Carter's Review

In recent years, community groups have attacked just about anything that stands up in their turf and have extended their concept of no-nos from tall buildings to night clubs, loud music, and smoking.

Fortunately, the folks in Williamsburg haven't focused yet on "bright lights" and a little Times Square razzle-dazzle.

And well they shouldn't for every world-famous neighborhood needs its own entertainment district, its electronic hearth, its communal heart.

We are not talking suburban shopping strips, but quirky evidence of benevolent humor and thought, nothing less than urban design!

After all, what are innocuous five-story mid-block buildings for?

At 136 Metropolitan Avenue in Williamsburg they are for a small, two-story movie theater beneath three floors with nine rental apartments.

This is no "movie palace" where the pop-corn, multiplexing leviathans drain the wallets of poor families. It's three small theaters.

This project is a conversion of a former low-rise commercial property and what makes it unusual is not the brown façade of the Cassandra Cinema but the gray façade of the three residential floors in which are embedded a lot of white-colored LEDs designed by Caliper Studio.

This light show is no demure rip-off of the great Porter House on the southeast corner of Ninth Avenue and 15th Street in Chelsea in Manhattan where some random vertical light strips have converted a rooftop residential addition to a major but discrete urban lighthouse.

This is zinc mayhem, albeit contained and small and not rectilinear.

An article by Joey with a nighttime picture of the building's exterior ran at curbed.com February 18, 2009 and elicited many comments.

One commenter said he hopes "it becomes a new Times Square!" but the next commenter said "the façade is a bit obnoxious, but I don't think it's an indicator of what's to come for Williamsburg...this type of garbage only flies in Times Square."

Another commenter thought it was "amazing" and "a good direction," while yet another thought it was "utilizing the original structure like a tacky Christmas tree...too many lights, not consistent with the neighborhood's vibe."

The next "guest" defined that "vibe" as "hipster hotties, tight jeans, irony, trust funds, cigarettes, flannel shirts, not LED infested façades however."

Nothing like a good running commentary, of course, and the last one lead to the following reply:

"he/she probably thinks Williamsburg is too cool for something glitzy like this - but what he/she doesn't seem to understand the edgy Williamsburg died about 15 years ago - now it is like an amusement park for all who look and dress alike while thinking of themselves as 'independent souls - this place fits right in."

Most of the comments were in favor of the flamboyance.

"I think it is an improvement on all the vinyl siding. I like it. I would be pretty pissed though if this went up across the street from my bedroom window."

You get the feeling that many of the commenters watched too many film noirs on Turner Classic Movies: "I would bet that a cigarette smoking trust fund is supporting the construction of this building somewhere along the line." (Guest #16)

And #35 philosophized that "a movie theater in a neighborhood where there is no nighttime recreation other than drinking is welcomed by me" although one wonders about playing cards or holding hands.

A September 19, 2008 article at observer.com by Leigh Kamping-Carder maintained that "Since 2002, Williamsburg-Greenpoint has lived without a movie theater," adding that "The absence is especially surprising given the area's history of film exhibition: At one point, the neighborhoods boasted six movie theaters in less than five square miles. But since the 1950s, the theaters have been slowly disappearing, converted to other uses or demolished....Vestiges of the old movie houses remain. The American Theatre at 910 Manhattan Avenue, later renamed the Chopin, became Greenpoint's first Starbucks. The building still bears the original marquee. The Meserole Theatre, further along Manhattan, transformed into a roller rink and then a Rite Aid (hence the disco ball hanging over the diapers and shampoo). The last theater to fall was the Commodore, at 329 Broadway, which closed its doors in 2002 and was torn down in early 2007."

"But, fear not! Relief comes in the form of the Cassandra Cinema, an entertainment complex currently under construction in Williamsburg," she wrote, adding that program director James Hook said that "There's a very palpable sense on the street that one of the great things that's lacking in Williamsburg is a cinema," adding that "As people have gotten wind of this, they've thanked me on subways."

"A cabaret, a caf¿, and three screens - a 168-seater marquee; an overflow black box theater; and a squareish screen that will show repertory films one floor below - round out the rest of the facilities. 'We are trying to do a cinema in a different way," wrote the artistic director, Mason Rader."

"The project is the brainchild of Mr. Rader and executive director Cassandra Lozano, who moved to Williamsburg in 1989. The couple has long been active in New York's artistic community, although they no longer live in the neighborhood," the article noted.

The project was originally called the Brooklyn Kinetiscope and Mr. Hook told The Observer that he saw the venture as "a mom-and-pop theater for the 21st Street."

A. J. Loeffler of the Brooklyn Architects Collaborative" was the project architect and Kenneth G. Walsh of 44 West 18th Associates is listed as the owned in city documents.

The building is also known as 103-5 1st Street.