Directly ahead, you’ll see the Plaza Theatre’s cream-colored Spanish Colonial Revival façade, topped with a scalloped parapet and shining with a bold marquee, nestled right between a bright white building and a tan one-just follow the bursts of color over the entrance!
Welcome to the fabulous Plaza Theatre-truly, the “Showplace of the Southwest!” Imagine yourself shaking off the Texas sun, and stepping through those gilded doors as the air conditioning-one of the first in public theaters in the United States-greets you with a chill you might have only dreamed about in 1930.
But let’s travel even further back: before dazzling lights and marquee letters, this spot was just an unassuming produce warehouse, run by the Schuster brothers. Now, you’d hardly find a more glamorous transformation-unless you found a pumpkin that turned into a carriage! In 1927, theater mogul Louis L. Dent bought this plot, promising to build something the whole city could be proud of. He kept his word: just a year later, construction started on what would soon become a western palace for films and live performances, designed by W. Scott Dunne, whose ghost must be delighted knowing his masterpiece survived when so many others vanished.
By September of 1930, El Pasoans crowded the Plaza’s seats-2,410 of them!-for the theater’s grand opening, dazzled by the twinkling ceiling that echoed the actual Texas night sky, and floating clouds projected overhead that must’ve made some people briefly wonder if they’d wandered outside again. Patrons marveled at lush carpets, intricate mosaics, Spanish-style parapets, and wrought iron fixtures. Even the humble popcorn felt fancy in this setting!
The Plaza called itself the finest and largest theater between Dallas and Los Angeles, and it had big stars to back that up: names like John Wayne, the Marx Brothers, Tallulah Bankhead, and even the legendary Rita Moreno all graced its stage. For moviegoers, there was always one special treat: the Mighty Wurlitzer Organ, a $60,000 marvel that could sound like galloping horses one minute and the ocean surf the next. It would rise up dramatically from the orchestra pit to serenade patrons before and after films, making every evening feel magical.
But as the decades rolled on, the winds of change brought clouds. Television arrived, drive-ins lured folks away, and suburban neighborhoods grew far from downtown. The Plaza’s grandeur faded and, by the 1970s, the once-showstopping theater fell into disrepair. Seats went empty, the lavish furnishings were auctioned off-someone out there is probably still bragging about that antique sconce hanging in their hallway. Even the Mighty Wurlitzer traveled to Dallas for a while.
The darkest moment nearly came in 1989, when demolition loomed. The Dipp family, eager to create a parking lot (every city’s favorite fate for historic buildings!), planned the theater’s end. But El Pasoans rallied: fundraising swept across the city and, at the eleventh hour, Rita Moreno herself took to the stage for a finale no one could forget. The news flashed: the Plaza was saved.
It would take another $38 million and years of loving restoration-plus a few headaches only historic buildings can deliver-before the Plaza’s doors swung open wide again in 2006 with multiple sold-out shows of Riverdance. Today, with the 2,050-seat Kendall Kidd Performance Hall, the cozy Philanthropy Theatre, a rooftop garden, and even meeting spaces, the Plaza is once again the place to be. Oh, and don’t worry-the one-of-a-kind Mighty Wurlitzer has come home and is still ready to fill the hall with wonder.
As you gaze at those glittering lights and that whimsical Spanish-style front, take a deep breath and soak in the energy of throwback glamour, community triumph, and just a touch of West Texas magic. Now, who’s ready for showtime?
