Park Theatre fights to stay open as Hollywood’s model shifts

When the owner of the Historic Park Theatre in Estes Park, Jenna MacGregor, looks at what’s happened to the movie industry over the past decade, the warning signs were there. The theatrical release window, once 120 days, has now shrunk to just 45. Streaming platforms now dominate the cultural landscape, audience habits have shifted post-COVID, and studio licensing practices have become more restrictive and expensive for independent theaters.

“It’s not sustainable,” MacGregor said. “The film companies don’t care about the theaters any longer. They’re literally driving us out of business.”

MacGregor has spent a lifetime in the cinema business. Her grandparents, Ola and Richard Stanger, ran a theater in Windsor before the family moved to Denver and then Estes Park to operate drive-ins. Her family began operating the Park Theatre in 1967 and purchased it in 1982. She now oversees its operations alongside her family’s summertime outdoor pub, The Slab.

But after decades of experience, even she couldn’t have predicted how quickly the industry would unravel. Even before the pandemic, cracks in the theatrical model were starting to show, but MacGregor was determined to keep moviegoing alive in Estes. In 2019, she purchased Reel Mountain Theater, a three-screen venue across town where she’d gone on her first date. 

“We actually increased business over there by over 30 percent,” she says. “Then COVID hit, and that was just detrimental.” Despite renegotiated rent and community support, the venue lost more than $500,000 and ultimately closed in 2024.

Now, the Park Theatre—the oldest single-house motion picture theater still operating in the country—is in danger of meeting the same fate.

“People need to be aware of the fact that it’s a big building, and it’s got to be supported,” MacGregor said. “If they want it to stick around, they can come enjoy the movie the way that things are meant to be seen, which is with other people.”

A system stacked against small theaters

While MacGregor encourages the community to return to the theater, she knows some moviegoers have noticed the difference. Big blockbusters aren’t showing up as often, and first-run films are harder to come by. That’s not a choice—it’s a reflection of an industry that increasingly sidelines independent theaters like hers.

Studios require theaters to play major releases “clean,” meaning no other movie can be shown on the screen for two or more weeks. If Park Theatre wants to play a film like “Superman,” it has to commit every showtime to that movie, regardless of demand.

“At the Park Theatre, I have 175 seats, and when I get 20 to 30 people to a movie, it makes no sense for me to only have one product to be able to show,” MacGregor said. “And you can’t get away with showing two movies because now AI will go out there and search what your movie times are, and it reports back to the film studios, ‘They’re playing “Superman” and “F1” at the same time,’ so then we’d get removed from service.” 

Adding insult to injury, studios take a steep cut of ticket revenue. On a $13 ticket, MacGregor says she keeps just $3.80. For higher-profile films, studios charge up to 65 percent of box office gross, or more if the film performs well, while some specialty screenings, such as Fathom Events, come with a 75 percent split. 

“If a movie does well nationally, the percentage goes up,” she said. “The new ‘How To Train Your Dragon’ came out like two months ago, and they just billed me an extra percentage for that movie this week, so I got to come up with $600 and something dollars, or whatever, because their percentage went up because it hit the next tier nationwide. It’s all very difficult.”

The financial risks are immense. Studios often require minimum guarantees—between $350 and $1,000 per film—regardless of turnout. In one recent case, Park Theatre brought in only $410 for a weeklong run but still had to pay a $350 guarantee.

Shifting the model to survive

In response, Park Theatre has reimagined how it serves its audience. This summer, it hosted a slate of live performers from Los Angeles, including musicians, mentalists, and Disney songwriter Buster Akrey. “The entertainment was top-notch,” MacGregor says. “But most of the community didn’t show up.” 

The theatre now regularly does repertory screenings of films like “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” and “The Lego Movie” under a flat-rate licensing model of typically around $250 for a full week. And in a bold experiment, it has begun offering many of these films for free, relying instead on concession sales and sponsorships from local businesses.

“Our free Saturday morning movies bring in 50 to 100 people,” MacGregor says. “That’s exactly what we’re looking for. What can we do that’s going to bring people back to the theater? And then, because the movie is free, people purchase more concessions. We’re just trying to do anything that we can to get people to come back.”

In addition to films, the space is available for rentals, weddings, and private events. MacGregor hopes that creative use of the building will help offset overhead expenses, including taxes, utilities, maintenance, and staffing, which have all surged in recent years.

And yet, as she looks at shuttered theaters across the state, from the Esquire to Chez Artiste in Denver, the outlook remains grim. “Unless you have a gigantic multiplex, it’s just not viable anymore,” she says. “There isn’t enough product going to theaters.”

The last picture show?

For longtime locals, the Park Theatre is more than just a building. It’s a cultural touchstone. 

“The Historic Park Theatre is a cornerstone of Estes Park’s arts and culture scene,” says Rachel Oppermann, director of marketing at Visit Estes Park. “As one of the oldest operating theaters in the country, it offers a unique glimpse into our town’s rich history while continuing to entertain and inspire.”

But history alone won’t keep the lights on. As MacGregor puts it, “There is absolutely a possibility of the Park Theatre going away. If you don’t go back, then you’ll lose it.”

And if they don’t?

“Well, having fresh, fun movies at the Park Theatre might disappear,” MacGregor said. “You have to be able to pay for something to be able to keep it. What else do we do? I guess we could turn into a large retail area or something. But we currently have the oldest operating single-house motion picture theater in the United States. It’s located in our tiny little town, but if it’s not important to them, and they don’t want to keep it as a movie house, well, that may happen.”