Bold as brass I entered the small lobby of blue brick Cinema Village with its rhomboid-shaped marquee jutting out over Greenwich Village’s East 12 St. off of Fifth Avenue, without calling ahead for an appointment to speak to its manager. It felt, to me, as though I were coming home in a way. I’ve been going to Cinema Village for a quarter-century, at least. The picture house is an bare-boned affair with no frills. Like a fast-food restaurant: you go in, see a film; after it’s finished, you leave. To me, too, it has the feel of a favorite, well-worn sweater.
As luck would have it, Lee, the manager, was at his post by the concession stand. Polite, thoughtful, and soft spoken, he greeted me as though we were old friends, and he had all the time in the world to chat but not to ‘manage’ an art house. He struck me as a private person, but he began our conversation by immediately telling me something about himself and, of course, Cinema Village.
“I am as old as Cinema Village, 47. The house opened in 1963, the year of my birth”, began this slightly built man, youthful Nebraskan, with a shock of snow-white hair, hidden under a baseball hat, with wire-framed glasses. He himself is no stranger to film: in fact, he managed of the East Village ‘Pioneer Theater’, an independent house, until it fell victim to rising real estate rents. “Cinema Village”, he proudly announces “is the oldest art house in New York”.
Physically, Cinema Village occupies an abandoned turn-of-the-century fire station. “Unfortunately, the original owner did not think of preserving the building’s original facade”, he thought. Certainly, retro is in today, and what a draw that would be, he added. In 2000, it was transformed from a single- to a three-screen picture house: the original auditorium has a 156 seats; the smallest seats 66, and the medium-sized hall downstairs has room for 73. Only the biggest hall is wheelchair accessible.
Its patrons come not only from the Village, but from all five boroughs. Lee couldn’t say how many tickets are sold a year; but it is profitable shoestring operation with a staff of nine (four managers are also non-union projectionists). Most films are on 35-mm, but Lee will also show films on Blu Ray or high-definition format, but not regular DVD because of its poor quality. Cinema Village shows vintage films, first-run, cult and contemporary favorites, documentaries, and ‘indies’. “Where else can see “Kimjongilila”, a documentary on a flower named after North Korea’s strongman?” he says as his face breaks out into a broad smile.
Lee quickly rattles off some stats: “the Cesar-awarded film ‘Tell No One‘ ran for a record 82 weeks; ‘The Piano Teacher‘ 28 weeks, ‘Yi Yi‘ 21 weeks and ‘Mulholland Drive’ 18 weeks. And the six-hour Grammy Award ‘Carlos‘ played nine weeks, which says something about the kind of film mavens who go to Cinema Village”.
On any week, this cinema will schedule three to six or seven films. On Friday, March 4, when I visited it, you could see Peter Weir’s “The Way Back”, Nicole Kidman’s “Rabbit Hole”, the ‘indie’ “Putty Hill”, and a documentary on the Brazilian artist Vik Muniz, “The Wasteland”. Slated for the coming weeks are films from Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tibet, France, Germany, and the US: quite a palette of cinematic color and variety. Distributors will send Cinema Village a rooster of films, which the staff will review, reject, or schedule.
Lee points modestly adds, “A serious film buff would spot Woody Allen’s use of our marquee in some of his films. Martin Scorcese rented the house for ‘The Departed’”.
As a business, Cinema Village has hosted film festivals: Greek, the Other Israel, Russian, Korean, and Irish. It doesn’t refuse “four-walling”, since it guarantee money upfront. The house has no budget for advertising, postcards, or posters, which is picked up by the distributor. It does show first-run films because distributors feel they can tease out an extra dollar or two by booking it there.
Admission is competitive: adults pay $10, students $7, and seniors $6. Consequently, it draws a steady stream of patrons. “The house, however”, Lee adds “doesn’t show ‘kids movies’”. Nonetheless, Cinema Village will rent out space on mornings for children’s birthday parties.
Cinema Village is an institution on the New York scene. “The New York Times”, “Wall Street Journal”, “The Nation”, “Village Voice”, and “New York Press” regularly review the films it offers.
David Rothenberg, founder of Fortune Society and a host on WBAI and a retired Broadway agent, is a booster. Joseph Hurley, a veteran film reviewer, never misses a chance to “plug” a film at Cinema Village.
As for me, I usually go see French films there. I occasionally run into Rivka, a Paris-born Hassid from Brooklyn’s Borough Park. We usually exchange some thoughts on films with a Jewish theme we saw, say, a Franco-Israeli film “Va, vit, et deviens”. Adjusting her light-brown “sheitel”, she was very much moved by “Va…” “The plight of the Falasha or Ethiopian Jews in Israel”, she thought, “was handled subtly with nuanced understanding”. To me, I found it equally remarkable for the willingness of the Franco-Moroccan actor Roschdy Zem to play in an Israeli film.
Where else can I see “The Grocers’ Son” with the talented Nicolas Cazale?
Gwyn Sullivan next to whom I sat at “Carlos” was a friend of Pauline Kael. “Pauline would’ve been at home in Cinema Village. And, “Carlos” is the kind of film, Pauline would have sunk her teeth in”, she wryly remarked.