June 2023

It’s been a while since I lived in a big city. I’d forgotten what it meant to really explore all the cultural nuances a city can offer. Until yesterday.

I had the good fortune of a friend who’s a Tampa area native invite me along to the kickoff of the summer movie series at the historic Tampa Theater. Since moving to a smaller town in the middle of COVID pandemic, it had been some time since I’d had the opportunity to enjoy a trip to the movies. I immediately and enthusiastically agreed.

I was excited about the outing, but having never been to the Tampa Theater before, I had no idea what to expect other than the obvious: a movie, popcorn, and a seat in a theater.

Upon arriving downtown, I realized immediately what a special experience this was turning out to be. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I looked up at the marquee. I had either walked past, attended a screening or lecture, or performed in the Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor almost every day as an undergraduate student. And now, here in front of me, was this previously undiscovered gem right in the middle of downtown. I couldn’t believe I’d never been here before.

As we headed for the door, we were met by an incredibly friendly and welcoming staff. Up the short walkway into the rotunda we emerged into the main area by the concession stand. The sight took my breath away. Designed to make you feel like you’re watching a film outside, the Spanish-style architecture instantly transports you into an immersive experience.

The soft, red glow of the neon popcorn sign was the only reminder we were still in a movie theater. I stood there gaping for a minute before I realized we were probably blocking the aisle. My friend, who knows me well enough to know how much I was going to completely geek out upon arrival, got us to the theater right as it was opening an hour before showtime so we had plenty of time to explore.

The organist, a throwback to the first days the theater opened during the silent era in 1926, began a delightful concert that ended to very enthusiastic applause from the audience. The Director of Operations came out to introduce the theater and their mission (you can read all about it here), and I was somewhat relieved to discover that I was only one of a few dozen first time Tampa Theater goers in the crowd.

I didn’t think the day could get any better. Then the movie started.

I haven’t seen Fantasia in…honestly, I don’t even know how many years. It’s been a really long time. I remembered watching it as a kid and not having the patience to get past the intermission, but really enjoying the story segment on the “Sorcerer’s Apprentice,” which is arguably the most memorable segment of the entire film since it stars Mickey Mouse.

Now the waves of nostalgia were positively crashing down on top of me. My Mickey themed room I had as a kid with decorative plates featuring scenes from the Sorcerer’s Apprentice. Attending the Nutcracker ballet performance with my family.

Suddenly a child in the row behind us who was maybe four years old belted out a perfect imitation of the trumpet part during the Soundtrack segment while the waveforms were dancing across the screen and then giggled because she knew she’d nailed it. I chuckled slightly, finding incredible joy in her joy.

All the while, I’m gawking at the screen because I know for a fact I did not appreciate the intricacies of animation unfolding before me on the screen up until now. My passion for classical music since childhood apparently hadn’t been enough to hold my attention before, but this time I found myself hanging on every frame of animation in anticipation of what would come next.

The film ended in its brilliant, animated sparkle of a sunrise over the countryside with the last notes of Ave Maria fading into the background. I was struck and surprised at first by such a powerful visual as a subtext for optimism. Putting the film in proper historical context made it less surprising once I considered what an eternal optimist Walt Disney was (about practically everything) and that in 1940 the world needed as much optimism as it could possibly get.

I couldn’t have asked for a better film to see or a better overall experience for my first adventure to the Tampa Theater. It was a perfect reminder that not only are people of all generations eager to share these types of social experiences, but that as filmmakers it’s okay to try something new. Not everything we make has to fit inside of that “Hollywood” box we’ve all become so accustomed to. Like Walt, we just have to keep creating and sharing those creations.