The History of the Rio Theatre

The Rio Today

The Rio Theatre has been providing East Vancouver with a dash of retro flair since 1938 (although to be fair at that time its flair was probably considered more contemporary than retro). These days it's known for its nostalgic signage and storied history which is hard to miss if you've ever stepped inside.

From signed government documents to life-sized statues of (probably) Charlie Chaplin, the Rio has it all. Although its history is scattered over every square inch, it lacks plaques, labels, or any real indication of what any of these items mean or how they relate to the theatre. Fortunately for me, the folks who work at the Rio have kept up to date with the building's assorted quirks and a greeter by the name of Alex was kind enough to give me a comprehensive tour.

Beyond the wild assortment of films the theatre shows, which range from new to old to alternative, and some fairly exceptional popcorn, the Rio has become a staple for live shows. Most recently the band Lick the Pole graced their stage to accompany the Canadian rock film, Hard Core Logo.

The History

Since its early days the Rio has passed through a veritable cornucopia of different owners, one of which you can still see hints of if you take a careful look near the centre of the cinema's flamboyant marques.

It has also managed to serve a shocking variety of purposes from a political gathering point to the memorable occasion in 2020 when it briefly designated itself as a sports bar for a few months in an effort to stay open and raise funds during the lockdowns of the COVID-19 pandemic.

The Insides

At this point the theatre sports a more eclectic look inside than it once did. One of the last film reels left in the cinema is carefully watched over by a pair of giant googly-eyes. A signed Kevin Smith poster tells the story of one of the many times the Rio has only just managed to avoid being shut down while a document signed by the mayor of Vancouver documents the Rio's victory in its battle for BC movie theatres to be granted liquor licenses. Scattered throughout the cinema are a plethora of photographs of the theatre from various points in its history showing constant change while a few recognizable traits such as the classic sign seem impervious to time.

Beyond the assorted history of the theatre's owners the building itself serves as something of a time capsule for cinema as a whole. Although the film projector has long since left the building, its replacement, (a boxy digital disappointment that lacked the photogenic qualities to be pictured here) is still housed in a bunker-like projection booth that was originally built to contain a chemical fire back in the days when film was extraordinarily flammable. The sturdy steel door has since been removed for ease of access in the less life-threatening digital age. But the ladder and escape hatch the projectionist would have used to evacuate themselves from the booth are still present. Like the Rio itself they serve as a somewhat lackluster reminder of a more whimsical and dangerous time.