Profile —
Ragtag confidential
by Andy Phipps, posted Dec. 8, 2007
It's a nondescript storefront on north Tenth Street that is easy to miss, squeezed between a law office and a beauty supply shop. Outside there is a bench painted black and red, and the windows are plastered with posters and fliers. Above the door is a simple marquee sign of wrought iron and red plastic. It marks the eclectic home of independent art in central Missouri: the Ragtag Cinema.
Established in 1998 by a humble but motivated group of organizers, The Ragtag Film Society, and a group of volunteers known as the "Ragtag Irregulars" arranged several showings of independent and classic films at the Blue Note. The screenings were an immediate success in the community.
Such support pushed them to take their venture a step further.
The group longed to have a place of their own. In 2000, they had raised enough money to buy an old 35 millimeter movie projector and they moved into the Ragtag's current location, where they celebrated their seventh anniversary in July.
Stepping through the door, you find yourself in a cramped but homey environment. The walls are painted the ubiquitous black and red with posters and artwork dotting them. The self-styled "cinema café" lives up to the Bertolt Brecht quote it was founded on, that "a theater without beer is just a museum."
The smell of fresh popcorn hangs in the air and a large blackboard above the bar serves menu choices. Almost everything available has an independent root in the ground. The bar features five microbrews on tap, ranging from local favorites such as Schlafly and Boulevard to rotating, far flung delights from small batch breweries in Oregon, Colorado and Michigan. Baked goods and soups from Uprise Bakery are available, and even the hot dogs, or rather "spicy dogs," come from Columbia-based Patchwork Farms.
A heavy black velvet curtain separates the lobby and café area from the theater. Going in, your custom-printed ticket is torn by a "Ragtag Irregular." What you find inside is something you've never seen before. The 220 some-odd seat theater's seating is nothing other than old couches and chairs you'd expect to find at your aunt's house or a doctor's office that hasn't been redecorated since 1973. Rotating displays of art created by local artists cover the walls.
How small it is can take you back at first, but once the movie starts, you get the feeling that you're more at home than you are in a theater.
At the commencement, an "Irregular" comes in to tell you about the movie you're about to see, offers information about some upcoming events and then walks back to the projection booth. The lights go down and the mechanical whirring of the projector begins. The surround sound, or as projectionist-apprentice John Gilbreth puts it, " semi-surround sound" system, kicks in and you are bombarded by crisp, clear sound that puts the local cineplex to shame. The picture on the screen is right in front of you, big and bold. You settle down into your comfortable seat, stick your nose into a glass of beer or wine and a hand in a bag of fresh popcorn and you enjoy the show.
Outside in the lobby, life goes on. With only one screen, anybody milling around the bar either works there or is just hanging out. On the night of the MU-Oklahoma game, several irregulars and their friends gather and make their plans to go out and see the game while a couple of others simply imbibe on the offered libations and read a book or paper as a sold-out crowd behind the curtain takes in an off-beat romantic comedy called "Lars and the Real Girl," which is about a disillusioned, hopelessly single man in a small town who takes a life-size sex doll as his bride.
The usually bright-lit lobby is dark, except for some Christmas lights that make it seem as though it's being lit by candles. Gilbreth and Jon Westhoff, another "Irregular," say they are trying out a scheme to make every Tuesday night couples night at the Ragtag.
"We're even making a love mix CD for it," Gilbreth says. "Maybe some Marvin Gaye ... That one song by Fleetwood Mac. Just bring down the lighting in here and make it all sexy."
The wit of the place is not hard to come by. On top of the display that holds fresh-baked cookies from Uprise is a greeting card with a photo of a '70s era Burt Reynolds on it leftover from a Thanksgiving showing of "Cannonball Run." Often times, the posters for upcoming attractions are edited with little jokes of their own and the signs outside of the unisex bathroom in the theater say that it is for women, men and centaurs.
"While cinema is what we might be known for, we generally like to support the arts in this town," says Gabe Peterson, one of the Ragtag's organizers. "That's why we have [music] shows whenever we can fit them into the schedule and the art you see on our walls. That's what we've been going for the whole time, and it is what we look forward to doing in the future."
And the future for Ragtag looks bright. The theater is currently renovating a building on Hitt Street into a twin cinema complex that will allow them to up the number of films they offered, and take their inspiration from the Brecht quote one step further by offering a full bar.
"You could have a gin fizzy and watch The Great Gatsby ... If we ever were to show it," Peterson quips.
When asked whether or not they have anticipated dealing with drunks at their new location, Peterson simply nods.
"If anyone were to I'd lay the smackdown on them," Gilbreth adds.
Currently, Ragtag is anticipating the move after the first of the year with a grand gala event to celebrate its opening, but when depends on who you talk to, either January or February. The scuttlebutt is that the esoteric Bob Dylan biopic, "I'm Not There," could be the new location's first showing.
But it doesn't matter when or where; the spirit of the Ragtag is destined to live on.
"I think that for a lot of people, especially in the downtown culture, we are a fixture," Peterson says. "For anyone who's been here more than a few years we're older than dirt. We're not, but we're anticipating that someday we will be."
