Going Attractions: The Definitive Story of the Movie Palace

A follow-up to Director April Wright's "Definitive" take on the American Drive-In, this Documentary is more of a survey of movie theaters, old and new, palatial and cozy and, inevitably, active, decaying or long gone. Some of these classic movie palaces were so monumental they are probably beyond the comprehension of generations of filmgoers who have only attended multiplexes. They were works of art just as much as they were functional facilities. To see many of them in a state of disrepair is sobering.

No fan of movie theaters will be disappointed in the photos, vintage films and new footage of these cinematic treasures. As a Doc, it's not terribly scholarly and it flits around from idea to idea, hopscotching around the history. There are some good interviews (the ever ready Leonard Maltin among them) to give perspective, while others seem to be included, just because the filmmakers had access to them.

Of course, nobody is seeing this to witness great filmmaking. It's the theaters that count - and they take center stage.

Available to stream for rent on Apple TV, Amazon and Google Play.

Long-overdue documentary on a worthy subject: what became of those grand movie palaces first built in America's larger cities in the 1920s? Writer-director April Wright first takes us back to the movies themselves, to the arcades and the nickelodeons, before D. W. Griffith came along and started filming actual stories. Realizing that large crowds needed to see these then-silent pictures on a big screen, the theater moguls of history began building bigger and more lavish places for people to catch their favorite stars, Mary Pickford and Charlie Chaplin. Once movie companies got involved and attached themselves to theater chains, the competition heated up (although this exclusive arrangement was eventually squashed by Congress). As a teenager living near Tucson in the early-1980s, I had the great privilege to see several movies in an enormous mid-'60s palace named the El Dorado (I always joke I missed 15mns of "Pennies From Heaven" because I was awestruck standing in the most elaborate men's room I'd ever seen!). The El Dorado is now torn down, as are most of the lush, plush theaters talked about here--and the photographs of decaying balconies and murals is heartbreaking. Film historian Leonard Maltin and a handful of theater restoration experts talk about their favorite picture palaces with a mixture of sentiment and nostalgia, plus a determination to keep what few landmarks there are up and running. But, as one interviewee remarks, "It's not enough to just restore a movie theater--you have to keep it going by breathing life into it." An expensive proposition, indeed. This was April Wright's follow-up of sorts to 2013's "Going Attractions: The Definitive Story of the American Drive-in Movie"; she keeps the narrative moving fast, with names, dates and places going by at such a quick clip you need a scorecard to keep track of the many historical personalities involved. However, it's also a well-researched and entertaining document with dozens of rare and wonderful photos of vintage buildings and movie marquees. *** from ****

Nice look at old movie houses with plenty of historical info and tours of places that would be awesome to see. It's not going to blow your mind, but it's fine.

My wife and I had the pleasure of seeking this warm, loving hommage to movie palaces at Classic Cinema's York Theater in Elmhurst, IL -- with the added bonus of Director April Wright there to discuss the film afterwards.

It's a joy. My perspective might be tainted by seeing so many movie palaces of my youth again on the big screen -- and this film should be experienced on the big screen. The Granada, Riviera, Uptown, Music Box (still alive and very well), and the Avalon (aka New Regal) where I drove on a date for the first time. Like so many of the other palaces of then and now from around the nation featured in this film, the Avalon in Chicago's South Shore neighborhood still stand in all its glory. I had occasion to attend Avery Brooks' one man show of Paul Robeson there on the centennial of Robeson's birth, and it was amazing how much smaller this grand theater was -- compared to how huge it seemed when I was a kid.

If you remember the joy of seeing a film with hundreds of other movie goers, and remember the astounding over the top architecture of some of these movie palaces, see this film. If you never had the experience, see this film and you'll see why so many miss the movie palace of yore.

That's the title and that's pretty much what this is.... although I balk whenever something claims to be 'definitive'. Half of this is the usual talking heads -- including Leonard Maltin, of course -- and half the movie palaces themselves in varying states of survival. To keep visual interest, a lot of the shots of movie palaces are done with a moving camera.... or, in cases where only photographs survive, a moving photo.

The talking heads are the usual assortment of impassioned, sensible, and incoherent people. The point of this moving picture is, unsurprisingly, the pictures of the lost architectural wonders of the movie palaces. Built to show movies to audiences of as many as five thousand people at a time, when the time came when they could not be filled, they lost their purpose. Today, when even the most rabid movie fans are happier sitting at home, the communal aspect of audiences has been lost. We forget that having hundreds, even thousands of strangers sitting in the dark is not threatening. That they came to laugh or cry or cheer at the same thing, and do, is what makes communities, cities, even nations. When we lose places that can happen, we lose our sense of being a people.