This place has La-Z-Boy recliners. In every theater. Dude.
There’s a right way to do posh, and there’s an utterly pretentious way to do posh. Angelika Mosaic is the latter, while AMC’s Courthouse Plaza 8 in Arlington, Va., is, thankfully, the former.
The right way involves stripping out the needless pretensions; instead of garish modern-art nightmares, for example, we have low-key, generally classy interior design. Courthouse 8 is endearingly unassuming, from its location — nestled in Arlington — to its refreshingly understated design.
The theater eschews both the ridiculous purple and steel crap most franchise multiplexes wallow in as well as the delusions of grandeur found at Washington’s E Street Cinema and Angelika Film Center & Cafe in the Fairfax, Va., Mosaic District. Instead, everything is kept functional but appealing — warm colors and well-placed LED signs.
But you have to see the theater’s biggest attraction to truly comprehend why Courthouse 8 is such a premium experience — because every seat in every theater is a gigantic, reclining red La-Z-Boy-style armchair. All of them. Seriously.
On one hand, it may be a sad reminder of the obesity epidemic. On the other hand, La-Z-Boy seats! Good La-Z-Boy seats to boot! While you won’t be sitting in actual merchandized stuff, the seats themselves are made of very comfortable, reassuring material.
Admittedly, I can see these seats becoming a liability over time. After all, the recliners were part of a relatively recent theater renovation. The true test of Courthouse 8’s mettle will come when the recliner motors start wearing out, and the new-theater sheen completely dissipates.
But, for now, Courthouse 8 offers an unparalleled viewing experience. Like Angelika Mosaic, patrons reserve their seats, albeit at much more reasonable prices that are roughly average with other theaters.
Transportation via Metro is far simpler, though driving in Arlington can be a challenge. The concessions offered at the theater are much simpler than the stuff at E Street and Angelika Mosaic but still well-executed: The popcorn is usually fresh, and Courthouse 8 offers the same futuristic soda combination gizmo as Angelika Mosaic.
The only current problem with the theater is in its layout. Most likely by necessity, the theater’s eight screens are scattered across three floors. Signs are plentiful and generally well thought out, but navigating from the concession stand to your viewing room and the restroom can be confusing.
That, however, is merely a minor gripe relative to the other awesomeness on show at Courthouse 8. If this represents the future of movie theaters, then I’m totally down with it.
