Closed since early 2000, the theater was just bought by Fred Eric, a prominent L.A. restaurant operator, who plans to reopen it and convert the 99 cent store next door into a diner, a la his Fred 62 over in Los Feliz. Rumor has it that the theater itself will offer food service.
Recently featured in “Pearl Harbor,” as was the coffeehouse next door. A delightful place to visit for their periodic series of Friday night films. The seats, by the way, are in the colors of the Mexican flag, dating back to the theater’s last days as a Spanish-language house.
Very few original features remain; you’d be hard-pressed to realize initially that this theater even pre-dates the ‘80s. Beware: The place was divided up rather haphazardly and projection varies wildly from theater to theater. But there aren’t many discount second-run arthouse sixplexes around, so maybe we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
One of the last major events here, and no doubt one of its last full houses, was the world premiere of Alex Cox’s “Straight to Hell,” which brought out quite an interesting crowd of Hollywood hepcats, none of them paying the slightest attention to the awful film.
This former single screener was triplexed in the early ‘90s. When you call their recording, they tell you which film is playing on the big screen—i.e., the one that sits where the original screen did, although there are now a minimal number of rows in front of it and you may find yourself craning your neck. Happily, the theater’s best feature, its marquee, was maintained in the conversion. The nearby Vista is, of course, the real gem of the neighborhood.
Contrary to the description, the Mayan hasn’t been used for the Last Remaining Seats series, at least not since I started attending in the late ‘80s or early '90s. As far as I know, there haven’t been any films shown there since the nightclub conversion. The place is definitely worth a visit, no matter what’s booked there for the night. The interior has a wonderfully garish paint job that I understand is far more extreme than any color scheme the hall actually had in its original glory days.
Closed since early 2000, the theater was just bought by Fred Eric, a prominent L.A. restaurant operator, who plans to reopen it and convert the 99 cent store next door into a diner, a la his Fred 62 over in Los Feliz. Rumor has it that the theater itself will offer food service.
Recently featured in “Pearl Harbor,” as was the coffeehouse next door. A delightful place to visit for their periodic series of Friday night films. The seats, by the way, are in the colors of the Mexican flag, dating back to the theater’s last days as a Spanish-language house.
Very few original features remain; you’d be hard-pressed to realize initially that this theater even pre-dates the ‘80s. Beware: The place was divided up rather haphazardly and projection varies wildly from theater to theater. But there aren’t many discount second-run arthouse sixplexes around, so maybe we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
Part of the early ‘80s Richard Gere film “Breathless” was shot here.
One of the last major events here, and no doubt one of its last full houses, was the world premiere of Alex Cox’s “Straight to Hell,” which brought out quite an interesting crowd of Hollywood hepcats, none of them paying the slightest attention to the awful film.
This former single screener was triplexed in the early ‘90s. When you call their recording, they tell you which film is playing on the big screen—i.e., the one that sits where the original screen did, although there are now a minimal number of rows in front of it and you may find yourself craning your neck. Happily, the theater’s best feature, its marquee, was maintained in the conversion. The nearby Vista is, of course, the real gem of the neighborhood.
Contrary to the description, the Mayan hasn’t been used for the Last Remaining Seats series, at least not since I started attending in the late ‘80s or early '90s. As far as I know, there haven’t been any films shown there since the nightclub conversion. The place is definitely worth a visit, no matter what’s booked there for the night. The interior has a wonderfully garish paint job that I understand is far more extreme than any color scheme the hall actually had in its original glory days.