It’s a sad time for San Francisco cinema. The Roxie is at death’s door. But unlike the bailout in 2002, this time, it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen, unless some enterprising person gives Bill Banning $140,000 in the next 45 days.
This comes not long after the Coronet, the finest single-screen theatre for blockbusters, died a few months ago.
So what’s left? Well, I’ve never given the Castro a dime ever since the owners fired programmer Anita Monga last year and replaced the calendar with safe repertory programming. If the Roxie goes, the only decent single-screen theatres left will be the Balboa and the Red Vic.
Three single-screen theatres compromised in one year alone speaks ill of the future.
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (
Geez, how can you see Revenge of the Sith in San Francisco if not at the Coronet? It was the only screen big enough to encompass George’s vision!
I saw all of the remastered trilogy there, as well as Episodes I and II there. Sadly, the Coronet closed before Episode III.
Maybe someone will re-invent the theatre. Humboldt County’s Arcata Theatre closed down years ago and it is now being made into a theatre lounge. I’m not sure whether or not they are going to show movies there, but it had a huge screen. I saw many films there when it was open. If anything, hopefully someone will rescue the Roxie.