After the initial curiosity, are families of four really going to keep dropping more than $125 for a matinee movie? And what about the packs of teenagers, or the girls'-night-out crews, who make up such a large portion of most movie audiences? How can anyone afford this place? showing of Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children. Obviously iPic is designed to be more of a special date destination than an everyday movie theater, though that doesn't explain who's going to be filling those $32 seats for an 11:45 a.m. The kiosks out front speaks to you in a British accent. The upstairs restaurant and bar, called The Tuck Room, has a library theme for some reason, with chainmail (?) draping from the ceiling. There are legions of black-clad staffers slinking around the hallways, all of whom make eye contact and say hello and wish you well. Poppy dance music plays loudly in the lobby. The vibe of the whole three-story complex feels very clubstaurant, from the dramatically-lit ticket "booth" to the faux-industrial finishes to the murals by street-artists like Dasic Fernandez, Joe Iurato and Mr.
Eating the stuff isn't exactly relaxing, however, as the seat tray is too far away from your mouth to function as a proper platform, so you have to really lean awkwardly forward or risk having it all fall on your shirt. Thankfully my $16 basket of chicken fingers and $18 bready pizza were not terrible.
And unlike at Nitehawk Cinema, where you write your order on a card and hand it silently to your server, all such communication at iPic is verbal, so be prepared to listen to your neighbors banter with their waiter about which wine is fruitier, or fall prey to an upsell for truffle fries during the movie. Premium Plus VIPs can order booze, snacks, or a full dinner at any time before or during the movie, just by summoning your server via a call button on your seat tray.