Far From Home, a No-Frills Multiplex

In a lush valley 5,000 feet up in the mountains lies this 457-year-old city, dwarfed by the three volcanoes that surround it. Visitors from around the world are drawn here, partly by its beauty and history, but mostly by its 60 Spanish-language schools.

Foreigners spend anywhere from two weeks to two months in Antigua in intensive, one-on-one language training, and eventually they yearn for a break from verb conjugations and pronunciation drills. Which brings many of them to a small storefront a block and a half off the city square to a place called Cinema Bistro.

Cinema Bistro’s fliers, stapled to walls throughout this city of cobblestone streets, advertise three theaters each showing four different movies a day--12 movies in all. For entertainment-hungry visitors, it offers a smorgasbord of options. One day this summer, for example, the selections at Cinema Bistro included “Easy Rider,” “Casablanca,” “The Insider,” “Notting Hill” and “The Buena Vista Social Club.” Hard to find that combo at your local megaplex. Admission is just $1.25 and that includes free popcorn.

But don’t go in expecting stadium seating, Dolby sound or a wide-screen presentation. When my wife and I, who were in Antigua to study Spanish, visited Cinema Bistro one night, our “theater” was a cramped, concrete-walled room, and the seats were plastic lawn chairs. With an electric fan the only air-conditioning, theatergoers fanned themselves and peeled off layers of clothing. A group of Germans and an Australian joined us to watch a well-worn, flickering video of “Boys Don’t Cry,” shown on a television mounted on a table at the front of the room.

On another night, we ventured to Cinema Bistro to see “The Insider” on video. This time, in a different room, we had comfortable stuffed chairs. But we also had an open window, through which came the sounds of fireworks, trucks rumbling down the narrow streets and even, at one point, a small brass band.

There is one “real” movie theater in Antigua, but the movies it showed were so obscure we never went. Those determined to see a new release would have to venture to Guatemala City, about 45 minutes away. One highly advertised film during our stay was Martin Lawrence’s “Mi Abuela Es un Peligro” (My Grandmother Is a Danger). Also known as “Big Momma’s House.”

But why leave town to see a movie when you have a place like Cinema Bistro, which not only calls itself “Antigua’s coziest, friendliest place,” but also promises, “Choose the film if no one else comes to a particular showing”?

It says something about the nature of entertainment in Antigua that moviegoers seem to accept this unusual theater experience without comment. Maybe it’s because so much is different in Antigua.

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The city was founded in 1543 as the seat of the Spanish colonial government and grew to become the most important city in Central America. But a devastating earthquake in 1773 persuaded the powers that be to move the government out of the mountains. It might have been the best thing to happen to Antigua, for today Guatemala City is a sprawling, overcrowded metropolis, while Antigua remains an appealing, small city of 30,000.

The city offers a blend of cultures that defies easy categorization. Descendants of Spanish settlers mix with Indian villagers and with American, European and Japanese visitors. On streets and in parks, colorfully dressed Mayan women and girls, many carrying babies on their backs, sell handmade clothing while carrying impossibly large loads on their heads.

Nearby, foreigners fill up the seats at Internet cafes to check their e-mail. You can eat tortillas and beans at a sidewalk stand, have Domino’s send over a pizza (delivered by motorcycle), or enjoy a luxury meal at a white-tablecloth restaurant.

While Antigua is a bit too big to be called charming, it is not so overrun with foreigners that it has lost its appeal. We enjoyed walking to school in the morning, watching locals heading to their jobs, shops opening up and children in uniforms hurrying to school. In the evening, we often studied in cafes, using our elementary Spanish to order ice cream and snacks.

While there’s not much in the way of standard movie or theater choices in Antigua, the locals have found plenty of ways to make their own entertainment. Antiguans love firecrackers, setting them off at any time, day or night, in almost any place. It’s apparently a tradition to wake up someone on their birthday by igniting firecrackers just outside the person’s bedroom window, a custom that obviously jolts many neighbors awake as well. At an evening festival, we watched in astonishment as a man ran through the crowd with fireworks seemingly exploding right off his body (he was wearing a wooden frame).

Cinema Bistro is not the only video movie house in Antigua. Around the corner, Cinemaya also has three “theaters,” and one night we went there to see the 1994 Guatemalan film “La Hija del Puma” (The Daughter of the Puma).

Before starting the tape, the proprietor advised us not to touch any of the equipment and apologized for the quality of the video. He said they’d tried to get a better copy but couldn’t find one. Indeed, the video was blurry, and the phrase “Screening only” appeared in the top left corner of the picture throughout the film. Sound from a movie in a neighboring room could be heard through the wall.

But such quirks don’t seem to discourage anyone. Every video we saw in Antigua drew a full house of 15 to 25 people, depending on the room.

Although the programs at the video houses change every day, it’s not hard to find out what’s playing--we just had to look for the ubiquitous fliers. My wife met the owner of Cinemaya one day as he walked around the city stapling the latest show schedules on walls and doors, and dropping off piles in cafes, a job that must be done every three or four days. There are no theater parking hassles at either Cinema Bistro or Cinemaya because almost everyone arrives on foot, and besides, there’s no parking lot.

But you have to arrive on time. There are no previews or ads before the feature, so those accustomed to walking into a U.S. theater five or 10 minutes after the advertised show time will find that they’ve missed the start of the movie in Antigua.

All the English-language films were offered with Spanish subtitles, and the few Spanish-language movies had English subtitles. Because we were studying Spanish, it was good practice for us to watch the translations, although the profanities were handled curiously.

For instance, the phrase “Give me a [expletive] break!” was translated as “Por favor!” These were language lessons we didn’t get in class.

On my last day in Guatemala, I got a chance to appear in front of the camera. I went mountain biking with a guided group in the hills outside Antigua, and a TV crew from El Salvador happened to be filming us. As we approached one steep downhill, the crew rode ahead of us to set up for the next shot, then radioed back to our guide something in Spanish that I could only partially make out.

Another rider translated: “Bring ‘em down fast, because if there’s an accident it will be better for the filming.”