By Ethan Kaufman & Max Mester
Picture a fluorescent marquee over a typical Philly storefront, posters line the wall of the milquetoast building. It reads: Roxy Theater. It may not look like much from the outset, but the Roxy has a rich history that deserves to be told, lest it be lost to the bowels of time. The Roxy has long been a staple of the Philadelphia moviegoing community, despite having worn many different hats and going by quite a few aliases over the years. Unfortunately, the answer to the titular question What’s Playing at the Roxy? is nothing anymore, but that doesn’t detract from the Roxy’s decades of service to the people of Philadelphia. The findings below chronicle the life, rebirth, and eventual death of the Roxy Theater, encompassing the establishment’s revolving door of ownership and the highs and lows in its struggle to adapt to meet the demands of the ever-evolving film exhibition industry.
First, a brief history lesson: the Roxy started its life cycle as the Pocket Playhouse in 1968, opening as a live theatre. Barely a year later in October 1969, it was transitioned into a 16mm moving picture exhibition business under the pseudonym Underground Cinema. The only issue: true to its name, the Underground Cinema was less than legitimate and was quickly shut down in lieu of proper permits. It reopened soon after but was renamed Aarde Cinema by year’s end 1970. The Aarde Cinema was infamous for a time due to its screening of adult movies, only to be forced to close again in 1973. Renovated to be reopened in February of 1974, the newly-minted Academy Screening Room showed arthouse and revival movies until its closure again in 1976. Around this time, Al Malmfelt was brought in to operate the mini-theatre under the ownership of Max Raab. In an unprecedented turn, the theater was briefly repurposed as the night club Club Hippo only to be the unfortunate victim of an arson attack, leaving it unfit for business and finally bringing us to The Roxy.
In May of 1982, the Roxy, now opening under the classic moniker for the very first time, was a single screen theater with the capacity to seat 120 patrons to watch exclusively arthouse/independent films. A second screen was added some time after to compensate for increased demand. A pair of benevolent benefactors, Ray Murray and Claire Brown, bought the Roxy Theater in 1984, expanding its watch card to include newly released titles. In 1990, Murray left the Roxy to pursue a venture in videotapes, something he saw as the way of the future. The Roxy operator decided to concentrate on his movie-rental business, TLA Video and leave the Roxy to new management. Murray commented on the decision, “The audience is changing… The people who used to come to our theaters are now renting videos.” This rationale is emblematic of the trends that persist in the entertainment industry even today. Streaming is just the same phenomenon by a different name, calling the uncertain future of movie theaters into question, especially a smaller establishment like the Roxy.
Like clockwork, the next nail in the coffin for the Roxy came in 1994 from external factors. At this time, Max Raab embarked on a legal battle against entertainment giant (and the nest egg of one Harvey Weinstein) Miramax Films. The antitrust suit alleged that Miramax only allowed the Center City Philadelphia’s Ritz theaters to show first run movies. Valid or not, the fallout from the suit prompted the mass closure of many local Philadelphia movie theaters, including the Eric Rittenhouse 3, which was demolished, and Sam’s Place I & II, which became a CVS Pharmacy. The Roxy’s fate also looked to be sealed, and it would have been if not for the intervention of Bernard Neary.
After rescuing the Roxy in 1996, Neary orchestrated the grand reopening of the Roxy on February 7, 1997 with the releases of such titles as “Secrets and Lies” and “Hype.” Neary positioned the Roxy as a renaissance theater, showing all types of films from arthouse to classics to new releases. Neary’s entire business model revolved around making the Roxy the most profitable it could be by providing the greatest range of movies to service the needs of cinephiles and casual moviegoers alike. Neary’s run would last into the 2010s as a veritable golden age for the Roxy Theater. But, alas, nothing lasts forever. The Roxy found itself at death’s door once again in 2012 when the landlord terminated Neary’s lease. Thankfully, there was another deus ex machina to raise the Roxy from perdition.
In 2012, the Philadelphia Film Society swooped in and signed a 16-year lease to save the Roxy Theater. The PFS refurbished the theater, including reupholstered chairs and screens, surround sound and the implementation of digital projection in addition to 35mm film projection. The Roxy Theater’s final reopening coincided with the December 2013 releases of Saving Mr. Banks and The Wolf of Wall Street on two screens. This was followed by a period of prosperity for virtually the next 7 years before becoming yet another casualty of the Coronavirus pandemic in 2021. Just one month after its forced closure due to the pandemic in March 2021, the PFS announced that it would be pulling out of the Roxy, vacating the theater indefinitely, to move their operation to the comparatively larger Ritz at the Bourse in Center City. Despite a disheartened community rallying behind the fallen Roxy, there are currently no plans to revive the historic theater.
As a Philadelphia native, I had the pleasure of attending a plethora of films at the Roxy theater. Conveniently located in Center City, it’s location allowed for moviegoing experiences to continue after the credits rolled. My friends and I would go to the Shake Shack on the corner or hangout in Rittenhouse park until our parents told us it was time to come home. The Roxy’s narrow, almost undersized screening room provided a deeply personal experience. It felt like everybody in the audience knew each other. There was little discombobulation in reactions: we laughed together, we cried together. Unlike large commercial amphitheaters that drown you in sound and cushioned-seats, the Roxy provided a timeless moviegoing experience grounded in intimacy and authenticity.
When I was a sophomore in high school, my two friends went to see Spiderman: Homecoming (2017) at the Roxy. We were all very excited; so much so, that my one friend brought a small Spiderman toy he got from a Happy Meal at McDonald’s. We sat in the back of the theater, our eyes focused on Peter Parker swinging through the streets of Manhattan. The audience was crowded, though it did not exceed more than 100 people. When the film concluded, my friend decided to run up to the screen during credits and reenact scenes from the movie with his Spiderman toy. In a commercial theater, he would have been promptly escorted out of the theater. In the Roxy, however, such behavior was deemed acceptable. It was, after all, only the credits. The few remaining people left in the theater enjoyed his childish antics, and my other friend and I watched hysterically from the back of the screening room.
Did Covid-19 spell the end for the Roxy Theater, or was this eventuality inevitable? Obviously, we will never know, but it says something that the Roxy spent decades trying to claw its way out of purgatory only to be saved countless times. In my opinion, the Roxy may be evidence to the contrary, proving that there will always be a utility in local theaters because they are so important to their communities. There’s still a place in this rapidly changing digital world for a small-time theater like the Roxy to coexist. If the Roxy’s story of resilience teaches us anything, it’s that the more the entertainment landscape changes, there are some things that stay the same, and that one of these universal truths is that the Roxy never truly dies. So, What’s Playing at the Roxy? We’ll just have to wait and see.
Image Gallery
Sources
http://cinematreasures.org/theaters/22179
The Philadelphia Athenaeum Collection
