I am an AMC A-lister. Now, I know that such a prestigious title can easily come off as intimidating, but I implore you to relax. Us A-listers are really just like everyone else – well, maybe just a little bit better. Alas, recent circumstances have forced me to reckon with my status as an individual that makes monthly payments to the AMC corporation and confront how I even got here in the first place.
When I moved into my apartment at the start of my junior year, I realized just how close I was to the AMC Evanston 12, and, spurred by my redownloading of Letterboxd and tales I had heard from active duty A-listers, I decided on a whim to test the program out. I thought I would try it only for a month or two, just to see a couple of movies, but I could never have imagined just how dramatically a membership program from a floundering company with the funny Nicole Kidman ad would impact my schedule.
For those who may be unaware of the sacred text officially known as “AMC Stubs A-List member policy,” allow me to allay your ignorance. An A-List membership gets you: up to four movies a week in any format, waived online ticket reservations fees, no-cost-added size upgrades for popcorn buckets and fountain drinks, no upcharge for premium formats, points benefits and the ability to link your AMC account with friends to buy seats together, all for around $30 a month. The part that makes this program such a big deal (and what leads to the “cult” allegations which I will address later) is the ability to see up to four movies a week for “free.” With the average ticket prices now being comparable to what I believe a down payment on a suburban home for a family of four costs (about $15 in my experience), seeing just two movies a month means you are essentially getting the entire program for free!
The sense of power I get from exploiting this clear weakness in the policies of the AMC corporation is unmatched. My friends want to see a new movie? Doesn’t matter where we are, I make us plan around going to an AMC and, between my “free” seat and the waived online ticket fee, often save upwards of $40 on a single purchase. By myself, I would regularly go to an AMC multiple times a week to see any movie in which I had even a passing interest. Living a mere 5-10-minute walk from the AMC made it so easy too; regardless of if I had just gotten back from an eight hour shift or if it was 20 below zero outside, I was out the door to see my close personal friend Nicole Kidman and a movie I had just learned about five minutes ago.
Perhaps now is as good a time as any to address the “cult” allegations. Yes, I do try to proselytize everyone I encounter into becoming A-listers (and have even succeeded on a few occasions). Yes, it does occupy an inordinate amount of time in my life. Yes, you’re not able to leave easily, as a cancellation comes with a six-month period where you are unable to become an A-lister again. But are cults able to offer the moral superiority that comes from personally saving cinema every weekend? I don’t think so, which is why I hope everyone will see just how ridiculous these allegations are. Regardless, I’m proud to be an A-lister.
All of these reasons are why I can say, without hyperbole, that the AMC Evanston 12 closing until January 2027 is the worst thing to ever happen.
As part of their continued war against the “college town” allegations, the powers that be in Evanston decided to temporarily close the only movie theater that was easily walkable to Northwestern students for renovations, right in the midst of peak movie season. Not only is the AMC closed temporarily, but as part of the “renovations” they are permanently closing five of their 12 screens.
This closure left me in a predicament. Obviously, I could not revert back to being a civilian, unaware of the latest niche releases and rarely even in a movie theater. I had become too accustomed to my new lifestyle, and there were so many movies coming out that I wanted to see. I learned that the Old Orchard theater was only a short bus ride away, but, as it was not an AMC, I would both have to pay to see movies and thus be the same status as everyone else there, which was obviously unacceptable. But what was now the most easily accessible AMC, the AMC Newcity 14, would require a roughly 50-minute train ride on the CTA to reach.
I could not cancel my A-list subscription, as the six-month lockout period would eat well into winter quarter’s output when the AMC Evanston should have reopened. But the thought of the AMC corporation receiving free money from me monthly was not a scenario I could endure. Thus, I did what any reasonable person would do in my situation and began to plan out exactly what my pilgrimages to the AMC Newcity 14 would look like.
Before returning to campus, I made sure that I had my affairs in order, meaning that I had seen every movie in theaters that I wanted to watch. But the first week of classes brought with it the first new movie I wanted to see, the stylized Chris Hansen biopic Primetime. Luckily, the Friday the movie released, I made arrangements to see the film as soon as possible. I got back from my classes, perused which showtimes were available, bought a Ventra card and promptly left for the CTA. The train from Foster to Sedgwick takes about 40 minutes, and the walk from Sedgwick to the AMC takes about 15 minutes. All in all, it’s an almost two-hour round-trip, and that’s not accounting for the length of the movie. Speaking of the movie, Primetime was great – four stars on Letterboxd!
Along with the grime of the CTA, AMCs in general are just kind of gross. They are often nestled within malls primed for future “urban decay” edits or liminal spaces straight out of Backrooms, and the chairs often leave me feeling strangely sticky. The general aesthetics are simultaneously gaudy and grungey.
Newcity 14 is no different. Tucked in the corner of an admittedly nice area (there’s a water feature right outside it!), its charm quickly diminishes as you’re forced to go up two escalators in a building that looks like no one has entered since the 1990s to walk into a cramped lobby preceding a long corridor of theaters. So, ultimately, it’s just another AMC, but that’s still a theater I get “free” tickets to.
I spent eight hours the following Saturday either commuting to theaters or watching movies in them. Some may see this commitment as a ridiculous amount of time, but they simply do not understand the responsibilities an A-lister has to deal with every day. First, I departed my apartment to see Digger at the AMC Newcity 14. The problem with going to see movies on weekends is that I have to deal with the red line: both changing trains at Howard (which often takes forever because the CTA treats timeliness like a deadly sin) and the significant increase in stations visited compared to the purple line express (which only runs on weekdays). I discovered that the red line drops me off at a station significantly closer to the AMC than the purple line, so I guess there were some silver linings. Digger was great, but there was no time to reflect because I had about an hour to reach another theater to see another movie.
Unfortunately, the next movie I saw I did have to pay for (I know, I’m disgusted too), but it was because it was a limited release event that was only showing in Regal theaters, not AMCs. I was to watch Jet Lag: The Game – Japanorama Finale, the finale to a season of a YouTube show I had followed for years that was being released in theaters for the first time. The problem, of course, was that after a short train ride from my AMC to Fullerton station, I was faced with a 45-minute walk to the theater, Regal City North. However, on the journey I discovered that strip malls and highways are actually quite walkable! I’d like to see European cities try to beat that.
I’m quite glad I made the journey because I found the experience to be one of the most unique I’ve had in a theater; it was absolutely packed and extremely communal as everyone was on the same wavelength for the film. We all had the same sense of humor, everyone clapped whenever anything significant happened and there was a general sense that everyone was having a good time. Maybe I just orbit towards cult-like communities.
A less good time was the 45-minute walk back to Fullerton, after which I was met with another CTA delay, before reaching Howard to transfer back to the purple line, which, of course, meant another delay from the CTA. All in all, I left to see Digger at about 2:30 p.m. and returned to my apartment a little after 11 p.m.
The next week’s excursions went flawlessly, except for the movies I saw. On Oct. 8, I saw The Other Mommy, and the next day, I saw The Social Reckoning. Both films were rather mediocre, but seeing them during the week came with the benefit of being able to take the purple line rather than the red line. At this point, I had my route boiled down to a science: I knew all the minutiae of both the time to arrive at Foster and the trek from Sedgwick to the AMC. Nothing of note happened during these journeys, and I thought I was finally settling into a groove.
The following week put my route to the test. As per usual, I waited until the last minute to book tickets. However, this week in particular, I was faced with a critical situation: all the seats for all the movies I wanted to see at convenient times were fully booked! Desperately, I began to scramble to put together a plan to still see a movie that Friday. I had a meeting that ended at 3 p.m., and I saw that a showing of Sense and Sensibility started at 3:15 p.m. However, trained in the ways of AMC as I am, I know that a movie with a showtime at 3:15 p.m. will not start until at least 3:40 p.m. Thus, I quickly concocted a scheme to go directly from my meeting to the nearest CTA station and then sprint from Sedgwick to the AMC, hopefully cutting down the time the walk takes and arriving before the movie begins.
Could I really pull off leaving for a movie just 15 minutes before its showtime began? (I could’ve when AMC Evanston 12 was open). I was doubtful, but it seemed the world realized the importance of my task and decided that my train ran with no delays. One stop away, I was planning out the route in my head, preparing to run the suburban streets and park sidewalks. However, the gods of the CTA smiled on me that day and a red line train arrived at Fullerton at the same time as my purple line train. This transfer would take me to a much closer station to the AMC in only one stop! I quickly switched trains, got off on the next stop and reached the AMC right at 3:40 p.m. I rush into my theater and am greeted by the welcoming words of Nicole Kidman, indicating that the movie is just about to begin.
Some may think it arrogant for me to call myself an unstoppable force, but I far more fear the inaccuracy this article would incur if I were to not refer to myself as such.
The next day I was once again forced to take the red line, and this time for much longer. I was going properly downtown to the AMC River East 21 to see You Can See Everything, the highly anticipated Elizabeth Holmes documentary by a favorite comedian of mine, Nathan Fielder. As the film only had a limited release in a few theaters and because of all the buzz surrounding it, I had to go to a different theater and had gotten my tickets weeks in advance, and even still this screening was the only showtime available. I have never seen the red line as packed as it was that day; perhaps everyone in the suburbs wished to spend three hours watching an avant-garde documentary.
I settled in for the 70-minute commute with some new music. Upon arriving, I was delighted to find that this AMC was actually kind of cool: it had an almost-Art Deco vibe and it seemed like people actually visit it regularly (rather than the forgotten vibes of most AMCs). The long pilgrimage to reach this AMC ended up being very worth it as You Can See Everything is one of the best films I have ever seen and should be required viewing for all humans. What shouldn’t be required is the subsequent hour-long commute to get back to my apartment.
The combination of the commutes and the actual movies eats up an insane amount of my time. It often feels like I have pretty much no free time, because when I’m not forcing myself to watch these movies, I’m forcing myself to do the work I’m otherwise neglecting. I have become constantly dedicated to my status as an A-lister, and I’m starting to think it may be making me a tad conceited. I already have plans to continue making trips to see more movies; for me, the grind has become inescapable.
But seriously, please make the trip to see You Can See Everything in theaters, it is that good.
