The iconic Castro Theatre, which is in dire need of investment and restoration inside and out, has become the latest flash point in San Francisco’s culture fight.
Put another way, it’s the focus of anguish about a changing venue, a changing community, and a changing city. Put yet another way, it’s a justification for some folks to rant and rave about the things they personally want, from favorite movie revivals to curbing rapacious capitalism.
Let us set aside the fact that the theater, designed by native son Timothy Pfleuger, has been family-owned for 100 years. Families, as we all know, can be particular.
The Nasser family, for its own reasons, decided to lease the place early last year to Berkeley-based Another Planet Entertainment, live event specialists and producers of the Outside Lands festival. There’s no public money or property involved.
Another Planet has committed $15 million to renovate the theater, add more live shows, and keep some of the programming as film. Let us also set aside the fact that no one else has emerged with hard money to fix up a basket case, with its outdated bathrooms, busted HVAC system, and inadequate access for the disabled — for starters.
There are fixtures, frescoes, chandeliers, and so on awaiting costly restoration. The namesake blade sign on the street also needs repair. But someone is stepping up, and that’s for the better, right?
According to certain quarters, wrong. Opponents point to an alternative by the Castro Theatre Conservancy, the group that says it! has! a great! plan to raise $20 million to $40 million over three years. Again, for reasons of its own, the Nasser family has rebuffed the offer. Nevertheless, the battle lines were drawn.
Scene and herd
Advocates proclaiming “save the seats” and attacking Another Planet’s plans were not giving up from getting what they wanted in a venue they see as theirs. This spring, opponents of Another Planet, along with plenty of supporters, mobbed the Board of Supervisors, first in committee, and provided comments for hours.
Proponents said Another Planet was going to help the Castro thrive anew, while detractors sought to maintain the theater’s “fixed theatrical seating configured in movie-palace style,” because installing movable seats to make standing room would rip the soul out of the venue. (Check out the Castro Theatre’s renovation plans here, featuring video of the “state-of-the-art motorized raked floor.”)
Catastrophizing the change worked early on: In April, a committee vote led by Sup. Dean Preston added language to the interior landmarking legislation that would preserve the seats.
When the matter reached the full board earlier this month, Sup. Rafael Mandelman — who represents District 8, including the Castro — asked for specific language about the fixed seating to be removed. Sup. Aaron Peskin, a progressive like Preston, invoked Harvey Milk and asserted that Another Planet and its supporters had spent money to sow division.
It must be noted that Peskin, not known for verbal restraint, has been slagging Another Planet for months. In the April committee hearings, he called Another Planet a “300-pound gorilla” and questioned its business model: “I don’t think it’s that expensive to run a movie theater.” In his characteristically diplomatic discourse, he added: “Don’t be yelling at me when this whole deal tanks. Just saying.”
Yet Peskin and his progressive allies fell short. Six supervisors said the fixed seats did not need to be part of the interior landmarking, with Preston, Peskin, Connie Chan and Shamann Walton voting in the dissent. (Sup. Hillary Ronen was absent.) You’d think that would be the end of it, but that would be wrong.
Who needs a drink?
On Thursday last week, a special joint meeting of the city’s Planning Commission and the Historic Preservation Commission considered Another Planet’s proposal for a nighttime entertainment permit to open a bar on the theater’s second floor, so Castro patrons can go upstairs and buy, you know, a drink.
As with the supervisors’ hearings, the public statements droned on for hours. Supporters looked ahead to the Castro’s future, its next 100 years. Opponents declared the owning family, Another Planet, and others of profiteering at their personal expense. Then around 5 pm, the sausage started getting made. The commission began to work out what conditions the city could require in exchange for approval.
Detractors, for example, wanted the operator to meet regularly with LGBTQ+ groups. Planning commissioner Theresa Imperial lectured that Another Planet needed to “not simply have a meeting, but really listen,” plus call their mother once in a while. (I made that last part up.) They eventually settled on two meetings a year.
In addition, critics wanted the venue’s concessions sourced from local merchants. Another Planet protested that the bulk of its sales are soft drinks and popcorn. No one in the neighborhood makes Coca-Cola or supplies popcorn, unfortunately, but coffee — that’s a local brew and the company said it already sells that.
After 6 pm, Jen Reck, co-chair of the Castro LGBTQ Cultural District, came back to the podium and said she was “disappointed” with the process and with Another Planet, which has pushed back on nearly every “simple” request. (Let us set aside the fact that SF’s process is often abused.)
Commissioner Kathrin Moore also expressed disappointment about the proposal, Another Planet’s lack of a “can-do” attitude, and “the monetizing of cultural assets.” Let us set aside, for the final time, that we’re talking about whether or not to landmark fixed seating in a deteriorating building. Seven and a half hours after convening, the commission voted 4 to 2 to approve Another Planet’s conditional use with modifications. (Moore and Imperial dissented.)
House of the holy
I’ve tuned into nearly all the Castro proceedings this year. As I listened to the latest marathon meeting, one comment was striking. Someone said that the Castro Theatre was their church, their sacred space. I believe this person, just as I believe the many voices who have said the same thing. The Castro is an extraordinary and special place (I can remember every time I’ve been there), just like churches or temples are icons and sacred community spaces to their members.
But try telling a place of worship what to do with its pews. Not a single person with an opinion on the fate of the Castro would ever do that. The first freedom enshrined in the First Amendment of the Constitution is for religion, and there’s nothing in there about extra bars or movable seats.
What’s more, tons of people around the world tithe or volunteer for their church, temple, mosque, or faith group. Because when people really value their community, you see them putting money and energy into it. Instead of complaining about not getting what they want — checking off items from a virtuous but improbable checklist, like buying snacks wholesale from the neighborhood — maybe Another Planet’s antagonists could work to build something. And if people and local groups really think a movie house builds culture and community, here’s a novel idea: Buy one. There’s one sitting empty right now, in a prime SF location, begging for some TLC.
When the same passionate folks commit to that work, and start going through the grind of getting approvals and nailing down agreements, that will be progress. I for one will be rooting for them, because that’s not about what we all in the city want, but what we need.
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