It used to be a movie-going rite of passage to sit down at the movie theater find one's feet planted in an adherent of perplexing origin. The Kent Theater in Brooklyn is far from the exception: it may very well be the nexus of movie theater gunk. The La Brea Tar Pits of Kings County movie-going. If you think you can't connect with the history in this place, it's probably stuck to your sneakers.
Located on a wildly diverse stretch of land in Midwood called Coney Island Avenue, The Kent splits turf with, among other businesses, a kosher gym, roughly 5,000 hookah merchants and countless Judaica specialty shops. Try as they may, none of those other businesses possess the nostalgia invoking power of The Kent.
The Kent harkens back to an earlier time in pre-Giuliani New York when ramshackle movie houses thrived under the lax quality of life stewardship of Mayors Lindsay, Koch and Dinkins. In 1994, hellbent on diluting the character of New York, which was intrinsically tied to filthy movie theaters patronized by unshaven perverts in ratty trench coats (RIP Grandpa), newly elected Mayor Giuliani embarked on a crusade to rid New York of so-called "smut."
Clusters of New York's seedy celluloid castles were shuttered by way of city ordinance, leaving their dark princes dethroned and without a kingdom in which they could wave their mighty staffs beneath soiled London Fog robes. In place of the theaters, businesses of the kid-friendly variety were erected in homage to the new prince of 42nd Street: Mickey Mouse.
"Disneyfication" became a zeitgeist term to describe the cleansing of Manhattan's red light district by way of Buena Vista. A beaming Mayor Giuliani touted the arrival of the city's renaissance when in reality, he did little more than replace homegrown porn palaces with Mickey's mouse droppings. And that was it. In one fell swoop, a piece of the Manhattan I knew was gone forever, doomed into extinction by an imp with a bully pulpit.
Dirty theaters vanished from the New York landscape because the city's democratically elected custodian felt morally compelled absolve our sins and rescue us from vice. And who better to cleanse our tarnished souls than Giuliani, a man who:
1) Was married to his second cousin for 14 years.
2) Gave a key to the city to a young Yankees fan who interfered in a playoff game, costing the Baltimore Orioles their only legitimate shot at not sucking in a very long time.
3) Ignored a law barring public officials from receiving gifts in excess of $50 when he accepted 4 world series rings, collectively valued at $200,000, from the Yankees organization.
But what does any of this have to do with the Kent? While the Kent is certainly not a "dirty theater" it's a dirty theater. It's a "dirty theater's" more well-behaved cousin but with a comparably alarming level of structural disrepair. It maintains no vestige of its former greatness; I'm pretty sure it always looked like a dingy flophouse.
What does The Kent have to offer? It gives people an affordable option in the face of skyrocketing inflation, growing unemployment and a misconception that the movie-going public needs to shell out 15 bucks a head to enjoy superfluous technological amenities like surround sound, 3D and IMAX. Have I mentioned the popcorn? It's cheap, too. And it will kill you no faster than the same popcorn at the IMAX that's burning a hole in your stomach AND your pocket.
My only requirement to enjoy a movie is that it be screened in a dark room, surrounded by strangers--and by strangers, I do not mean bedbugs, a species that seems to fancy the bluer blooded clientele at more expensive theaters. I'm perfectly content with The Kent. Unfortunately, it's a dying breed. See it while you can still see it. read more