Design in the Dark: Finding Meaning in the Multiplex

The movie theater is a contradictory space. While it desperately clutches to an aesthetic of the past, it is also dependent on technological advancements for the future.

The following is an excerpt from my graduate thesis, delivered in 2010 at the School of Visual Arts.

The movie theater of today is a visual assault of plastic palm trees and cutout stars, carpeted walls and hokey wall scones, all awash under the glow of buzzing neon. The Art Deco movie palaces of the 1920s and 1930s provided the go-to standard in movie theater design, an aesthetic that has rinse-and-repeated its way to the present. Movie theaters today are as ubiquitous as Wal-Mart, as anonymously designed as Target. Yet every ornament, every swirl and doodad that decorates a movie theater, has a rich narrative that speaks to the history of film exhibition, as well as our relationship to it now.

Citizen Kane will always be Citizen Kane, regardless of whether it is viewed in a grand movie palace or projected on the side of a van. A well-draped Vivien Leigh will gracefully descend that Tara staircase, even if the film is viewed on a laptop. A great film will always be great, no matter where it’s screened. But the vessel of a medium can alter the way in which the medium is experienced. For instance, red wine served in a Styrofoam cup will still taste like red wine. But the overall experience and manner in which the wine is perceived would be completely different than if the vessel were a crystal goblet.

Since the early 1900s, cinema architects have shaped the way we see movies. In the early days, these architects drew inspiration from traveling fairs, predominately those in England and the United States. As cinema architecture developed past adolescence, a set of symbols emerged that defines our cultural understanding of movie-going. This essay analyzes three symbols—the marquee, film reel and Egyptian motifs. But there are several other symbols—popcorn, stars, the red carpet, etc.—that have come to define this architectural space. These symbols are found everywhere in a movie theater, no matter the size or location, and are so firmly embedded in the process of movie-going that our eyes hardly see them.

These symbols have also engendered and promoted a sense of nostalgia that is tied to the movie theater. As architect and design critic Edwin Heathcote has explained, “Often we feel nostalgia for cinemas that were never even part of our lives….They seem to talk of a particular moment, of the huge importance attached to the movies—they express the critical status of film in modern life.” These symbols speak to the Golden Era of film, engaging our minds in a conversation with the past. As long as symbols exist in movie theater design, movie-going will be linked to a bygone era, resulting in a subliminal dosage of nostalgia.

Yet, the movie theater is a contradictory space. While it desperately clutches to an aesthetic of the past, it is also dependent on technological advancements for the future. Aside from the IMAX format, film exhibition has remained fundamentally unchanged in the past fifty years. Most movie theaters still function to the rhythm of 35mm film passing behind the projector’s shutter. But now it seems that the threat of digital projection is becoming more real. While it still remains an expensive venture to convert analog film equipment to digital projection, theater proprietors are warming up to the notion of projecting films from a direct satellite feed. Digital projection does not significantly alter the audience experience of film, but it certainly holds implications for the future of movie theater design. The introduction of digital cinema is an opportunity to reexamine this sacred space that has defined so many lives and experiences.

The skyscraper organizes and disciplines. The airport divides and scatters. But of all the great 20th century structures, the movie theater unites and delights. A person may never look out from a window in 30 Rockefeller Plaza or board an airplane to Bali, but they have most likely gone to their neighborhood movie theater and sat with a room full of people desiring an afternoon of escape. The movie theater is built on a collective social history—a common experience.

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