Fate of the Boyd Uncertain, Again

Months ago, at the height of an effort to save Philadelphia's last surviving movie palace, the Historical Commission proved that it knows as little about history as it does preservation by approving the demolition of the Boyd's auditorium.

Neil Rodin promised he'd deliver us an iPic movie theater if Live Nation, its previous owner, cleared the way. Now that the auditorium, perhaps the building's most worthy attribute, is nearly gone, Rodin is out of the picture and the property has been purchased by Pearl.

Pearl Properties pitched a sky scraping apartment building for the now-vacant corner of 19th and Chestnut last summer, but its height and density upset neighbors. Now that it owns the Boyd, the art deco-ish apartment tower can be built without the headache of a zoning variance. 

So what about the Boyd? Well, Hamid Hashemi of iPic insists that it's still interested in leasing the Boyd from Pearl, but Inga Saffron pointed out Friday that iPic could only afford Rodin's cheap rent, and that Pearl has no interest in the movie business. 

Of all the theaters that graced Philadelphia with the birth of celluloid, it's a shame that the Boyd is the only to survive. While its auditorium is indeed beautiful, the only protected piece - its facade - is the building's least interesting attribute. 

As for the historic building, its classification only protects the facade, one that would complement Pearl's proposed tower. But at this point, does it matter? Unless Pearl intends to restore the Boyd's lobby and incorporate it into the tower as its entrance, the theater's face is its least interesting piece. Like ghost structures and shadow walls, salvaged facades can be bitter reminders of history we lost.

Even if Pearl is willing to entertain iPic's proposal and match Rodin's low rent offer, it seems like a poor business move. In fact, iPic's general business model seems like it's designed to fail, or at best, it's not sustainable. Blankets and recliners aren't innovative ways to draw fleeing viewers back to the silver screen. That's like putting a coffee shop in a Blockbuster then doubling the rental price in exchange for the experience. 

If I want to cozy up to a movie, I've got Netflix and a cat at home. I'm not going to spend twenty plus dollars to fall asleep in a room full of strangers. 

As a vintage movie theater, the Boyd's original auditorium would have offered something unique, and the vacant lot next door could have been annexed to provide another screen or two. iPic's bandaid approach to its dying industry never had a realistic future on Chestnut Street, and unless it begins to understand why Millennials would rather watch College Humor on their iPhones than sit in a movie theater for three hours, it doesn't have a future in the business.

Hollywood isn't going anywhere, but how we access it is changing. Offering amenities isn't the solution, it may just stave off the demise for another decade. Like print journalism, the movie theater we've known for a century is on its way out. What's next is anyone's guess, but iPic doesn't have it.

Last Call for Gritty Philly?

As the blogosphere buzzes with the promise of Avenue of the Arts improvements and a revived Gallery at Market East, Philadelphia's most dedicated architecture and development nerds have taken a peculiar interest in a neon clad corner of Center City, a relic of the days of disco and debauchery that mysteriously lingered into the 21st Century.

The Forum Theater's presence at 23rd and Market Street managed to anger its new neighbors in the luxury condos at the Murano, while standing as little more than wallpaper, virtually unseen by tenured Philadelphians in the surrounding neighborhoods and universities.

The Forum Theater before its closure, under the luxury condo building, The Murano

But why is the closure of the Forum Theater relevant? This little porn palace opened in 1975, an era in Philadelphia's history both reviled and beloved for the same reasons. The grit.

If you're not old enough to remember Center City before Liberty Place pointed its middle finger at William Penn, take a look at the opening of Trading Places or the famous jogging scene in Rocky. Neither montage is the product of poor film quality. The 70s and 80s really were that dirty.

The opening sequence from Trading Places shows another Philadelphia.

The reason the Forum's existence blended into the background for lifelong Philadelphians is simply because, relatively recently, adult bookstores and porn theaters occupied prominent real estate. Before a Marriott occupied a block of Market East, a large theater stood in the shadow of City Hall. As recent as the Convention Center's expansion, two adult bookstores managed to find customers on Arch Street. The Full Moon Saloon's sign branded 13th Street next to a swanky wine bar until only a few years ago.

While a number of seedy bathhouses, theaters, and porn shops can still be found in Center City, either in the shadows of narrow streets in the Gayborhood, or as niche boutiques catering to drunk frat guys on a South Street drinking binge, the tide has clearly turned.

While the pre-90s urban economic climate allowed nearly any business model to modestly profit and urban renewal successes have elevated our storefront expectations, the internet is an equally obvious blame for the Forum's closure. But there are other factors at work.

Imagine a remake of Adventures in Babysitting if you want to see how the new urban experience has influenced our larger cities and who that experience caters to. Elizabeth Shue wouldn't find hookers on the streets of Chicago. She'd find families pushing their strollers through Millennium Park and late night shopping on Michigan Avenue.

The new city has spread across the country. It turned Times Square into a family-friendly Mall of America. And, despite Center City Sips and a humble condo boom, the Forum's closure signals its final arrival in Philadelphia.

The Full Moon Saloon was a strip club on 13th Street. The sign remained next to Vintage wine bar until a few years ago. Danny's adult shop still remains, largely as a novelty boutique.

Of course the closure of these businesses hasn't eradicated the market for smut. Porn still accounts for the vast majority of the internet. The new urban experience is simply a farce, home to hypocrites who plead, "Please, think of the children!" on message boards while flirting with old high school boyfriends on Facebook.

It allows self proclaimed liberals to exercise their prejudices under the guise of responsibility, while patting themselves on the back for being tolerant enough to raise their kids in the Gayborhood. It gives the "socially responsible" enormous power over businesses as unsavory as the Forum, but also as benign as local bars.

The fire of urban renewal was sparked by an eccentric crew of diversity. Artists found cheap spaces to work, gay communities created enclaves of acceptance, and a large population saw a canvas of unappreciated architecture and history. Perhaps the only thing that the first wave of urban pioneers had in common was a blind eye to their neighbors' private lives. That's tolerance.

Signatures, a well known strip club at 13th and Locust, is now home to the upscale daycare center, Nest, and Green Eggs Café.

The Forum's closure was not without its own missteps. The owner is allegedly in debt and the property is simply worth too much to much to justify its presence amongst pricey condos and apartments.

But whether of not you would have ever set foot in a place as insidious as the Forum Theater, it's closure - at least in part - is an indication that the real urban pioneers have reluctantly passed the torch to the suburban refugees standing in line outside Green Eggs Café, a Benetton billboard that equates driving a Prius, donning an Obama button, and having one "gay friend" with tolerance an diversity, applauding themselves for revitalizing their community by closing businesses that cater to those that made the city the uniquely gritty and colorful place that it is...or was.