Popcorn loses top billing at stylish new theatres

Ijust visited the Excentris cinema, a stylish movie house on the Main that recently reopened after being closed for a long while.

The theatre is back to showing classy Hollywood and foreign films but this time there’s one massive change: It’s actually permitting – gasp! – popcorn.

For years the place banned the stuff because its owner thought the sound and smell of popcorn ruined a film’s flavour. In fact, popcorn has traditionally been forbidden at the Montreal International Film Fest, too, where czar Serge Losique has hated the crunch and stench of the stuff.

But after years of losing money, Excentris cinema has finally surrendered to the power of popcorn – and when I was there, the customers were buying.

The fact is popcorn and movies go together like fries and ketchup. At most cinemas, crowds line up for bathtub-sized portions of popcorn, washed down with garbage-can-sized soft drinks.

A popcorn and bottled water will set you back about the same price as a film, and that’s why most theatre owners love selling it. Almost 40 per cent of their money comes from food, so the profit is in the popcorn – and the more, the better.

You can’t even get a small size anymore – unless you ask for a child’s portion.

Part of popcorn’s success is that famished North Americans can’t last two hours without food. They get a snack attack and need survival rations. Another part is nostalgia – the taste of our childhood movies. It’s the only place I ever touch the stuff and I’ve eaten it even when it’s been stale.

But why popcorn? How did this greasy, smelly, noisy snack become the official food of film?

The story goes back to the dawn of cinemas in the 1920s, when sidewalk vendors pushed popcorn carts through city streets and stopped outside movie houses. Audiences poured out to buy it and, eventually, theatre owners decided they’d make the popcorn – and the money, too.

At first it didn’t matter if someone beside you was munching loudly (or talking) because films were silent. But by the time “talkies” arrived, popcorn and movies went together like baseball and hotdogs, or Stanley Cups and riots.

Since then, the habit has spread ’round the world. I’ve eaten sweet popcorn with beer in German theatres, curry-flavoured popcorn in Indian cinemas and barbecue paprika popcorn in Thailand.

It’s all because of those early street vendors. If they’d been selling chips or pretzels or pickles, that’s what we’d be munching in movies today.

“Will that be half sours or garlic dill with your film, sir? With cheddar powder topping or garlic- flavoured powder?”

The Toronto film fest doesn’t just serve popcorn – it worships the stuff. It officially opened last year’s festival by exploding 1,000 boxes of popcorn at the airport luggage carousel when film stars arrived.

Meanwhile, Montreal’s festival has sunk steadily over the years as Toronto’s pops. Could the secret difference have been the popcorn?

Perhaps it’s time we boldly embraced the stuff, too. After all, popcorn is a genuine part of movie history that goes back almost as far as film. Maybe we should rename our film fest “The Montreal International Festival of Popcorn – and Cinema.” Take that, Toronto! Alternatively, we could come up with a good alternative to popcorn and all that other movie junk food.

Much of Europe lets you take beer and wine to your seat (with your popcorn). In the U.S., stylish new theatres are now selling all kinds of gourmet movie food.

The AMC in Atlanta offers mango margaritas to take to your seat, while Kansas City serves wine-poached shrimp and Thai lobster rolls. I visited a theatre in Washington that served shredded duck tacos and truffle fries along with “gourmet popcorn” that had even more calories than regular.

There were waiters who came to your seat before the film to recite the menu (I ordered the “Japanese Wagyu” beef burger). I bought a seat in the “plus” section, a kind of first-class area with reclining chairs and a leg rest.

My server was available during the whole movie, offering everything from wine and cheese to champagne and popcorn.

Many U.S. theatres are also opening fancy separate restaurants so you can go for dinner and a movie – at the movies. Cinemas are transforming into dinner theatres and it all started with those popcorn vendors.

What next? Will movie theatres have private rooms with box seats like sports stadiums do, so business patrons can drink cocktails, eat lobster and make phone calls? Or press the pause button on the film, like at home?

The future of movie dining is changing and it may be coming our way soon. So let’s come up with a new sophisticated movie food that’s distinctively ours.

Anyone for popcorn poutine?