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 Now That They've Built It, Will The People Come? By Zachary Woodruff LATELY, MOVIE THEATERS and video stores have been working overtime to diversify. Century Park 12 sells coffee and pastries alongside their stomach-clogging jumbo popcorn, while the lobby of downtown's Screening Room doubles as an art gallery. The Pink Motel video store regularly features classic movies, and Casa Video has an espresso bar so you can stay alert during all those hours you wander around desperately trying to remember what you wanted to rent.
What in the ever-loving is going on here? Turns out that 32-year-old Christine Alexander, who owns and manages Christine's Motion Picture with her 63-year-old mother, Connie Sheils, has more than a business plan; she has a vision. "It's about movies, but at the same time it's about social interaction and the mystique of going to the movies. You can have a conversation, smoke, sip a cocktail, and be entertained all at the same time. I'm trying to get away from darkened movie theaters with their commercial, cookie-cutter environments." But that's not all the young entrepreneur is after: "I want to create a situation that's really old school, with a sensuous environment. I want an environment that inspires people to be romantic again, to have manners, to act like gentlemen and ladies." Philosophy aside, Christine's Motion Picture extends logically from Christine and Connie's previous work experience. Connie's an experienced retailer who owned and ran the B. Bizarre women's clothing stores in Tucson for two decades. Christine is an accomplished stage actress who spent several years doing design and decoration in Hollywood (among her recent credits is Kevin Costner's The Postman). In-between movie gigs, she worked as the maitre d' of a posh, L.A. restaurant. No wonder Christine's Motion Picture belongs to so many genres.
"I don't want to turn this into feminist torch-bearing, but suffice to say I think that if I'd been a 50-year-old white man, it wouldn't have taken me four years." While Christine and Connie waited for investors to catch up to their vision, they did everything they could to work up a buzz (as they say in the movie biz) about the new place. Last summer, Tucson was saturated with flyers bearing a photograph of the blonde Christine in the kind of pose you might expect from Drew Barrymore or Madonna: standing in fish-nets, high heels and a miniskirt while gleefully chomping on a cigar. Going further back, Christine's visage was featured on the back page of the '95-'96 Tucson Yellow Pages--that time as a shy-looking woman in a flowing dress, dancing barefoot. So what's with all the photographs of Christine? "All my life I've wanted to be a movie star. One day I decided to just be one," she says. The photographs may be tongue-in-cheek, but Christine's movie aspirations are real: If and when the business takes off, she plans to use Christine's Motion Picture as the financial backbone for her own films, which she will direct, write, and star in. (Christine spends every Sunday, her only day off, working on screenplays with a partner.) On November 22, 1997, Christine's Motion Picture finally caught up with its own hype and opened for business. There wasn't much of a grand opening--no spotlights--because Christine, Connie and staff were (and are) still ironing out operational kinks. These include such fundamental questions as whether to charge admission or require a two-drink minimum (currently, the latter is the case, though it's not enforced), and what sort of food to put on the menu. Perplexed as to what the gift-shop/bistro/ moviehouse experience might be, last week I spent a few evenings at Christine's Motion Picture. My first stop was the weekday CNN happy hour, from 4 to 7 p.m., which proved a comfortable place to catch up on Lewinskygate and read a book. On Saturday evening, the films Touch, Get Shorty, and Bottle Rocket--projected on a big screen from video--provided an endearing backdrop to the millings of the roughly 10 other people in attendance. For a snack, one of the bistro's "Yakiniku Burgers" hit the spot, tasting an awful lot like a Japanese White Castle. Then there was Sunday's X-Files night, during which an impressive number of loyal regulars laughed hysterically every time David Duchovny blinked. For a final taste of the "movie palace" experience, on Wednesday evening I infiltrated a singles group as they mingled and watched When Harry Met Sally. The lights were dim, but I'm pretty sure I spotted love in the air. Given the amount of care Christine has put into every aspect of the presentation, right down to a hand-made chess table and decorative Chinese Terra Cotta Warriors populating the windows between the rooms, the place certainly has an impressive, unique atmosphere. Can it survive in Tucson, with its glut of coffeehouses and multiplexes? Christine is banking on customers who prefer a high-quality environment to the churn-'em-out style of Starbuck's or Century Park 16. "We want this to be a place that's nicer than your own living room, but where you feel just as comfortable." She adds, "We're getting more couches." As for the movie selection, it's every bit as idiosyncratic as you'd expect from a place that sells Day-Glo aromatic soap by the loaf and keeps "slices" in the bathroom for you to test. "I choose every movie," Christine says, "so I'm not showing it if I don't like it. I'm very particular." Upcoming favorites will include Apocalypse Now, The Saint, Carlos Saura's Carmen, Bob Roberts, Reservoir Dogs, What About Bob?, Amadeus, A Face in the Crowd, Jean-Luc Godard's Masculine-Feminine and yes, even The Empire Strikes Back. There are also certain types of films you can expect not to see. "I will never show a film like Leaving Las Vegas or Boogie Nights," says Christine, because she's offended by what's best summed up as those films' romanticized nihilism. "From a philosophical and spiritual standpoint, I find them empty." That doesn't mean she doesn't like a good, violent movie from time to time: Christine counts Reservoir Dogs and Natural Born Killers among her favorites in the Tarantino-style department, and professes admiration for the works of Sam Peckinpah. Christine just hopes movie fans will be able to find Christine's Motion Picture, which has a bit of a location problem now that nearby bars like The Rock and Club 151 have abdicated. Their absence of regular traffic leaves the moviehouse a lonely hideaway in the middle of a mostly residential area. (Historical note: The old building was actually Tucson's Eastside No. 3 firehouse from 1923 to 1953.) Still, it's a short walk from Fourth Avenue hipsterville if you don't mind navigating a few dark streets to get there.
And why not? It's not like you've ever been to a giftshop/movie
theater/coffeehouse before. Christine's Motion Picture, 187 N. Park Ave., is open from 4 to 11 p.m. Sunday through Thursday, and 4 p.m. to 1 a.m. Friday and Saturday. For movie times and other information, call 740-1493.
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Fair enough; diversification is good business. But is Christine's
Motion Picture taking things too far? When you enter Christine's
Motion Picture, it appears to be nothing more than a boutique
full of lotions, glassware, jewelry, clothing, trinkets, doo-dads,
knick-knacks, and other playthings. But walk through a door, and
it becomes a movie theater with a full bar, an honor-system concession
stand, and dozens of comfy chairs. Go through another door, and
it's a quaint coffeehouse/bistro full of games, fancy books and
a convenience rack that has everything from toothpaste and batteries
to condoms and tampons. Oh, and there's store-made Japanese food.
And coming soon, a magazine stand. And a drive-through....
And like a wildly ambitious and un-categorizable Hollywood screenplay,
it's been very difficult to get anybody to take Christine's Motion
Picture seriously, Christine says. It took four years, and as
many as eight extensively rewritten business plans, for Connie
and Christine to land adequate financial backing. Certainly the
unusual business combination played a role, but Christine feels
there were other factors at work.
