Vanishing Chicago: The Unvanishing

Most of Chicago's operating movie theaters are not, in the grand scheme of things, very old. Many are megaplexes built during the boom periods for such construction (from the 1970s on), and many of the surviving older theaters have either been repurposed (like the Biograph, the Chicago, the Congress, the Riviera and the Chopin, all of which now host live performances) or sit silent, awaiting revival or demolition (the Patio, the Uptown, the Esquire, the Ramova).

Some of the elderly movie houses have hung on. The Davis (opened in 1918) thrives as a first-run theater in Lincoln Square after being threatened with demolition/condo conversion and the Logan (opened in 1915) shows second-run movies in Logan Square.

One that stuck around for quite a while was a small theater in the Rogers Park neighborhood, which first opened in 1912 and operated under various names--the Regent, the 400, the Village North (when it was affiliated with the Village theater chain) and finally the Visionary--before shutting down in January of this year.

Usually, when such older theaters shut down, that's pretty much it--revival is, at best, a faint hope. And in the current economic downturn, such hopes are faint indeed.

But a faint hope is still a hope, isn't it?

I'd heard the rumors for a couple of months: the little movie house on Sheridan Road (divided from one screen into two, then four, many years ago) was being worked on. Somebody was trying to breathe life back into it.

So when I saw on Fandango that showtimes were listed for the New 400, I wasn't entirely surprise--but was completely intrigued.

My last visit to the theater, then under its Village North name, had been a resolutely unpleasant one. It was November, 2007. I was there to watch Stephen King's The Mist in order to write a review of it for a website I was associated with at that time. It was a cold day (as November days in Chicago often are), and even though I'd arrived only 15 minutes before showtime and the staff could clearly see me and a few other brave souls milling about outside, they kept the doors locked until five minutes before showtime.

Once we were finally let in, things didn't get any warmer--the theater was "having issues" with People's Gas, a note on the door said. The staff seemed to be extras from a George Romero movie, uninterested even in taking our money, much less selling us popcorn or answering any questions we might have had. All in all, it was a thoroughly miserable moviegoing experience, and I decided to never go there again.

(That may sound unduly harsh, but I'd had virtually the same experience at the Lincoln Village, also affiliated with the Village chain, just a couple of weeks before. By no great coincidence, the Lincoln Village also closed around the same time as the Village North; it remains closed today.)

But that was then and this is not, so I planned a trip to the New 400 over the Independence Day weekend.

I got out the door later than planned on Sunday--that'll happen when you sleep till noon--and CTA was about as cooperative as usual (you sure you want an Olympics here, Mayor Daley, when the transportation system can't handle the passengers it already has? On a perfectly clear Sunday afternoon?), but I still managed to make it to the theater just before showtime.

The New 400 was cleaner than when I last visited--not that it was a pigsty before, but the carpet looked bright (perhaps even new), the seats felt comfy (possibly also new), and the faint scent of fresh paint still lingered in the air.

The biggest change in the theater, though, was in the attitude of the new staff. They were friendly, lively, and helpful. They seemed glad to have me there. On my way out of seeing Public Enemies--a wonderful-looking take on bank robber John Dillinger and G-man Melvin Purvis that uses many Chicago locations and gets the period detail just about right, but never gets under the surface of either the criminal or the lawman (kind of like going to the most finely appointed wax museum you're ever likely to visit), the attendant thanked me for coming and wished me a good day.

On the way out, the clerk at the front was explaining the series of name changes the theater had undergone over the years to a patron--"...and now we're back to the 400," she concluded--and I swung over and added, "And we're glad to have the 400 back, too." She smiled with genuine enthusiasm and thanked me for the compliment--"Very good to hear!"

Very good to be able to say it, too.