Cobble Hill Cinemas, formerly known as the Lido and then as the Rio, feels a little bit like every movie theater you have ever been to. The air is slightly hazy with buttered popcorn dust, framed covers of old Photoplays jostle for attention with advertisements for dopey new rom-coms and a bank of gumball machines stands against one wall.
Cobble Hill is neither a multiplex nor a movie palace; the lobby is gussied up with gold paint, art deco plasterwork and rococo clouds, but its proportions are so small that patrons must wait on the sidewalk if they arrive more than 15 minutes before a show’s scheduled start time. There is a homespun quality to the place, its walls adorned with slightly clumsy murals of Charlie Chaplin and Groucho Marx. It seems, in other words, like a memory, like the kind of place that must have closed down a decade or two (or three) ago. Read More