PERRY: Don’t let Holmes terrorize Aurora again; the show must go on at Century 16 theater

In deciding what’s to become of the Aurora cinema where James Holmes massacred 12 people and maimed or terrorized hundreds more, it’s not about what theater owners should do, it’s all about what you will do.

It’s been almost six weeks since failing grad student James Holmes made a name for himself here and around the world by opening fire inside the crowded Century Aurora 16 theater. Last week, city officials poked at the still aching public wound by asking residents what they think Cinemark, the theater’s owners, should do with the building outside the Town Center of Aurora Mall.

As painful as even such a consideration is — and I would never be so presumptuous as to think that what most of us feel is anything compared to those who were killed, maimed or terrorized by Holmes — I’m glad the city nudged on this because it means that we need to move on, and that I guess we are moving on.

But to where? While most people have a reflexive response to the question, there’s a lot to consider.

The problem with places where horrific things happen is that people too easily associate the horror with the place, rather than the perpetrators. The theater is a cinema that had no part in the massacre. It’s not like a Nazi death camp, which was designed to house and facilitate atrocity.

By abandoning the theater, it no longer remains a building, but another way for Holmes to victimize all of us again. I fume at the idea of abandoning this theater, or even remaking it into some other sort of store or something. It aggravates me that we would allow Holmes so much power.

My instinct is to insist that Cinemark reopen the theater and stare down Holmes and every sick bully in the world like him.

But here’s the reality. Would you go back to that theater to watch a movie? Would you be looking for bullet holes in the wall? Blood stains? If Cinemark re-opens the facility, should it close off Theater No. 9, where Holmes focused his savagery?

It’s all about fear and imagination. I know I’m hardly the only one in the country who after all these years since the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks still sizes up everyone at the gate to wonder if they have a bomb in their pants. For a lot of people, it would be agony to sit in that theater and have their heart stop every time someone stood up during the film to head to the john or the snack counter.

And for those of us cursed with vivid imaginations, it might be impossible to see anything there but places where people hid in terror and died in pain.

The temptation is to over-think this. Would creating some kind of memorial inside the theater be crude or insensitive? Or would it seem callous to push back against Holmes’ obscenity and shun connecting him to a movie theater forever? If Holmes had chosen a local grocery store or a crowded park for his scheme, re-opening would be the obvious choice.

Money is the issue here. Cinemark must decide if there will be a profit in running the building as a theater again. It isn’t corporate cold-heartedness; it’s just that the number of dollars coming in must exceed that number of dollars going out, or the decision to close for good is made by default.

And so the future of the theater actually depends on you and me.

I’ve thought long and hard about if and why I would go back. I flinch when I think about going to that theater to honor Holmes’ victims. It rings hollow. I flinch when I think about watching a comedy in a place where so much horror took place. But in the end, I recoil at the idea of handing over so much personal and public influence to a monster like Holmes. I relish the idea of diminishing the control of terrorists and bullies even if it’s as hard as I imagine going back would be. I would go back. And you?

Reach editor Dave Perry at 303-750-7555 or dperry@aurorasentinel.com