Once upon a time, the movies were something magical. Lines like “Here’s looking at you, kid” were written into the collective unconscious and a few soft-focus close-ups gave us the most beautiful women in the world. Shown with newsreels and serials, a movie was a real experience, glowing from the screen in places with gilt arches and thick carpets. They were called “movie palaces” then, and they had names like the Paramount and the Alhambra.

Now, of course, it’s a grim shuffle from blowing half a day’s wages at the ticket counter to shelling out the other half for a Large Mega Combo at the concession stand. Coke and Verizon will bombard you with ads for a few minutes, and then you can sit back and watch the previews for future regurgitations of explosions, boobs and gay jokes. Or you can skip the hassle and just download movies without leaving your bed.

The wonder of cinema’s golden age has undeniably been lost. But here in the Twin Cities, a simple bus ride away in Columbia Heights, at least a hint of it can be recaptured. The Heights Theatre looks small and unassuming from the outside despite the tall, glittering sign that proclaims its name. Inside the auditorium, however, chandeliers twinkle, richly colored curtains drape the walls and ornate columns frame the screen.

My first visit to the Heights Theatre came last May when I saw a screening of an original 70mm print of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Before entering the auditorium, I eagerly examined lobby artifacts like an Italian Gone With the Wind poster, a painting of Greta Garbo and a grand piano. While the other customers and I waited for the movie to begin, the floor in front of the screen suddenly opened up, and a Wurlitzer organ slowly rose into the auditorium as the man in front of it cheerfully played “Bicycle Built for Two.” Owner Tom Letness then introduced the film by offering the audience yet another rare opportunity: archive footage of a 1968 BBC interview with 2001 star Keir Dullea.

Besides old movies, including more obscure studio-era films as well as classics like Casablanca, the Heights also shows new releases. Oscar winner Slumdog Millionaire has been playing there for several weeks.

The Heights was originally built in 1926 and was originally used for neighborhood plays and vaudeville acts. The place has been through fires and tornadoes in the last eight decades and, in 1933, a bomb was set off in front of the Heights as a result of a labor dispute between projectionist unions. By the time Letness and Dave Holmgren bought the building in 1998, the theater was rundown and struggling, showing last-run films at discount prices.

Under the new ownership, the building’s metal façade was removed to reveal the original brick storefront, and the windows and roof were replaced. A new sign, replicating the original from the 1930s, was hung in front. Inside, remodeling work over the years was stripped away to reveal the original orchestra pit and ornamentation around the screen. The antique chandeliers that now hang from the ceiling were some of the many auditorium fixtures bought by or donated to the theater from other classic cinemas or local buildings. Letness also replaced the screen and installed a new sound system and projectors.

Even if you’re not a film geek, the pleasure of seeing a film in style should not be missed. The Heights is currently showing a noir series that includes The Blue Dahlia and The Glass Key on March 9 (a double feature for just $8) and Phantom Lady on March 16.