There's a reason why, whenever you go to a theater, you often see a mask with a smile and an accompanying mask with a frown--because happiness and sadness often travel together, one never very far from the other. On Wednesday, I got the downright ecstatic news that the Patio, a 1927 movie house that closed nearly a decade ago, will reopen at the end of next week, fully restored to its classic glory. (The grand reopening movie? Thor.) Will I be there opening night? Oh, you bloody well know I will.
Thursday, though, brought the buzzkill: the Piper's Alley Theater was closing for good that evening.
This was not exactly a surprise. Piper's wasn't a theater I frequented--there were movies house that were closer to where I lived and less expensive--but I ventured down to Old Town from time to time to indulge in the indie features and foreign films that those closer, cheaper theaters never show. Whenever I did go, though, especially recently, the "crowds" were very thin. The last time I went there was a couple of months ago to see The Illusionist, an animated movie based on an unproduced screenplay by the great French comedian Jacques Tati. the screening room had at least a couple hundred seats, but there were maybe a dozen other patrons there. "How does this place stay open?" I wondered.
I need ask that question no longer--it couldn't stay open. Not with audiences that could be counted on fingers and toes and still have digits left over.
That's a shame, of course. Even though Piper's wasn't one of my "got-to" theaters and wasn't a classic, old-school theater like the ones I usually hit (the Portage first opened in 1920, and the Davis, New 400 and Logan all opened before 1920), but I saw quite a few flicks there in the 20 years it was around, including Cemetery Man (Italian zombies!), Diary of the Dead (American zombies!) and Moulin Rouge! (Australian zo...oh wait, that was just the Botox-frozen face of Nicole Kidman). The most memorable movie I saw there was The Blair Witch Project, which I saw opening night with Mr. E and two of his friends (or so they tell me--I have no memory of Chrissy or Katie being there, but that's no surprise, given my memory; I also can't remember my home phone number or what I ate for breakfast). Pipers was packed that night--the only time I ever saw it sold out--and when the end credits started to roll, the house lights immediately came up, leaving a stunned audience to stumble out quickly to the lobby wondering, "What just happened?"
It's also a shame because Chicago has so few movie theaters left as it is beyond the megaplexes found mostly in the near (and not-nearly-so-near) suburbs. (River East 21, nestled near downtown, is the closest, best option for most.) The Old Town neighborhood has suffered particularly, with the nearby Village Theater closing several years ago, and the nearest theaters to Old Town's north and south all either shutting down (the Esquire) or being repurposed as live performance space (the 3 Penny and Biograph).
Maybe some other theater chain will lease the space Piper's Alley used to occupy. Or maybe it will be repurposed as well. Or maybe, like so many other shuttered theaters in the city, it will just sit there, empty and dusty, a ghost of good times long past.
1 comment:
I really don't remember the last time I was a patron at Pipers Alley Theater. Its location always has seemed a bit too remote for me given that I, like you, have other theaters easier to access by public transportation. Still, I hate to see it close for the same reasons as you. It broke my heart when the Esquire closed. Going to work some mornings, as my bus passes Oak St., I see the Esquire's art deco marquee and feel a little sad, a lot nostalgic, because the the old once-beautiful relic stands there deserted and unloved; I had so many fun movie outings there.
I, too, heard the news about the Patio. Made me smile, it did.
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