The Castro Theater is truly an institution. As you crest over Castro Street hills, whether from Noe Valley or Duboce Triangle, there the sign shines like a beacon, announcing the neighborhood's exuberance from miles away. What a wonderful bit of decadence that marvelous sign is and it's truly a preview to what waits inside.

I bought my ticket for the 7:00 show, but arrived at 6:15 to get snacks and listen to the Mighty Wurlitzer, the illustrious organ played by an elderly fellow in a tweed sports-coat and a rather bad looking toupee. But before I even enter the theater, I must peruse the snack counter. Snacks make the movie a bit more cuddly and, more importantly, add some very necessary revenue to the movie theather. Money from ticket sales goes to pay for renting the actual film, so most independent movie houses, like the Castro make money from the concession stand. And I was more than willing to donate a few bucks to keep the Castro up and running. I chose a medium popcorn with real butter--one of the ultimate thrills of going to the Castro. Real mouthwatering buttered popcorn. I'm sure they would serve it in heaven.

I then entered the theater just to hear the organ play San Francisico and watch the organ slowly melt down into the stage, with the audience happily clapping to the music. There is something so community-oriented about the Castro--that the Kabuki could only dream of having. Once I went for the annual annimation festival and found the audience batting around huge multi-colored beach-balls and this lovely drag queen offered me a seat next to her. Such a charming lady....

Anyway, I picked my seat quickly, so I could ooh and aaah over the exquisite paintings on the walls. As soon as you take your seat, lean back and gaze around to see some of the finest early art deco wall paintings in San Francisco. There is just enough gilt on the columns to make the room almost shimmer.

As the movie progressed and I began to focus on the story line, I couldn't help but begin to twitch in my seat. The seats albeit charming in their little art-deco way, are not, how shall we say, ergonomically correct. But the body forgets pain and as you leave the Castro, your mind only recalls the movie and the sweet charm of the Castro.

It gets my highest rating.

Leslie Dotson

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