By Skyler Carreon
Years ago, at our very own El Paso-grown Plaza Classic Film Festival, held in the beautiful and historic Plaza Theatre, we hosted actor Richard Dreyfuss before a screening of “Jaws.” I’ll never forget him discussing the future of cinema and what it might hold, and him looking out into the darkness of the ornate Spanish-inspired decor of the theater and the twinkling lights on the ceiling mimicking the night sky with a packed house sitting beneath it.
Skyler Carreon
He looked out at it all and said, “You don’t build this if it doesn’t mean anything.” And I think that’s true. As far as historic theaters go, the Plaza is a place where I feel the majesty of cinema wash over me every time I pass under that marquee. In many ways, I felt that Alamo Drafthouse was the modern, first-run, commercial theater that made me feel the same way.
As of Feb. 7, the franchised Alamo Drafthouse theaters that occupy spots in West and Far East El Paso will be shuttered for a rebrand. This announcement comes with no fanfare, no warning, no nothing.
It seems that the excitement of opening a new business/location deserves a grand party and ribbon cutting, but the closure of a decade-old staple of the city’s entertainment is executed with a whimper.
Alamo Drafthouse was a theater chain that seemed to care about the theatrical experience more than probably any other chain out there. The exceptional sound and picture quality was unmatched by any other theater in El Paso. Nowhere did blockbusters feel more powerful, indies feel more intimate or horrors feel more frightening.
The decor and design of the theater alone told you that you were in the place to watch the latest offerings from filmmakers around the world. In short: Alamo respected cinema. It wasn’t concerned with only playing arthouse films or only playing blockbusters — it was concerned about it all.
The programming was for anyone and everyone with even a passing interest in cinema. Nowhere in El Paso is there a first-run theater with a love of movies like at the Alamo Drafthouse.
The staff of the two Alamos in El Paso were kind, welcoming, knowledgeable and above all cared about your experience. From the concierge desk, to the servers, to the kitchen staff, to the projectionists — everyone there seemed to be focused on one thing: making sure the guests had a good time.
Though my employment with Alamo was only in a partial capacity as a host, I was honored to work inside next to some of the best people I’ve known. Weekly quizzes from Geeks Who Drink became a staple of the Montecillo location, with enthusiastic crowds and sore losers (my team chief among them!)
It was a community in a way – a community of movie and pop-culture lovers.
Charles Horak’s classic cinema group The Film Salon occupied a screen there every month to cinephiles of El Paso. There were field trips to see the projection booth by elementary students. Private screenings for personal and local professional groups. Birthdays, wedding proposals, contests, film festivals.
A month ago, Alamo Drafthouse corporate announced that they were going to skewer any goodwill they had with their loyal customers and force people to use their phones in the theater to order food. It is a move antithetical to the very foundation of Alamo Drafthouse as a concept.
There are a great many horrible things going on in the world right now, so maybe this is a silly thing to care about. But movies are, as critic Roger Ebert put it, “empathy machines” and the movie theater by extension is a place where we can practice empathy, where we can look at the flickering images and sounds from directors, writers, composers and actors, and maybe get a little bit more clarity about the world around us and the world within ourselves.
Alamo was a place that I feel fostered that reflection better than any other chain. And that reflection was, for me, my way of interpreting the good and the bad in this world, my way of wrestling with my feelings and then walking out into the sunlight anew, with more fervor than ever to take on the challenges that await us all every day.
When we overcome the forces of evil, when the villains are defeated and we get to see what’s on the other side of the madness we are currently living through, the movies will still be there to show me where to go and what to do next.
I may not be an Avenger, or a rough and tumble archeologist, or a prince with a sword and shield, but these heroes and stories have inspired me to push forward. Alamo’s respect and admiration of these stories and characters only solidified my belief that if I cared enough, if I could do something.
Because in the end – this is just me crying over a movie theater corporation leaving my city. Who cares? El Paso has a ton of movie theaters. Who cares? It’s just a movie theater. Who cares?
I did. And all those empathy machines that Alamo Drafthouse lovingly curated and screened for the city of El Paso told me that’s enough. Maybe just because I cared enough to write this, that means it mattered somehow.
Alamo was the first year of dates with my wife. The place where, as a host, I did my best to foster a love of cinema among crowds of people at movie parties and family parties. Where I spent the last 10 years watching the newest Marvel movie, watching the newest Wes Anderson, sitting shoulder to shoulder next to the people I love the most in this world.
Maybe because of all that … it matters. It meant something.
It meant something to me, anyway. Maybe it meant something to you, too.
And though it may be gone, and replaced with a company probably more interested in just showing blockbusters and forcing people to use their phones in the theater, I’ll still remember all the good times I had in those spaces. I’ll be able to look back and say, in the words of that strange and wonderful American icon Pee-wee Herman, “I remember … the Alamo.”
Skyler Carreon was born and raised in El Paso and graduated from UTEP with a bachelor’s degree in digital media production. He’s a writer and director of short films and plays and is the founder of local production company Truman Pictures.
This <a target=”_blank” href=”https://elpasomatters.org/2026/02/09/opinion-alamo-drafthouse-meant-something-el-paso/”>article</a> first appeared on <a target=”_blank” href=”https://elpasomatters.org”>El Paso Matters</a> and is republished here under a <a target=”_blank” href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/”>Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License</a>.<img src=”https://i0.wp.com/elpasomatters.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/cropped-epmatters-favicon2.png?resize=150%2C150&ssl=1″ style=”width:1em;height:1em;margin-left:10px;”>
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