When commercialism reigns supreme, as in the marketing era of Hollywood during the 1970s and 80s, "art" became marginalized, and many art cinemas began to struggle, especially since the digital age, with some unable to afford the cost of transitioning from film to digital. They ended up closing down. By 2011, even some long-standing establishments faced closure during the peak of digitization. The "Sunset 5," boasting a 20-year history, declared its closure in a poignant gathering of film enthusiasts and industry insiders in West Hollywood. This famous and beloved Los Angeles art cinema, once a haven for independent filmmakers globally, had seen sold-out screenings of indie director Bill Condon's "Gods and Monsters" and Lisa Cholodenko's "High Art." Back then, art cinemas and indie films complemented each other, fostering an independent ecosystem that sustained itself. However, in recent years, significant chains like Cinemark and AMC began delving into art or specialty films such as Oscar winners "Black Swan" and "The King's Speech," blurring the lines between art and commercial cinema. These significant chains started tapping into the art cinema business, taking away business from dedicated art cinemas like "Sunset 5."
Moreover, established venues like "Sunset 5" faced competition from new art cinemas, particularly Arc Light, Pacific Theatres, and Landmark Theatres. These new players offered mixed screenings of commercial and art films, diversified business models, top-notch services, and low ticket prices ($2 to $4), securing a competitive edge. For instance, Arc Light Cinema, established in Hollywood in 2002, provided spacious, comfortable seats that could be pre-booked while serving beer, wine, and cocktails for patrons to enjoy while seated—an experience that enhanced the viewers' movie-watching pleasure. Despite a decline in the overall US box office, Arc Light's distinctive offerings allowed it to grow by 10% in 2011.
With significant corporations stepping in, any moderately recognized art film often preferred distribution through these corporate giants and big cinema chains, relegating struggling art cinemas to become "second-choice" or mere "backup plans." After all, art films cater to an exceedingly niche market; out of 2,245 screens in Los Angeles, less than 5% exhibit art films and foreign language movies.
Alamo Drafthouse, founded in 1997 and headquartered in Austin, Texas, is an exemplary industry model. Operating 27 theaters, with 19 in Texas and others scattered across the US, this quirky art cinema pioneered the concept of in-theater dining, offering amenities like draft beer, hence its name. Each seat was equipped with a cabaret-style table, and there were aisles for convenient server access. Patrons would write their orders on slips of paper, passing them to waitstaff dressed in black uniforms. The flagship theater downtown started offering exclusive alternative programming, including silent films accompanied by local bands, food-themed screenings like "Chocolat" paired with meals mirroring the film's content, and retrospectives of various directors and actors. The venue's film selection was diverse, encompassing art films, foreign language cinema, horror flicks, and more, engaging the audience in interactive sessions akin to a forum.
Furthermore, the theater regularly hosted various events. Each September, Alamo's Austin theater hosted a week-long film festival called "Fantastic Fest," specifically screening horror, sci-fi, fantasy, Asian films, and cult movies. They also organized zombie film fests and alternative film festivals. What secured its unwavering position was the cinema's in-house distribution company, forming an autonomous micro-industry chain.
However, due to the dual pressures from Hollywood commercial theaters and newly established art cinemas backed by substantial capital, several vulnerable established venues and independent theaters struggled to survive. Majestic Crest, a renowned establishment founded in 1940, was purchased for $4 million in September 2010 and closed its doors within a year. Even the traditional fixture Lammle, founded in 1938, faced difficulties. Known as the "underground passage to the Oscars" in Los Angeles, it provided professional services for filmmakers to qualify for the Oscars. It was the preferred art cinema for independent films, shorts, and documentaries vying for Academy recognition. Over the past five years, multiple long-standing outlets were forced to shut their doors due to lackluster operations.
So, how does an art film carve its niche in the vast landscape of the film business? With theaters digitizing and leveraging 3D as a marketing tool, 2011 marked a turning point and a disastrous year for American art cinemas. Audience numbers dropped by 20%, and box office revenues hit a six-year low. Yet, the Belcourt Theatre in Nashville stood as an exception. According to their programmer, Toby Leonard, "They say it's doomsday for art cinemas, but I haven't seen it." While art cinemas were on the decline for years, Belcourt maintained its revenue and increased it by 20-30%. Their recent success stemmed from hosting a film retrospective, showcasing 22 films, including the relatively rare "Wind Across the Everglades" by Nicholas Ray and Roger Corman's "The Intruder." Belcourt's and other art cinemas' triumphs weren't solely due to securing scarce film selections (though this was a crucial factor). Instead, it relied on comprehensive marketing efforts, including internet promotions, discerning taste in wine, attention to detail, and catering to alternative demands.
Ultimately, at their core, art films remain a niche form of art—akin to a quiet gathering of connoisseurs. Thus, filmmakers passionate about their craft must meet investors who share that passion, all to seek out audiences who resonate with their artistic vision, collectively constructing an ecological niche for art cinema.
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