The recent pandemic may have exacerbated certain harsh realities of the theatrical marketplace, and hastened changes in how and where people consume scripted entertainment. But any hardcore cinephile will tell you that the arthouse scene — where non-English language films, documentaries and independent-minded American productions serve as conversation starters for curious and passionate moviegoers — has already been suffering mightily over the last decade, trending downward in a variety of disheartening ways.

The affecting nonfiction offering Only in Theaters delves into precisely this topic, by way of telling the story of the struggle to stay afloat of the preeminent Los Angeles-based arthouse cinema chain, a beloved and family-run enterprise.

After quitting his job in his late 30s and buying up a series of nickelodeons before then transitioning into the film rental and distribution businesses, Carl Laemmle challenged Thomas Edison’s monopoly on moving pictures, and in 1912 co-founded Universal Pictures. During an influential tenure that would last nearly 25 years, Laemmle would name his son president of production at the studio, but also extend a helping hand to many family members abroad (as well as hundreds of other European immigrants) seeking a better life in the United States.

The success of director Raphael Sbarge’s movie lies in how it utilizes this one extended family portrait as a type of stand-in for a melancholic rumination on the entire future of theatrical exhibition with regards to serious, thought-provoking fare in an era when the only sustainable twin pillars seem to be franchise tentpole entertainments and the numbing, narcoleptic warmth of ever-present streaming.

After all, if the city most synonymous with American moviemaking gives up on the communal arthouse filmgoing experience — of watering the seeds that grow a mighty oak, as one interviewee here puts it — what does that say about the future of cinema, and indeed American culture at large?

With grace and affability, Only in Theaters establishes the Laemmles as a family whose first spoken language may technically be English, but one who chiefly connects emotionally by way of movie quotes. Owing as much to their love for art, culture and the global vision of film as to any connection to production, the family views exhibition (not wrongly) as part of the extended language of cinema.

In 1938, Carl Laemmle’s first cousins, Kurt and Max, opened the original theater of what would become the premier arthouse chain in Los Angeles — establishing and, over the decades, re-dedicating itself to serving as a beachhead for big screen culture. Viewers get to bear witness to the chain’s long commitment to quality independent filmmakers and the best of international cinema. The central figure in all this, present-day, is Greg Laemmle, Max’s grandson, who finds himself juggling the heavy weight and considerations of legacy as modern economic realities, and then of course COVID, force change and compromise upon him.

Befitting a movie about family, Only in Theaters also functions as a portrait of warm domesticity. In addition to his father Robert, Greg’s wife Tish and adult sons Nadav, Ezra, and Gabriel feature prominently in the movie. Among a small clutch of other familial interviewees is his great-aunt Alyse, who turns 106 by the time of the movie’s end.

Still, Only in Theaters boasts an engaging roster of recognizable faces as interviewees. Collectively, they add color and broader context to the story of the Laemmle chain. Among several famous writers and directors appearing are Cameron Crowe, Ava DuVernay, Bruce Joel Rubin and Allison Anders. There are also insights and reminiscences from respected critics Leonard Maltin and Kenneth Turan; Roger Christensen, the Laemmle Theaters general manager for 30 years; and the directors of several local mini-festivals, like Vera Mijojlić and Vladek Juszkiewicz, for whom Laemmle’s venues are understandably important.

While effective as an audio-visual historical document for the first half of its running time, the film’s final half-hour charts the unthinkable — the bombshell onset of COVID, and the further havoc and devastation it wreaks on the exhibition sector. Here, through bi-weekly zooms with Sbarge, one witnesses some of the physical manifestations of the stress Greg is experiencing, as over and over potential re-opening dates get postponed, and the pandemic grinds on. Eventually, Greg is forced to offload two properties (and put another one in escrow), and then sell the family’s condo and move to Seattle, working remotely while still trying to save money.

Presented in a widescreen aspect ratio of 2.35:1, Only in Theaters comes to physical media via Kino Lorber in a regular DVD case, with two English language audio options — a 5.1 surround sound mix and a 2.0 stereo track. As one might surmise, the sound design for the film is fairly straightforward, and all the interviews captured here are crisp and clear. A more ambitious production might have attempted to interweave more archival audio elements, highlighting certain aspects of the Laemmle chain’s history, but the sidestepping of this particular technical lift isn’t missed in any concrete way.

Bonus features consist of an agreeable audio commentary track from director Sbarge, who confesses no small amount of bewilderment and uncertainty over trying to determine the termination point of his movie. With so many filmmakers prone to authorial certainty, it’s refreshing to hear Sbarge confess to finding form in sometimes happenstance fashion.

In addition to a black-and-white alternate opening sequence that attempts to literalize the movie’s historical reach, and, yes, the film’s theatrical trailer, other supplemental extras include around one hour and 50 minutes of extra interview material with the aforementioned roster of interviewees, including Crowe, DuVernay, Rubin, Turan, Maltin, Christensen, David Snyder, Isaac Wade, and more.

It’s more than a bit ironic, of course, watching a film called Only in Theaters at home. (The movie had a healthy run in loads of discrete markets coast-to-coast, and even in Australia and Canada, but especially prominent along the west coast and at a number of Jewish film festivals.) But Only in Theaters is a rich and fortifying watch, and it thankfully isn’t fanciful enough to peddle easy solutions, or clear skies on the horizon. It’s funny and sad and at times emotionally piercing, but most of all it’s honest — a quality we should all want more of in movies, big and small.