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Sense and Sensibility
By Todd Inoue
The grand opening of the UA Theatre Pavilion last Friday had all the elements of a grand evening: a radio station giving away free stuff, twirling searchlights, a strolling sax player, happy families, and protesters.
Protesters? No, it wasn't a group of Pauly Shore fans venting after another Academy snub. This bunch consisted of disgruntled, evicted Pavilion merchants who made their displeasure with the City Council and Redevelopment czar Frank Taylor known.
Outfitted with T-shirts emblazoned with anti-Pat Dando and David Pandori slogans, representatives of the "Pavilion Five" walked a steady circle around the theater entrance, ringing bells, waving "Boycott UA" signs, and passing out pamphlets attached with a packet of jelly beans--to represent the "spineless jellies who voted 'no' on saving downtown small business and 'yes' to $4.6 million taxpayer-subsidized 'bread and circus' movie palaces."
The protesters feel they've been jerked by the Pavilion, who evicted five longtime businesses last August to make room for the UA and a multimedia game park called UA Starport, set to open in mid-summer. The sign carriers felt Redevelopment and the council kowtowed to big businesses.
"We represent minority business owners who have been here for three to four years," said Abdul Hmedian, former proprietor of Frosty Yogurt and a rally participant. "We've asked the City Council and the mayor to help us, and they've done nothing."
The drama outside was brave at heart, but did little to appeal to filmgoers' sense and sensibilities. After all, there were movies to see and popcorn to buy in the brand- new theater.
Ah yes, the new theater, all
The view over downtown is extraordinary and the amenities are, overall, superb. Lots of leg room, a dope DTX sound system--the UA Pavilion is like the Shoreline Amphitheater of movie palaces.
But unlike Shoreline, there's nobody telling you where to go. There's a big need for ushers here. The only directions came from the bottom-floor greeter, who tore tickets and then rattled off quick directions with the expertise of a Gilroy gas-station attendant.
In the event that memory should fail about which theater one is returning to--despite the glare of the dozen or so escalator cameras that project patrons' images on eight screens outside--ushers need to be positioned somewhere at the top of each staircase. The way it was set up Friday night, theater jumpers could have had a field day.
Am I the only one to think of these things? Here's more in the delinquent department: The third-floor mezzanine offers excellent opportunities to divebomb ground-floor patrons with Whoppers. UA personnel will also find problems with daredevils who glide down the long, polished handrails. The Arena saw too many inebriated hockey fans attempting this date-impressing feat, and now ushers regularly stand guard at the entrances. Again, a few more ushers at the UA could intercept potential Jackie Chan stunt imitators.
Ticket lines stretched long and into the night. Moviegoers were able to corral parking in two of three nearby garages for 7:30 shows and get comped four hours at the validation machine. Nice. The parking lots were filled by 9pm, due to the early-arriving San Jose Live! crowd.
Light rail is still the best way to reach the theater; the stop is some 40 yards away, and service runs until 1am. Bike riders are afforded fewer opportunities, with room for only three bikes, located next to the Pavilion elevator.
If the vociferous protests appeal to your sympathies, the Camera Cinemas are right down the block. But if you plan to attend a movie at downtown San Jose's newest tourist attraction, don't forget to hold little hands around the light rail tracks and warn them about accepting candy from strangers. "We'll be here every weekend," a protester promised.
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Of spineless jellies, whopper launching, and the best theater amenities our money can buy
$11 million dollars of it. The white Legoland exterior. Plush carpeting imported from the finest casinos of Las Vegas. Screens smaller than your living room wall. Bathrooms clean as a dentist's office, but without baby-changing stands in the men's room. Popcorn lines at the ground floor were long, but lines at the second- and third-floor snack shacks were non-existent.
From the Feb. 22-28, 1996 issue of Metro
Copyright© 1996 Metro Publishing and Virtual Valley, Inc.