Only in Theaters (2022)

Concession Stand Confessional

I’ve never admitted this publicly, but I actually like that Nicole Kidman/AMC Theaters ad.. Sure, it’s syrupy and contrived, but it also speaks to the singular experience of watching movies on a big screen. I wince when people refer to moviegoing as “secular church”, but I understand the impulse: every week, ticketholders and congregants alike are transported into other lives, painstakingly rendered, via story, drama, and allegory. In grand, high-ceilinged venues, we commune with the wisdom of the ages, be they infinite twists on The Seven Basic Plots or of-the-moment commentary on ancient texts.

Sadly, both forms of collective enlightenment share something else in common: a decade-plus downturn in both ticket sales and in-person religious services. Between changing spiritual attitudes; technology that lets us join conference calls from our beds while also playing video games and watching movies (often on the same device); not to mention inflation, stagflation, and Wac-a-Mole pandemic fears—it’s no wonder the word “connectivity” is now measured in bits per second, rather than hugs and handshakes.

Raphael Sbarge’s documentary, Only in Theaters, is the story of the Laemmles, a family that has cultivated and fought for the moviegoing experience with almost Job-like resolve for nearly a hundred years. Carl Laemmle co-founded Universal Pictures in 1912. In 1938, cousins Kurt and Max created Laemmle Theaters, which has operated various independent movie houses in the L.A. area ever since. Sbarge’s narrative centers on current president Greg Laemmle, but it’s clear from the start that this isn’t just “a movie about the movie business”; it’s about how a calling gets into the blood and trickles down, generation to generation.

Much of the doc is about Greg’s weighty, George Bailey-esque struggle: having not grown up dreaming of running a movie theater, he nonetheless finds himself assuming greater responsibility when his aging father, Robert, takes on an advisory role in day-to-day operations (Robert shares a similar story about having quit a career in banking to work with his father, Max). Greg and his wife, Tish, are both lifelong film enthusiasts who love their customers and community, but the day-to-day realities of running an indie theater chain are a far cry from celluloid flights of fancy.

As corporate multiplexes, regional brands, and mom-and-pop arthouses alike face declining revenue in early 2019, Greg grapples with the Earth-shattering prospect of selling the company while there’s still some money to be made in the industry. Sbarge underscores the seriousness of this move by interviewing notable filmmakers, critics, and locals who maintain that there would be no film culture without Laemmle Theaters.

For those who haven’t seen the doc, this may sound like hyperbole. But when you hear stories and see photos from Laemmle premiere screenings of little movies like Rocky, Raging Bull, and Network (not to mention obscure overseas auteurs who would become household names Stateside over the decades)—Oh, and an animated lamp named “Luxo Jr.” from a fledgling animation studio called Pixar—it’s easy to see how vital a keen artistic eye and an openness to independent voices are to every bit of “content” we take for granted today.

Though Sbarge sets up a fractured entertainment landscape (including video games, social media, and movies On Demand) as the main threat to the Laemmles’ livelihood and legacy, several recurring timestamps offer a sly reminder that there’s something even more hazardous in the water. These dates are Jaws’ horizon-skimming fin, preparing our subconscious for the bloody chomp of an inevitable COVID-19 storyline.

Only in Theaters isn’t a “pandemic movie”, per se, but in an eerie third act stretch, Sbarge eloquently captures the shifting moods and pervasive mania of 2020 and 2021—not just in lockdown and riot footage, or the slow-motion uncertainty of when something resembling “normalcy” might return (Greg makes up the opposite-angle marquees of one of his theaters with sardonic notices, one of which reads: “Now Playing: Family Business” / Coming Soon: Requiem for a DreamI”), but also in the way he’s forced to push through a story he thought had already wound down. Government restrictions force the production to go guerilla; the well-lit, meticulously staged interview setups soon give way to cell phone videos and Zoom calls—one of which features Greg Laemmle wracked by a stress-induced facial disfigurement called Angioedema.

At one point, Greg asks, “How much sacrifice is required in pursuit of the thing that you love?”

We watch the Laemmles sacrifice a lot in these 90 minutes, but they never give up—not on their dreams, not on each other. Even in their darkest hour, family members riff in movie quotes. More than just a nostalgic shorthand, this peculiar love language feels like a buoyant artifact from a lifetime of silver screen lessons—one of which is that better times are often a reel or two away.

Postscript:

Unlike the movies, real life doesn’t end with scrolling credits. In the year since Only in Theaters was released, the future of Hollywood, movie theaters, and all the attendant industries that rely on a humming entertainment machine have been thrown into enough turmoil to fuel at least one sequel.

Writers are on strike. Actors are on strike. Negotiating tables are covered in dust. Meanwhile, studios have unleashed Artificial Intelligence on scripts, TV show intros, and the creation of “digital actors” by capturing extras’ likenesses for use in perpetuity. That’s to say nothing of summer 2023’s historic box office flops (or Tinseltown’s false Messiah, “Barbenheimer”).

A couple weeks ago, Film Twitter (sorry, “Film X” sounds stupid and vaguely filthy) threw a tantrum when Warner Bros moved Denis Villeneuve’s Dune sequel off its 2023 schedule and into next year. So much head-scratching! So many raised eyebrows! Indeed, what sense does it make for a studio with a quarter-billion dollars on the line (at least) to plan for a highly anticipated movie to come out…in the midst of what may be an otherwise barren release landscape?

Whether Sbarge and company choose to follow up Only in Theaters with another harrowing but heartfelt journey into madness, we can rest easy knowing that there will probably always be a Laemmle planning, sweating, and bleeding for our ability to gather in solidarity and celebration of movies great and small.

For more on the origins of Only in Theaters, and to find out what’s next for the Laemmles, check out the April episode of IndieSeen, featuring a discussion between myself and Sujewa Ekanayake and director Raphael Sbarge and Greg and Tish Laemmle.

Only in Theaters is now available On Demand, and also on DVD from Kino Lorber.