Sound Cinema: The Egyptian In Memoriam

SIFF Egyptian’s awning over the theater entrance

The Evergreen Echo

The building which houses the Egyptian Theater, known for the last decade as the SIFF Egyptian, was built in 1916. The building started out as a Masonic Temple with the space the theater occupies as a hub for community events. In 1980, Dan Ireland and Darryl Macdonald, the co-founders of the Seattle International Film Festival, renovated the space and made it into an Egyptian-themed movie palace like the theaters of the early 20th century. 

Seattle Central College bought the building that houses the Egyptian in 1992 and leased the theater space to independent movie chain Landmark Theaters. As Landmark began to shutter nearly all its Seattle area theaters in 2013, SIFF, now a player in theater exhibition, began the process to take over the lease on the space, and after some renovations the space reopened as the SIFF Egyptian in October of 2014.

Just over a decade later, in November of 2024, a water pipe on the fourth floor of the Egyptian's building burst, flooding the space. The damage required the space to be shut down for repairs. On October 9, 2025, SIFF and Seattle Central College "mutually decided to end SIFF's current lease at the Egyptian." The theater will remain closed indefinitely. 

It is a loss to the filmgoing and arts community of Seattle.

At its reopening in 2014, the Egyptian was a first run movie house for arthouse cinema and international films, much like it was under previous management. Toward the end of its lifespan, the Egyptian became the venue where SIFF would host more of its revival, restoration, and thematic programming. It is where Noir City and Scarecrowber found enthusiastic crowds. It is also where SIFF hosted Capitol Hill's pinkest party in July 2023 with joyously raucous showings of Barbie.

The theater lent itself to these kinds of screenings and events because it was so versatile. The lobby was not that exciting (it was even a little cramped). The snack bar to the left of the entrance even more so, but had a cozier lounge vibe. Yet, walking around the large, circular wall that was the back wall of the theater felt electric. As soon as you came around the corner you saw a wide center walkway. Sloping above were three sections of seats separated by two aisles. Above that was the balcony section reserved for theater overflow. Down below were another three sections, also sloped and separated by two aisles. Just below the screen was a stage—not just a platform to walk across—but an actual stage with depth and a screen that felt as big as any screen could. The walls and columns that were on either side of the stage kept to the Egyptian motif, which gave the theater a lovely bit of kitsch and camp.

It's hard to remember the last film I saw at the Egyptian. You don't always know it’s the last time when it is the last time. I know I saw several films there for SIFF 2024, including my eventual favorite of the year, Ghostlight. Yet, when I think of the impact of the Egyptian on my moviegoing life, I remember with distinct clarity seeing Moonlight for the first time when it came out in November of 2016. 

I had known Moonlight was going to be a good film and that it may affect me, but staring at that film on the big screen in that sacred place was a life-changing experience. Even when (and I still can't believe this happened) a fellow theater patron dropped a glass jar of some kind of round candy, breaking the jar and sending the candies cascading under the seats for a thunderous few seconds…my eyes remained glued to the screen. Afterward I was so worked up and so in awe that I didn't think twice and decided to walk from the Egyptian on Broadway and Pine the four miles to my apartment in the U District. I was shaken to my core. That walk helped me to achieve a catharsis with the film. I had nearly two hours of uninterrupted time to process what I had just experienced.

Brick façade of SIFF Egyptian as housed in Seattle Central College’s Fine Arts building

The Evergreen Echo

Film and film spaces have a way of doing that to us. We can go into a space in one mood and come out in a completely different mood. The space is as important as the film in that way. If we're uncomfortable, the ticket taker or concessions person is rude, an audience member brings a bizarre snack that they cannot keep a hold of, or there's an issue with the quality of the screening equipment, we can be completely turned off. I had a few experiences like that at the Egyptian, but the incredible experiences outweigh any of those by a wide margin. It became my favorite theater.

Writing about the Egyptian in the past tense hurts. It feels like a punch to the chest every time I walk by the building and see that the posters haven't changed and the doors remain closed. Yet, the building endures. It may be one day that the theater has gone through enough repairs and Seattle Central College is once again ready to lease the space. It has happened. It happened earlier this year when Tasveer took on the recently shuttered Ark Lodge Cinema. 

I have hope that the Egyptian will find new life and I can wait, hopefully not too long, for that enchanting walk around and into a space that feels more like home than many others I have ever been in.

Zach Youngs

(he/him) Zach's life is made better by being surrounded by art. He writes about his passions. He is a freelance film critic and essayist. He loves film and devours books. He seeks the type of cinema that gives him goosebumps and prose that tickles his brain. He wants to discover the mysteries of the creative process through conversation and a dissection of craft.

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