Author: Kirsten Humbert

Dollar Cinema’s founder keeps films accessible, affordable

The Dollar Cinema is the greatest place on Earth. At first glance, it’s just a second-run cinema in nearly abandoned Decarie Square mall. However, once you start going you become part of the family.

Bernie Gurberg is the owner and one of the few staff members of Dollar Cinema. He works seven days a week, charging $2.50 per flick (or $1 if you buy tickets in bulk). To run a cinema that you can pay for entirely in couch change must be a film buff’s passion project.

But Gurberg hasn’t seen a movie since the original Taken was released. In fact, he only sees a movie about once every five years. So why does he persist in running a cinema with a business plan that would boggle an accountant’s mind?

He claims to be an “ordinary guy, just doing whatever I’m doing.” Our interview is interrupted by a customer requesting a medium popcorn. “No,” Gurberg responds with deadpan delivery, “I’m hungry.”

“We come here for [Gurberg] more than for the movies,” says Alex, a longtime patron, as he passes the counter with his wife, carrying snacks.

“It’s a family here,” Gurberg nods.

His main business is from families—“single moms with three kids,” in Gurberg’s words. Gurberg says that being able to provide a place where any family can afford to come and buy a snack for each kid is worth more than money to him.

“You need to be 13 to see this movie. Do you have ID?” Gurberg questions another passing customer—who, by the way, is clearly older than 13. With faked exasperation, the client responds, “You’ve known me since I was 13! I’m Don’s kid.” Dollar Cinema has been open for just over a decade now, so some of his youngest customers have grown up with Gurberg.

Another unusual feature of the cinema is the number of volunteers. Normally, a cinema does not qualify as the sort of not-for-profit initiative that would justify such a need. Gurberg doesn’t recruit volunteers either—from what this reporter can tell, they start coming for the movies and they just sort of stick around to help.

“[Gurberg]’s a good egg,” confides one of the volunteers, who wished to remain anonymous. He and his brother have been volunteering at Dollar Cinema for six years now. They do everything from painting and plumbing to repairing the popcorn machine. It’s also a common sight to see patrons pick up not only their own cups and wrappers, but those left behind by others as well.

This kindness does not go unreturned. On two occasions I’ve suggested that Bernie bring in a movie—and both times he’s obliged (Snowpiercer (2013) and The Only Lovers Left Alive (2013)). I’m not the only client to get the VIP treatment either. In fact, he recently helped one man with his marriage proposal by reserving the small cinema and playing their favourite movie (she said yes).

In addition to providing entertainment at more-than-affordable prices, Dollar Cinema adds to the cultural scene by hosting an annual Jewish Film Festival, various fundraisers, and bringing in movies that other cinemas won’t (or can’t) screen like The Interview (2014). In collaboration with Ginny, one of the volunteers, Gurberg is also interested in producing a Chinese Film Festival in the near future. The festival will feature a series that documents the life of Dr. Norman Bethune, a Canadian surgeon famous for his humanitarian efforts and for bringing Western medicine to rural China during World War II. Dr. Bethune’s statue can be found near the Sir George Williams campus of Concordia University, just opposite Guy metro.

Gurberg has always felt a special connection with Concordia students; when he first opened his doors on June 4, 2004, his first two clients were students of the university. Those two clients visit the cinema to this day.

As a parting gift, he tells me that anyone who comes to the cinema and mentions this article gets a free bag of popcorn. “What would you like me to put as the expiry date on this offer?” I question, expecting an answer like “one week” or “the month of March.” “Well, that’s the problem,” Bernie says grimly. “The offer expires in 5,000 years.”

The Dollar Cinema is located at 6900 Boulevard Décarie, Montreal. (514) 739-0536

Open Michelle breaks glass ceilings, one joke at a time

There’s a great new trend in Montreal comedy. I’ll give you a hint: you enjoy them as litigation experts, plumbers, professors, and that nagging character on your favourite sitcom.

Sure, women are still paid less for the same jobs, but we have generally made great strides in virtually every industry—save one. For whatever reason, comedy is one of the few remaining occupations for which the notion that women aren’t up to the task is still a pervasive attitude. Famous names like Adam Carolla, Christopher Hitchens, and Artie Lang have declared that women just aren’t as funny as men.

Full disclosure: I am an (amateur) comedian. Within the Montreal comedy scene I’ve had overwhelmingly positive experiences. It’s not unusual for an open mic producer to send me a text along the lines of, “we don’t have any women on the line-up tonight—are you free?” Despite the generally excellent attitudes among comedians and producers in Montreal, I still hear from regular folks that women aren’t entertaining.

Women Aren’t Funny (2013) is a testament to the gender barriers that still exist in comedy. The film features comedian Bonnie McFarlane, who interviews professional comedians and the general public on whether or not hilarity is linked to testosterone levels. In the film, comedian Wanda Sykes comments, “if you’ve got a bunch of guys on the show, maybe four aren’t funny. But you just have one woman and she’s not funny, everybody’s like, ‘Ah! women aren’t funny.’”

By some logic, this is true: if there is only one woman on a line-up, and you don’t enjoy her performance, then 100 per cent of women that evening weren’t funny. The guys are winning by sheer numbers.

But the latest developments in the Montreal comedy scene work toward changing the stereotype of women as shrill and unfunny estrogen-ridden humans. Earlier this year, two initiatives celebrating women in comedy had their inaugural events.

I recently attended “Hey Gorgeous!,” an open mic produced by Women in Comedy Montreal’s founders Katie Leggitt, Lar Vi, and Erin Hall. After attending the Women in Comedy panel at the New York City Sketch Fest, Leggitt returned to Montreal inspired to build the comedy community and bring attention to the funny ladies of the city. What sets their show apart from the usual open mic? “There is a safety factor [at our show]. It’s such a supportive atmosphere performing with other women,” said Leggitt.

Indeed, there was something different in the atmosphere at “Hey Gorgeous!” The crowd received every performer warmly. Additionally, there was a delightful variety in the material and in the styles: meta-humour, and bits about stardom, poverty and hair-dryers were delivered through classic stand-up, song, and characters. While there are some spectacularly crafted dick jokes out there, it was refreshing to experience such a diversity of performances.

The other remarkable thing about the event was the absence of the usual “triggers”—cues that can flood someone’s senses with memories of past trauma. If you consider the statistic that one in six women will experience sexual assault in her lifetime, attending the usual open mic can be a minefield of triggers. As a performer (and generally sensible person), I support free speech as a fundamental human right. But I’ve also heard way too many trite, unoriginal, and flat-out bad jokes that trivialize sexual assault, homophobia, gender-based violence, and female stereotypes. Just because I support your right to say it, doesn’t mean I’m obliged to enjoy it.

Promoting an atmosphere free of the usual triggers and full of acceptance is the raison d’être of Open Michelle, the new monthly women’s open mic at Comedy Nest. I asked Peter Radomski, a comedian and one of the co-founders, the reason for creating an event that features exclusively female performers.

“The bitter reality is that at open mics, guys who are just starting out often feel like they have to be edgy—which can quickly turn into misogyny,” Radomski explained. “It’s also a response to the tired cliché that women aren’t funny,” he said.

What kind of audience do these events cater to? Anyone who likes to laugh will enjoy the show. While it’s exclusively women on the bill, Radomski reports that their first event attracted a healthy mix of men and women. So don’t worry boys: coming to this show does not mean entering a festering den of aggressive feminist chanting. As proof, Radomski assured me that at the last Open Michelle he wasn’t burned at the stake or tied up with biodegradable tampon strings.

A comedian first and a financial mind second, Radomski engineered a hilariously appropriate twist on the production side of things: the host of Open Michelle is paid 20 per cent more than the host for the usual open mic, in reaction to gender-based pay discrimination. We’re breaking the glass ceiling ladies, one joke at a time.

Ready to get your laugh on? Check out these upcoming events:

Open Michelle: Sunday, March 15 @ 8 p.m. at the Comedy Nest – $5. Visit the Open Michelle Facebook page to apply for a spot, or get the deets about upcoming shows.

Laff!: Saturday, March 21 @ 8 p.m. at Theatre Ste. Catherine – $8 students/$10 regular. An evening of sketch, improv, stand-up, and more! Visit the Women in Comedy Montreal Facebook page for more details.

Hey Gorgeous!: Tuesday, April 21 @ 7 p.m. at Theatre Ste. Catherine – $5 students/$7 regular. Visit the Women in Comedy Montreal Facebook page to apply for a spot.