Friday, April 10, 2026

Lisa Laman FINALLY Found An AMC Location She Likes

I don't like fascism. I ain't a fan of Burger King's crummy food. And I certainly don't like AMC Theatres locations.

Perhaps that AMC distaste is based around a silly sense of "hometown" pride. I grew up in the Plano/Allen, TX area where the only nearby theaters were Cinemark locales. AMC multiplexes existed, but you had to drive 30-45 minutes to get to the ones in Dallas and Frisco. Meanwhile, Front Row Joe, the XD auditoriums, and Cinemark Legacy's Charlie Chaplin statue were all less than 10 minutes from my house. I grew up on Cinemark, which always projected films efficiently with no technological hassle and constantly delivered the yummiest popcorn imaginable. 

That didn't mean I turned up my nose at the chance to visit Studio Movie Grill, iPic, Moviehouse Eatery, Alamo Drafthouse's, or other nearby theaters. However, Cinemark was king. Perhaps that loyalty and familiarity informed my AMC disdain.

Still, doing some Googling, it's clear others feel passionately about AMC being the worst. David Ehlrich repeatedly used AMC as a go-to reference to the nadir of cinematic experiences in his recent IndieWire piece about Alamo Drafthouse's dismal modern form. Surely all these people couldn't have had the same Cinemark-centric upbringing as me! Perhaps they've also endured the bad theatrical experiences I've encountered in my time at AMC locations. Like the time I saw Evil Dead Rise and they kept the lights on for the first half of the feature (who needs darkness for a horror film?). Or when I saw The Wedding Banquet last year, and the audio in the theater made it sound tinny and distant. Don't forget when I saw Hoppers in IMAX a month ago, and the lights remained on for the first five minutes (including the looming, vibrantly bright IMAX logo on one of the side walls).

It's not just technical shortcomings that have informed my AMC hostility. It's also food. Only get pre-packaged candy at an AMC location, good Christ. For some reason, this is the one theater chain on the planet that can't make edible popcorn. A reliably yummy treat at the Angelika Dallas, Texas Theatre, or any other big screen location is cardboard at an AMC theater. Meanwhile, I still have nightmares about innocently chomping on AMC chicken fingers during my IMAX Star Trek Into Darkness screening...only to then spend the next day vomiting the "delicacy" up.

Let me be clear, by the way: any of the employees I've encountered at AMC locations have been the nicest people, doing their best and hardest to make the theatrical experience work. These shortcomings are because of bad corporate decisions or the employees being handed faulty food/equipment. Working-class AMC employees are not why I have hostility towards this theater chain. There's greater external dark magic at work within these cinematic domiciles.

However, I must come clean and eat crow when the time calls for it. I finally found an AMC location I like. Yes, Lisa Laman was enamored with an AMC multiplex. It must be the end times.

To watch the new Tamil-language historical drama Neelira on the big screen, my best buddy and I traveled to the one Texas movie theater playing this project: AMC Grapevine 30. Established in 1997, this theater might hold the record for most auditoriums in a single theater in the North Texas area. It's got so many screens that, when we went, they were still playing The Bride!, even though Warner Bros. has stopped tracking that film's box office numbers. Upon entering this location, it was immediately clear that this theater had a spaciousness and vibrant color palette that eludes other nearby AMC locations, like the AMC Northpark. The vastly distant rooftop made this space feel instantly roomy, a great ambiance to walk into.

Even better, though, is that there's a specific atmosphere to the AMC Grapevine. Everything inside is outer space themed! Specifically, it's rooted in a mid-20th-century Jetsons/Buzz Lightyear vision of the cosmos. Colors abound, everything is a little chunky-looking, and the floors are often draped with fuzzy rockets/planets carpeting that wouldn't be out of place in a pizza joint. Yellow is a dominant color throughout the location, while places like a toppings station have cutesy cosmic-themed names. Tiny blue planets (complete with adorable spiraling wiring holding them up) adorned with various white numbers indicate which auditorium you're next to. I've never been in an AMC that looks like this. Heck, I've never seen a movie theater that commits to this old-school cosmic ambiance.

Look at those cute spirals holding up the "planets"! And all those colors!


Maintaining that specificity even as the AMC Grapevine has embraced some modern accentuations (like those Coke Freestyle machines in the concession area) does wonders for the place. It just looks so inviting. Compare these decorative details to the Studio Movie Grill on North Central Expressway in Dallas. Inside this place, everything is so sparsely detailed. White backgrounds litter the entrance space, as do generic couches and a routine-looking bar area. A friend of mine remarked that it looked like an airport lounge, and that's totally it. Nothing about it screams "movie theater" or fun showmanship. God forbid a place making its money showing Sinners and Project Hail Mary have any dynamism in its architecture.

Meanwhile, the AMC Grapevine 30 feels very much like a space specifically put aside for spectacle and fun. The cosmic theming and bright colors are so unlike the typical movie-theater ambience (especially in the modern world) that they suggest anything is possible. What a fantastic mirror of how endlessly varied cinema is as an artistic medium. There's even charm in the deeply lived-in aura exuded through this place that has existed for 29 years. Everything still functions nicely and doesn't feel remotely delipidated. Instead, the AMC Grapevine 30's age excitingly makes it feel like you're stepping into something historic. You're now watching movies in a space that's housed everything from The Emperor's New Groove to Get Out. It's the best kind of time capsule that makes the past come alive rather than calcifying the present in constrictive nostalgia.

This theater's also shockingly easy to navigate despite its massive size, another major win for the complex. Easy-to-find and read signs help visitors navigate which of the 30 auditoriums they're visiting today, while splatterings of bright colors on the walls and fun cardboard standees littering the hallways make it a joy to just walk around the complex. The latter element was pretty much a given at any movie theater I went to as a kid. Nowadays, even places that used to be bursting with theater standees, like the Cinemark 16 in Allen, have largely eschewed these entities. How lovely to see these standees enduring at the AMC Grapveine, another visual signifier that you're in a movie theater, not an airport bar.

Even the auditoriums themselves are nicely done. Me and my friend were situated in one of the auditoriums that didn't have recliners, but that's fine by me. I care more about the projection and quality of the film itself than any gigantic recliner seat. Granted, this Grapevine auditorium wasn't extraordinary or deeply specific in design. I'm sure the projectors were (like the other AMC locations I've been to) nowhere near as crisp as the projector quality at the Texas Theatre. However, it got the job done, and inside there were (albeit more muted) red and yellow colors littering the walls to extend the locations primary visual aesthetic.

Look at that seating!

When I ventured into the women's restroom, I was greeted with another surprise: a cushy couch-ish area that looked like one half of a restaurant booth shaped like a quesadilla slice. I'd never seen something like this inside a movie theater bathroom before. What a lovely place to sit if the lines get too long or even just to collect your thoughts. That little sofa isn't something I'd expect to find in a restroom, but that just made its presence all the more welcome. This idiosyncratic touch cemented that the AMC Grapevine was a special place, right down to how its 30 screens offered up so many different kinds of cinematic experiences. You can see the biggest blockbusters here AND obscure Tamil-language releases.

Perhaps on another day something would've gone so horribly wrong that the AMC Grapevine would've incurred my ire rather than my affection. But on this day of seeing Neelira on the big screen, the theater not only worked like a charm, but its interior also dazzled me. Just gazing down any hallway of this place filled my eyes with hues of blue, silver, yellow, and light green, among other colors. Vibrancy and fun abounded in this realm, in sharp contrast to the drabness often plaguing the interiors of other AMC locations. Committing to specificity-drenched decor and pizzazz got even cantankerous me charmed by an AMC.

I still didn't touch the popcorn, though (besides nibbling a few kernels from my friend's bucket). I don't trust any AMC, not even this one, to do popcorn right enough to justify spending $11+.

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