Remembering the Princess Theater 10 years later
It’s 2014 in Oxford. I’m 13 years old, standing right in front of 10 N. Beech St. The early afternoon weather is fairly pleasant for mid-February, and people are making their way around Uptown as they would any given Saturday: checking out the remnants of the farmer’s market, stopping by Kofenya for a drink and getting creative at You’re Fired!
Eventually, I see my friend Isaac turn the corner and stroll toward me. I wave, and we make light conversation as we head into the welcoming doors of Oxford’s only cinema, the Princess Theater. We pay for our tickets, indulge in some popcorn and step into one of the four screening rooms. Shortly after we take our seats, the lights dim and the trailers play. Soon, we’re locked into watching “The Lego Movie.”
Two hours later, as the final scene fades and the credits roll, we step back out into the now slightly cooler air, laughing about our favorite moments from the film. I say goodbye to Isaac, grab my bike and cycle home, looking forward to my next visit.
That visit never happened.
Ten years later, I’m 23 years old and sitting toward the back of Kofenya. Across the street is 10 N. Beech St., completely vacant on its first floor and housing student apartments on its upper floors. Any indicators of the once-thriving theater I knew as a kid are gone, including the warm glow of its marquee.
I’ve walked past that building hundreds of times since the Princess closed permanently, only a month after my visit with Isaac. Since then, I’ve graduated high school, learned how to drive, met and lost friends and almost finished college. I’ve grown up. But when I see the empty shell of the former theater, it still hurts.
Plenty of businesses have come and gone, ones that were considered staples of the community, but few were as controversial and frustrating as the Princess Theater. Its closure created a void in Oxford that has yet to be filled, and many of the issues people complain about within the town can arguably be traced back to the moment its doors shut for good.
Many people tried for years to save the theater, to bring it back in some new way or at least preserve its essence as part of Oxford’s history. Despite the community’s best efforts, art lost to commerce.
But it didn’t have to.
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The Oxford Theater, as the Princess was originally known, opened on Sept. 11, 1911, four years after the first film was shown in Oxford. The building was multipurpose, housing the theater as well as a bowling alley and dance hall. On the other end of High Street, the Miami-Western Theater would open almost 30 years later in 1938.
Even among the various attractive shop fronts Uptown, the Princess stood out. Its striking blue-and-red color palette lined the building’s front, welcoming in customers with its raised arch and iconic marquee. Even now, with the theater long dead, the arch remains, the only sign of its previous existence.
For over half a century, the two theaters lived in harmony with each other. Despite the close proximity, as well as similar film lineups, the managers never leaned into direct conflict, content to operate as their own individual entities.
By the 1990s, however, it became clear that the Oxford Theater, which was renamed the Princess Theater, had won. In 1989, Miami-Western closed its doors. The building still hints that a theater used to be present, with its hanging marquee that lights up like a beacon for students’ weekend activities. But to most in Oxford, it exists first and foremost as Brick Street Bar.
The Princess, now under management by Alliance Entertainment and expanded to four screens, would continue onward as Oxford’s remaining bastion of film. New investment kept it alive, passing its 100-year anniversary and cementing its place as an important piece of Oxford history.
Four years later, it and everything it stood for would be gone.
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Most of Oxford’s longtime citizens have a Princess or Miami-Western Theater story.
Mike Smith, former mayor and current Oxford City Council member, worked at the Princess from high school through his sophomore year of college. A projectionist, Smith balanced the changing spools of 35mm film by literally going out on a limb to update the theater’s marquee.
“We used to call it ‘Going up to the dance hall,’” Smith said. “Nowadays, I don’t think this would be at all legal from OSHA. You would climb out onto the roof in all types of weather – summer, winter, spring or fall – on Thursday nights and change the marquee for the new movies on Friday.”
The Princess showed films of all kinds, from blockbusters like “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” to award-friendly dramas like “Out of Africa” to holiday fares like “A Christmas Story.” The management placed a big emphasis on the theater as a community space, one that welcomed all ages and interests with employees that cared about providing a positive experience.
“People expect a lot more from their theater experiences these days … that was never quite the experience we had at the Princess,” Smith said.
Around the same time, Amy Clay, a fourth-generation Oxford resident and special education teacher at Kramer Elementary, was working at the Miami-Western. For her, the theater wasn’t just a job, but part of a larger culture in Oxford.
“We would go Uptown in high school because we didn’t drive, [and] we didn’t leave town,” Clay said. “Uptown was a place to gather safely. Parents would drop their high schoolers Uptown, and we would sit up there and go to movies, and it was very much a community.”
Similar to Smith, Clay worked at the Miami-Western through both high school and college, seeing movies like “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure” and “Purple Rain” come through. Compared to the Princess’ more modest screening rooms, the Miami-Western’s single screen was housed in a massive space that could, and often did, seat around 170 people at once.
“I remember sitting in the ticket booth, and they kept coming back and checking the ticket numbers out of the little pop-up machine,” Clay said. “And then they’d be like, ‘OK, stop!’ And I would close up the box office and go inside and put up a little ‘sold out’ sign. And it was like, ‘Wow, we actually sold out movies.’”
The theaters provided an opportunity to create genuinely meaningful connections with film. For people like Wil Haygood, Miami University alum and author of books like “Tigerland” and “Colorization,” those experiences stuck with them years into the future.
“I was walking by after class one morning, and I saw the poster behind the glass advertising ‘Chinatown,’ the movie with Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway,” Haygood said, “and so, I just knew I had to go see that movie. It spoke to me not just as cinema, but as great storytelling.”
“Years later, I was out in Los Angeles working on a book, and I went into a bookstore, and they had a hardback copy of the screenplay to ‘Chinatown’ by Robert Towne … It sits under glass in my living room to this day.”
Haygood’s connections to film run deep. His best-known piece of writing might be an article he wrote for The Washington Post titled “A Butler Well Served by this Election,” which was then adapted into the 2013 film “The Butler.”
Haygood returned to Oxford the same year as the commencement speaker for graduation, where he played the trailer for the film on the screens at Yager Stadium.
Unfortunately, “The Butler” did not play in a theater in Oxford. After 2014, no film would.
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In 2012, Alliance was scaling back.
The company, which primarily operated in the distribution of physical movies, music and video games, owned 26 theaters it no longer wanted. Alliance struck a deal with Regal Cinemas to purchase 25 of these theaters. The Princess, with its modest scope and less advanced equipment, was the sole exception.
Left with no owner and no way to continue doing business, the Princess closed its doors on Nov. 25, 2012. At the same time, however, opportunities for the future began presenting themselves.
With Regal uninterested in taking over the Oxford theater, Alliance proposed a deal: It would donate the building to the city, allowing for the continued existence of the 100-year-old theater.
The city’s leadership didn’t agree. It passed, leading to a bidding war that culminated in the building being purchased by a group of local property owners – Matt and Chris Rodbro, Lindsey Meyers and Ted Woods.
This collective appeared enthusiastic about continuing the Princess’ legacy, with plans to reopen and upgrade the theater with the latest technology. And they held to at least half of their word, as the Princess reopened in early 2014.
Then, on Thursday, March 20, an ice machine in the theater overheated, causing a small fire in the lobby. No one was hurt, and the damage was isolated to a small area, but it was enough to cause another closure. This time, however, the doors stayed closed.
Time dragged on. Despite the occasional statement from Meyers reasserting the owners’ commitment to the theater, no movement occurred until 2015. That was when a proposal was made to the city: remodel the building, turning the lower section into a one-screen theater and the upper space into apartments.
One small condition – the 100-year-old building would be demolished.
The proposal was granted. On Sept. 28, 2015, the original 10 N. Beech St. was brought down. A replacement was built, designed to retain the look so many knew. Oxford’s mayor at the time, Kevin McKeehan, even promised the original marquee would be reattached.
Now, all Oxford could do was wait for the owners to make good on their promise of returning the Princess. So they waited.
And waited.
And waited.
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When the Princess’ lights went out, its sudden absence reverberated across Oxford.
“I think there was a total sense of loss,” Smith said. “There was a feeling that we were a small town, but we still had a hometown movie theater where you could go … You didn’t have to drive to Hamilton or Cincinnati or farther afield.”
For a smaller, tight-knit city like Oxford, local businesses become a key part of its identity. Movie theaters are perfect in this regard, as films can slot into many situations and surrounding events: birthday parties, date nights, classes or family outings.
Even with the shock of its closure, many took the buildings’ owners at their word and looked forward to the Princess being rebuilt and given some much-needed upgrades. That enthusiasm would be short-lived.
Despite tenants moving into its upper levels, the bottom floor of the building sat completely empty, a shell with none of the amenities necessary to run a theater. If the Princess was going to come back, it would cost close to $1 million.
Suddenly, the building owners didn’t seem as enthusiastic as they once were.
David Prytherch, an Oxford City Council member and professor of geography at Miami, began heavily involving himself in the affairs of the Princess around this time.
“In our country, if you own something, it’s your property,” Prytherch said. “So we had to play really nicely with them, because they could kill a hostage at any time, and we hoped to save a hostage.”
By early 2018, it became clear no movement was happening on the theater front. So Prytherch and a group of heavily motivated residents mobilized. A Facebook page, “Friends of the Princess Theater,” was created, and meetings were held to find a solution.
Eventually, the stars aligned, and a deal presented itself.
In collaboration with Oxford’s former economic development director Alan Kyger, a proposal was made that would involve the city and theater manager Dan Heilbrunn working together to fund the Princess’ return. Heilbrunn would then operate the theater under his independent branding. All the building’s owners would need to do is chip in and allow them to utilize the space.
They said no.
On Aug. 23, 2018, they signed a lease with a Chinese restaurant to take over the space instead. The restaurant never opened.
“I mean, the Princess really was like a fairy tale, you know,” Prytherch said. “The Princess was kidnapped and was held hostage, and we tried to save the Princess, and in the end we were not able.”
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In the decade since the Princess’ final bow, the cost of theater upkeep has certainly increased thanks to updated technology and higher expectations from consumers. Even so, plenty of small, independent theaters continue to operate successfully, thanks to passionate managers and equally passionate attendees.
Jonathan McNeal is the general manager of one such theater, The Neon in Dayton.
“It’s a balance; we curate a lot, and then we allow the space to be rented for a very low cost,” McNeal said. “We want those organizations to be able to not be priced out, to be able to host those events here.”
The Neon has been around since the 1980s, and like the Princess, began life as a single-screen theater before eventually upgrading to two. In 2019, the theater was granted nonprofit status, something which McNeal credits as helping to keep the theater alive as COVID-19 struck and forced The Neon to close.
Despite it now being back open and still successful, McNeal is cautious about the future. However, he still thinks a theater could work in a town like Oxford.
“I can see people’s trepidation of taking on a theater because it’s such a gamble these days,” McNeal said. “You’ve really got to find the right passionate person to take on the project. It’s not going to be some company that just decides to, like, let’s see if we can make a movie theater work.”
In Oxford today, it really is individuals and small groups leading the charge. Haygood is one such case, hosting a themed yearly spring film festival at Miami.
“It just means a lot to me to have movies that have social meaning shown on a 60-foot screen,” Haygood said. “It just makes the story bigger. It seems like it makes the story more epic.”
In 2024, films were curated around the civil rights movement, including a showing of “The Butler” ten years after its original release. This year, Haygood says the theme was journalism with highlighted films including “Capote,” “Spotlight” and “The Post.”
Outside of Haygood’s efforts, screenings occur fairly regularly around town. The Miami Activities and Programming (MAP) organization hosts films around campus once a month, as well as the occasional skate-in movie at the Goggin Ice Center. Weekly, there’s Classic Movie Fridays put on at Peabody Hall by the Western Center for Social Impact and Innovation.
Even outside of Miami, residents can find occasional screenings at the Community Arts Center or Uptown. To celebrate the 2024 eclipse, for example, a host of space-related films were shown at locations all around town, from the Art Museum to the Lane Public Library.
While these are nice gestures, they still feel like a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.
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The efforts to fill in the Princess’ old space stand as a microcosm of trends within Oxford’s Uptown, none of which have come to fruition.
First, a Chinese restaurant, announced at a time when the town was seeing a significant amount of students coming from China driven by Miami’s marketing efforts. An influx of restaurants followed, many of which would operate for only a few years before closing.
The most recent attempt to replace the Princess was to put in a bar with an outdoor patio area in the alley next to the building. The building owners would need to go through Oxford’s Historic and Architectural Preservation Committee. This time, however, they were unsuccessful, as their proposal was never passed.
Here, too, is a sign of how Uptown has changed over the years: Bars have taken over the space. Places catering to student nightlife are to be expected for a college town like Oxford, but these are spaces that rarely attract customers over the age of 25.
Many students at Miami complain about a lack of things to do in Oxford beyond going to bars and restaurants. Of course, there’s plenty to do if you know where to look, but very little is pushed directly to students. And when you walk down High Street and see nothing but bars, restaurants and a few specialty shops, you can’t fault this disillusioned take.
It also contributes to a disconnect between Miami and the rest of Oxford.
It’s not like Oxford needs saving; the town is, all things considered, doing fine. And even if it wasn’t, the return of a theater probably wouldn’t be the magic solution to its problems.
But it matters to me.
I won’t be in Oxford forever, and realistically any changes that happen once I leave won’t make much of a difference in my own life. Yet, I still care about the town I’ve grown up in. I care about its people, its culture, its buildings, its history. Most of all, I care about the next child born here and the opportunities they have.
I found my passion for film thanks to the Princess. If there’s even a slight chance someone else can develop the same love for this beautiful art form, I believe that’s worth fighting for.
We couldn’t save the Princess. But maybe, someday, it can come back to life.