Sir, Please Move Your Head: Nostalgia vs. Stadium Seating

Last night, the husband and I made the trek from Toledo to Ann Arbor, MI, to watch Crazy Heart (Scott Cooper, 2009). Usually we wouldn’t drive 40 minutes to see a movie, but Ann Arbor was the closest city where the film was playing. As a result, we sucked it up and drove.

I’ll say first that the film was worth the drive. Bridges deserves the accolades he has recently been receiving (Golden Globe, SAG award, etc.). Crazy Heart was an intimate film with believable (though gritty) characters and a tightly constructed narrative. It is always refreshing when a film, like this one, creates such character depth in a time span of less than two hours, a testament to the collective efforts of the director, film editor, sound editor, composer, and actors. I haven’t experienced such cohesion in a while; granted, my last films were Bad Lieutenant Port of Call: New Orleans, It’s Complicated, and Sherlock Holmes, the latter of which contained no narrative control whatsoever.

But what I’d really like to consider in this post is the venue in which we screened Crazy Heart: the Michigan Theater, in the middle of downtown Ann Arbor and about 10 feet from the massive campus of The University of Michigan (go, Wolverines!). Nostalgic, quaint, and sorta’ decadent, the Michigan Theater (at right, present day) offers what it calls “specialty cinema, including documentaries, independent, foreign, and classic films.” And like most older venues, the theater screens only motion pictures “targeted at true movie fans, who love and appreciate fine film.” In other words, Sherlock Holmes won’t be showing its scatterbrained face here.

Upon doing a bit of brief research on The Michigan Theater I’ve discovered the following facts:

• It was constructed during the silent era (roughly 1895-1927) and officially opened to the public on January 5, 1928.
• The main auditorium still seats 1700 and contains a 1927 Barton Theater Pipe Organ (there is a smaller screening theater).
• In the 1930s, the ornate lobby showcased sponsors’ products like General Electric refrigerators, which represented the latest in icebox technology in 1933 (image below).
• According to its website, the theater features “real gold leaf” and “real butter on the popcorn.” Nice.
• As with most original theaters, this one has undergone several renovations and necessary technical modernizations (e.g., sound and heating systems). Here are some pictures from the theater’s website:

But what the Michigan Theater has yet to renovate is its seating. I know, I know. Installing stadium seating would completely ruin the nostalgic mood and the original look of the venue; not to mention, those 1700 seats — which are really close together (and mildly uncomfortable), by the way — would fall greatly in number were the owner to implement the more modern seating accommodations. Please note that in no way am I advocating a change here.

With that said, however, my weekend experience with “old school” movie-going has made me appreciate the current way most of us watch movies: in roomy, cushy, high-backed chairs that feature cup holders and armrests that move up and down; in wider spaces that allow another patron to pass by with (some) ease; and in sharply raked rows that offer better sightlines than the more dated low-pitch viewing floors (like the Michigan Theatre).

Sure, I’m spoiled; but unlike 3-D (yuck) and Smell-o-Vision, this is one Hollywood innovation that works; it is one that I can get behind. With stadium seating, never will I have to look around other people’s heads as I watch a film (unless Shaq plops down in front of me perhaps). Never will I miss subtitles and/or the left- or right-hand bottom portion of the frame.

While writing this post, I was surprised to discover from Ross Melnick and Andreas Fuchs in Cinema Treasures: A New Look at Classic Movie Theaters that stadium seating began in the late 1960s in Belgium. Seriously, Belgium? Apparently, the French, Flemish, and Dutch audiences were having a great deal of difficulty seeing subtitles. But it wasn’t until the mid-1990s in Dallas, TX (the AMC Grand 24), when America began to take notice of this form of seating. And thank goodness, she did take note. A teacher of cinema and Shakespeare, I am all for history, backstory, and nostalgia; but when it comes to watching movies today, I want to sit vertically, relaxed, in full view of the 30-foot frame before me.

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