Another change is the technology. While they may have been a few years behind their indoor counterparts, most outdoor cinemas have made the switch from film to digital, which ensures they can show the big-budget pictures on opening weekend.
Many theaters, like Bloomer’s Skyview Drive-In, have also upgraded their sound system. Instead of those vintage silver speakers, theaters have adopted an FM system that allows customers to play the film through their own stereo. This has improved the customer experience—Bloomer says before the switch that “whenever people would come into the drive-in, and they would drive around to find the speaker that would work.”
And while these theaters may have their origins in the 1940s, they’re not limiting themselves to decades-old marketing tactics. One way to get more people in the seats—or in this case, cars in the lawn—is to run a Groupon deal. It’s a 21st-century compliment to a quintessential 20th-century experience.
Because his theater 80 miles from Washington, DC and 100 miles from Baltimore,
Kopp says “I have to pull people in. Groupon is pulling people in for me, and I have [customers] who say, ‘I didn't even know there was a drive-in until I saw it on Groupon.’”
“They’re getting tired...”
If you look at the data for how many drive-ins are left, the numbers look dire—of the 4,000+ outdoor cinemas that existed during its 1950s heydey, fewer than 10% remain. There are none left in Delaware, Louisiana, or North Dakota, and only one left in Maryland, Rhode Island, Nebraska, and New Jersey, among others.
But the way that Steve and Jim talk, it's not Netflix or Hulu or Disney or some invisible-yet-insidious new technology that makes the drive-in an endangered species. The biggest reason why drive-ins are closing is the rising price of land.
“Unfortunately down the road I see it deteriorating,” Kopp says when I ask about the future of outdoor cinema. “The land’s going to be more valuable.“
It’s a familiar tale: the land that a drive-in sits on becomes prime real estate. This particular theater might be profitable, but not nearly as profitable as another business would be on that land (a shopping center, a hotel, a gas station, etc.) The owner sells the property, developers swoop in, and another theater bites the dust. Take, for instance, the Super 29 Drive-In in Fairfax, Virginia, which used to be one of Kopp’s favorites. In 1987, it closed down and Costco moved in.
Now, why would an owner sell, knowing that would mean the end of a beloved theater? Kopp says, for the most part, it’s simply a matter of the owner needing to retire.
“I'm 65, most of them are in their 70s, 80s, and they're getting tired,” he says. “But there's not enough people that want to take on the drive-in as a business, not enough younger folks in their 30s and 40s.”