The constraints of the current moment have necessitated more metaphorical, dispersed gatherings in the form of virtual cinema (VOD as branded by art-house theaters and theatrical distributors). Thats currently the only available option for the ordinarily itinerant Acropolis Cinema in Los Angeles. Since its founding four years ago, Acropolis has brought in significant contemporary titles and filmmakers for their West Coast premieres, filling in a valuable niche for the region (shared in some ways by Los Angeles Filmforum). That has included, in the past, showcasing selections from the Locarno Film Festival, acting as a kind of pipeline of cutting-edge cinema to the West Coast. Acropolis programming has continued online but expanded beyond exclusive premieres to include titles such as Martin Eden and Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets. Its an example of another vital purpose for some microcinemas, spotlighting important work for audiences that might not otherwise have the opportunity.
The practice of virtual cinema can drop a microcinema into the competitive ecosystem of new theatrical releases. My only real beef with the arrangement is certain cinemas (mainly in New York) still demanding exclusive first-week runs, said Jordan Cronk, the critic and programmer who founded and runs Acropolis, explaining that after booking a film, his Los Angeles microcinema could have to wait one week for a Manhattan venue to finish their run first. Nonetheless, virtual cinema has been a valuable way for Acropolis to continue its missionoutsized in impact given its modest scalewhile waiting for theatrical exhibition to be permissible and safe again.
The limitations imposed by the pandemic do not always apply in other countries where circumstances and policy decisions have allowed cinemas to reopen. Again, I wouldnt claim here to address the full number and extent of microcinemas in the United States, much less across the globe. But a sampling of missions might span the Filmhuis Cavia in Amsterdam; Los Otros in Manila, Philippines; the Sudanese Film Club (spotlighted in last years festival documentary Talking About Trees); and the Red de Microcines network of community exhibition spaces across Peru. In China, the well-established Caochangdi Workstation/Living Dance Studio has held screenings and work-in-progress workshops, accompanied by food from filmmaker-founder Wu Wenguang. (Sensory Ethnography Lab filmmaker J. P. Sniadecki wrote about the Workstation for his doctoral thesis.) Such a microcinema arises under politically adverse conditions that make independent film exhibition (and distribution and creation) a challenge. The Workstation (founded in 2005 a decade after the studio) has trained people in recording oral history as part of its original missionan ever-vital function in a country where history and especially the cultures of minorities have been placed at risk by government action.
The far-flung sprawl of such sites has inspired Nang, a magazine dedicated to Asian cinema, to undertake an interactive website showcasing selected independent cinema spaces across Asia. I was hoping by creating this space [online] that independent cinemas in different locales could find each other, said the projects leader, Aiko Masubuchi, former head of Japan Societys film program in New York and continuing freelancer in the field. The site is still in research stages (slated for completion in 2021) but would serve to recognize cultural work that might not receive the same attention otherwise. And in an area of exhibition where I kept hearing programmers fond recollections of their formative cinema lovesAnthology Film Archives, or Seattles Grand Illusion Theater, or the Nightingale in Chicagoa directory of some sort would be another way to connect like-minded people across generations. Masubuchi singles out a particular subset of exhibition spots in thinking about how film culture spreads and cross-pollinates.
Spaces that have been started by filmmakers have been fascinating because they have visions about what might be lacking in their own locales. They have gone to other places and brought back ideas, she said. For example, Jakartas Kinosaurus is run by filmmaker Edwin (a veteran of the festival circuit) and his producer Meiske Taurisia, founder of distribution network Colectif. After five years of screenings and workshops, Kinosaurus has used the pandemic pause to relocate from a beloved bookstore to a multipurpose arts space. Partly inspired by Japans mini-theaters (which blur the line between conventional art-house theater and the activity of microcinemas), the venue shows new and recent features and shorts by Indonesian filmmakers; Kino Classics such as Sjumandjajas 1974 drama Atheis, about a Muslim in the early 1940s facing a crisis of faith; and assorted international choices, from a memorial screening of Agnès Vardas Jacquot de Nantes to (why not) Logan Lucky.
To the rolls of filmmaker-led spaces could be added Anand Patwardhans Vikalp @ Prithviwhich moved online in full force for the pandemic, with thirty-plus programs so far, amid an increasingly volatile political climateand Craig Baldwins Other Cinema in San Francisco, the city thats home to Canyon Cinema and a historically pioneering site for microcinemas. A few years ago, the London collective A Nos Amours, cofounded by Joanna Hogg and Adam Roberts, mounted a comprehensive Chantal Akerman retrospective, complete with a book (which was recently dubbed a monument by Cineaste). It was a significant accomplishment for a microcinema, bringing attention to rarities and involving the attendance of Akerman herself; later, comparable retrospectives took place in the U.S. in her memory. More than once when watching Hoggs superb films, Ive thought of the way Akerman framed her compositions, and so its a retrospective that keeps coming back to mind. A Nos Amours(which took its name from its first screening, Maurice Pialats 1974 film) isnt currently holding screenings but last year published Robertss reflective LAMENTATION: IN THE STUART CROFT ARCHIVE.
The word lamentation sticks in my head: though I began this essay with a memory that feels from another era, I dont think we are at the point of mourning microcinemas. Simply writing about these spaces and the people behind them put the wind back in my sails after months of cultural deprivation for lack of moviegoing. Sure, its not the same might be our refrain for quite a while, but these activities during the pandemic are a vital sign of life in and of themselves. And with the bar for creating a microcinemaeven if that just means a screening series with plenty of ideas and gusto but no fixed abodelower than whats required for a full-fledged commercial theater, they hold the potential for being the first bloom of renewed communal moviegoing, the shoots that come up after a long drought and rain. Commercial industrial spaces such as multiplexes may lurch into gear or grind to a halt again. But as a fellow repertory enthusiast, Nick Pinkerton, memorably put it recently, If its me and your nan projecting 16 mm, cinema is alive.read more
Long Live The Microcinema
