Celluloid confidential

Sundance Cinema is rising, the Angelika is down and out, and the Avon and Cable Car are watching with keen interest

by Kathleen Hughes

IMAGINE YOURSELF STANDING at the bar in a snow-swaddled lodge in Park City, Utah, in January, holding a martini and chatting with Miramax honcho Harvey Weinstein about the latest Harmony Korine film. You make a ski date with Ed Burns and Heather Graham, and there goes Parker Posey, love her. All the while, you keep looking over your shoulder to see if the founder, Bob, as he's called out here, is anywhere. Mr. Redford?

Maybe you don't have any such fantasies -- you have no idea who these people are and you don't care to. Let's assume you prefer Clooney to Crudup, Demi Moore to Julianne. When you think of "hand-held," you think remote control; "16-millimeter" brings guns to mind; and the thought of "finishing funds" prompts you to call your broker, your hit man, or both.

But even those who aren't indie film aficionados can appreciate the cache of Sundance Cinemas, a name that has been mentioned longingly by developers and Providence officials for three years. If this hip cultural enterprise came to a Weybosset Street location -- becoming only the third Sundance site in the US -- it would confer prestige, significantly expand local cinematic choices, and mark a big step toward Downcity's evolution as a lively arts and entertainment district. It would also make up for the demise of an Angelika Film Center that was supposed to be coming to town.

At the same time, Sundance might pose a poignant threat to the two local idiosyncratic institutions -- the Avon and the Cable Car -- that have long delivered the goods when it comes to independent and off-beat movies.

After a few years of stops and starts, plans for Sundance to build a Downcity cinema leapt onto "the fast-track" in February, according to deputy city solicitor Patricia McLaughlin, Mayor Vincent A. "Buddy" Cianci Jr.'s point-person for the downtown district. "The Downcity project with Sundance Cinemas is moving forward," McLaughlin tells the Phoenix. "We have a letter of intent and are now working on a lease."

Sundance CEO Bill Freeman came to Providence July 12 from the company's Los Angeles headquarters for several days of design meetings with city officials. "Providence is a wonderful city with enormous cultural affinity," says Scott Dickey, a senior vice president at Sundance. "Downtown has a huge opportunity to be turned around and revitalized. It's already happening and we'd love to be a part of that."

But even though city officials are about to embark on a drive to raise $12 million in private funds to build the theater, Dickey remains tentative in describing Sundance's willingness to move forward in Providence. "Nothing has been determined," he says. "This is all preliminary, all speculation. It's by no means a done deal. There's no agreement."

PROVIDENCE DEVELOPER Arnold "Buff" Chace of Cornish Associates was the first to contact Sundance shortly after Redford announced the venture and a partnership with industry giant General Cinemas in 1997. Meanwhile, the city was making plans for Australia-based Hoyts to include a 16-screen cinema complex in the Providence Place Mall.

The deal ultimately included a mandate for the mall's developer, Commonwealth Development Group, to also build a Hoyts cinema in Downcity, or pay a $2.5 million fine. As Chace thought about development ideas for the area, he knew he needed a cinema or other venue that wouldn't compete with Hoyts. In 1997, when Redford announced the creation of Sundance Cinemas, Chace quickly saw the arthouse concept as an ideal element.

He contacted Sundance and began a multi-year series of meetings. As Chace contacted architects and designers, the city remained focused on building its own Downcity cinema. Hoyts disinterest in building another theater so close to its 16-screen behemoth at the mall meant that Commonwealth opted to pay the $2.5 million to the city. And Cianci seemed skeptical about Sundance.

Meanwhile, Providence developer David Wasserman last summer announced plans for an Angelika Film Center, an arthouse chain whose flagship is on the edge of New York's Greenwich Village, to be part of his Providence Marketplace project. The development was slated to be built on a parcel across from Interstate 95 and the back of the mall, and Wasserman still hopes to create a mixed-use entertainment site. But after Angelika's parent, Reading Entertainment, sold half of its movie business to a troubled car financing business, National Auto Credit, the Angelika aspect is now "generally dead," he says.

Other changes were on the way. In February, Cianci became a convert to the Sundance concept. McLaughlin disagrees with the idea that the city's embrace was sudden or surprising. "We were involved from the beginning," she says. McLaughlin insists that the "fast-track" status relates mostly to timing of a good location becoming available -- including Travler's Aid on Union Street, near the intersection with Weybosset Street. "All this is perfect timing," McLaughlin says, referring to plans for Traveler's Aid to move to the YMCA on Broad Street. "The bottom line has been getting them moved. We needed to ensure the future of the social services agencies."

McLaughlin says groundbreaking could occur as early as November, although Sundance's Dickey feels too much remains uncertain to definitely commit. It all rests, he says, on "getting the right economic deal in place with the right investment from the local community." As for a general outline of what the right investment has been for the first two Sundance projects, currently under construction in Portland, Oregon and Philadelphia, Dickey is exceedingly vague. "Every single project is different because each individual site is different," he says.

But after the three days of recent design meetings, McLaughlin says Providence officials are ready to immediately launch a campaign to raise $12 million in private and foundation money to build the theater. The post-construction cost of operating the cinema will be entirely paid by renting it from the city to Sundance, the envisioned tenant. "There's a lot of excitement about this project," McLaughlin says. "We have to do [the fund-raising] quickly."

Although Chace was a major force in attracting Sundance to Providence, the developer now occupies a role no more significant in the project than that of "an interested citizen," Wood says. Not that this bothers him. "Sundance is going to be really good for the city," Wood says. "It makes downtown economically viable -- it takes a hole out of the middle of the city and it'll just start to become a real, viable, and self-sustaining economy for the city."

AS CHACE AND WASSERMAN occupy the sidelines while Providence pursues an indie film complex, they're figuratively near two other significant sideliners with a strong and vested interest in the project's outcome: Ken Dulgarian, owner of the Avon Cinema on Thayer Street, and Eric Bilodeau, owner of the Cable Car Cafe & Cinema on South Main Street.

While he isn't opposed to anyone building a new cinema in town, Bilodeau remains skeptical about the outlook. "Do I think that there is a demographic that can support an Angelika or Sundance?" he asks. "With the cost of a new building and equipment, when I think of the figure, I'm not sure where the math is. I'll believe it when I see it." After a pause, he adds, "The only thing I'm against is tax treaties and incentives to help [Sundance] compete against people who have already invested personal money."

Dulgarian is also ambivalent. "I think the Downcity project is very exciting," he says. "But we're not Boston and we're not New York, so I don't know if Providence can provide that kind of traffic, but there are some people who think it can."

Dulgarian, who also owns the College Hill Book Store, says he has been solicited to sell the Avon in recent months to a "larger company" that he wouldn't identify. He adds, not terribly quickly, that he declined. It's cheaper to acquire cinemas than to recreate them, Dulgarian points out. Accordingly, he quietly raises an eyebrow at the amount of money it will cost to build, from scratch, a six- or seven-screen arthouse cinema. Like Bilodeau, Dulgarian seems to be wondering about the math.

"Some people think there is still a market for [Sundance or a similar concept], with studies and demographics," he says. "Maybe they've done their homework."

With the opening of Hoyts' 16-screen complex at Providence Place, only a few months have passed since denizens of the capital city became able to see a first-run blockbuster without having to travel to Warwick or Seekonk, Massachusetts. And in the minds of many local movie enthusiasts, a multi-screen arthouse would be a welcome improvement.

Sara Archambault of Providence, who helped to launch the low-budget indie Picture Start Film Series, says she "hate[s] to think that anything coming in like Sundance would be bad for film in Providence. I take the positive side -- that Sundance will mean more attention, more money, and more interest in different kinds of film . . . The only thing I hope is that it doesn't get too chic-chic."

But Dulgarian's near partner in the Avon, Boston-based film booker George Mansour, says it will be very difficult for Sundance to prosper since it's essentially attempting to franchise the "wonderful little niche market" of arthouse cinema. "Franchising boutique kinds of business is fraught with danger," Mansour says. "Maybe they're hoping to be Starbucks coffee of the movie business." Regardless, Mansour believes the Avon will hold steady. "The Avon [has the advantage] of doing this consistently for 23 years. We have a loyal client base . . . The Avon is a wonderful old-fashioned movie house."

Both the Avon and the Cable Car are physically attractive. The Cable Car is noted for three-seater couches, set inside the old truck storage shed that was discovered by Bilodeau's uncle in 1976, complete with a cable car inside. The Avon's art deco exterior and luxe interior, renovated in 1988, is distinguished by a vaulted ceiling, remote control velvet curtains, and the same kind of seats found at Washington's Lincoln Center. Both theaters also enjoy proximity to Brown, the Rhode Island School of Design and Providence's affluent East Side.

Customers' affection and loyalty for these two Providence institutions is stirred by their ambiance, location, and history. The Cable Car cafe also welcomes customers at most hours to enjoy a leisurely coffee, sandwich, or ice cream, while the Avon mails monthly newsletters to 10,000 movie buffs.

But, as Dulgarian and Bilodeau well know, the real race between arthouse theaters big and small is the fight for the independent, art and foreign films that will most captivate filmgoers. "It's got nothing to do with money, nothing to do with physical stuff, and nothing to do with neon lights -- it's got to do with product," Dulgarian says. "If there's not enough product, you can't fill a screen. That's the bottom line."

Still, the Avon has an ace-in-the-hole in Mansour, who has booked it for more than 25 years, as well as a dozen theaters from Florida to New Hampshire. "He's like family," Dulgarian says. Adds another Boston-based film booker, David Kleiler, "Mansour is the premiere film booker east of the Mississippi."

In theory, Mansour says, a Sundance booker could have more clout because they would be booking many screens at one time. Filmmakers want exposure, and are therefore likely to make a deal with a booker for a seven-screen, half-dozen theater arthouse chain, rather than the one-screen, single theater Avon or Cable Car.

Kleiler thinks Mansour's savvy, reputation and client list make him a worthy opponent of any Sundance film booker. "As long as George is booking, he will keep the Avon competitive," he says.

Mansour tends to agree. "The Avon will do very well, because I'm very adaptable and the Dulgarians are very adaptable," he says. "If we find a scarcity of first-run or quality first-run movies [because Sundance snatches them up], I believe we could be the Brattle of Providence and go back to playing repertory." The Brattle is the leading repertory cinema in Cambridge.

If Mansour can guarantee the Avon's security, he'll also do something for the second-run Cable Car, since Bilodeau gets most of his films directly after the Avon. "We have a very complementary relationship," Bilodeau says. "The Avon is larger, and they can gross more initially. We can take up after that and continue the run."

ALTHOUGH THE GROSSES of arthouse fare pale in comparison to that of Hollywood staples, cinema enthusiasts are sometimes willing to go to extremes to help support their favorite theater. When the Jane Pickens Theater in Newport was recently in dire need of renovations (without the funds to make them), local filmgoers organized a benefit dinner/"membership" drive. Attendees paid $30-to-$35 for the event. And in 1992, another membership drive kept the theater from closing. "It's nice to know people care," septuagenarian owner Joe Jarvis told the Newport Daily News.

And for their part, McLaughlin and Dickey say the Avon and Cable Car have nothing to worry about. "Sundance is very much a big supporter of independent film generally, as a film institute," McLaughlin says. "They are talking about having advertising for other arthouse theaters right in their own facility. Sundance is interested in working in conjunction with the Avon and the Cable Car."

Adds Dickey, "Sundance has no intention of negatively impacting the small local arthouse theaters. In fact, we want to collaborate with them. We want to not compete with whatever material they're screening." At the same time, Dickey says, "We haven't gone so far down the road to fully study those local theaters and understand the potential impact."

"Potential impact" is the key here, as no amount of demographics research or projection can exactly pinpoint Providence's receptivity to Sundance and any fall-out, positive or negative, that such a theater might cause. As much as one might find the Cable Car's couches and the Avon's revamped interior charming, so, too, a state-of-the-art cinema devoted to independent, foreign, and documentary film will prove appealing. And when this cinema offers a wine bar and restaurant, with a library adjacent, and a concert on the live performance stage, this could prove irresistible.

Kathleen Hughes can be reached at khughes[a]phx.com.