the James River Film Society, has long dreamt of a community storefront theater and he is already ramping up efforts in the wake of the latest threat. Parrish is looking for support to help purchase 35mm projectors and is hoping to unveil a new facilities program for a storefront theater on Dec. 15, at the JRFS’s annual holiday party for members and volunteers.

"I'm grateful for the Westhampton and Bow Tie, but compare what they are showing this week with the Film Forum and Anthology Film Archives in New York, Pittsburgh Filmmakers, the Nickelodeon in Columbia, South Carolina, the Trylon in Minneapolis. Take notice ... all are non commercial, nonprofit entities," Parrish says. "Richmond has the James River Film Society, VCUarts Cinematheque, UR International Film Festival, VCU-UR French Film Fest and others. What we're missing is a nonprofit cinema showing a mix of new release indie films, art house classics, hosting film tours and local filmmakers and festivals. I think a small storefront cinema a la the Trylon or the Nick is doable in Richmond."

Parrish would love to find a rental space near the area of East Grace Street where Pasture restaurant just opened. It’s an area some feel has the potential to become a popular public walk similar to the successful mall walk in Charlottesville.

Amen. We are in need of a new community model for a film theater but it’s going to take the sweat equity of volunteers, a sympathetic location, and probably dues-paying members to both kickstart and maintain the effort. Or who knows? Maybe some philanthropist from the old money set, who might miss their Anglofile period pieces from the Westhampton, will fix up a theater somewhere—as happened recently with the Empire on Broad.

Just please don’t limit my choices to Adam Sandler movies or films about fast cars driven by witless teen pin-ups. Those of us who love the art form will support the good stuff. And to those who think traditional theatergoing is dead: Never underestimate the power of these words: "Let’s go out to dinner and see a movie."

But if we want it, we may have to build it ourselves. Who will save arts house films in Richmond? You. Us.