How do you recommend a porn theater? Steve Koltai, owner of Montréal’s historic Cinéma L’Amour, might start by telling you to watch it on your phone. “You want to watch the newest movie out there? Watch it on your cell phone. That’s not my business anymore,” he told IndieWire. “My business is giving you social interaction, fulfilling a fantasy.”

That makes suggesting Koltai’s establishment for a movie outing a bit more complicated than your typical midnight movie. Pitch a little trip to Cinéma L’Amour, and there’s instantly a question of intent. Are you appreciating its crimson interior and risky atmosphere from afar — or suggesting an immersive experience that warrants more discussion with a… partner? (Priest?) Hell, even an overeager endorsement of its gift shop can invite some very private questions around the city.

“I’d say a majority of the people that buy our merchandise have never been here,” a Cinéma L’Amour tour guide told IndieWire this past summer, amid the 30th annual Fantasia International Film Festival. “But they love the fashion part.” Dakota Johnson has been photographed rocking the porn theater’s merchandise. But in Québec’s largest city — which has its own local constellation of film celebrities — the logo carries a hometown significance that doesn’t need Hollywood’s approval.

Koltai remembers doubting his son Devyn’s suggestion to sell tote bags. “We sold thousands, thousands of tote bags,” he said. “I didn’t realize how important tote bags were.”

The movies still play, with the program changing each week, but they share the heart of Cinéma L’Amour with plenty of other attractions. Tourists pop in for a quick look around, while music fans sometimes come for raves and concerts. Yes, people masturbate and have sex here. But Koltai and the guide also described lesbian and trans nights, as well as recurring rentals by a local feminist group. A cashier called the mix of older patrons and artsy employees “half ‘Cheers,’ half ‘Cruising.’”

“You wouldn’t expect it for a porn cinema type thing, but it became more than that,” the guide said.

There are plenty of ways to participate, and just as much room to wonder what everybody else is getting out of it. (Putting into it? Sorry.) It’s a fascinating preservation project, no doubt. But for a taboo exhibition business whose competition now fits inside the patron’s pocket, what, exactly, is being kept alive?

The venue now known as Cinéma L’Amour opened as the Globe in 1914, presenting films and live entertainment in the heart of Montréal’s Jewish community. Yiddish films were among its offerings in the 1920s and ’30s. Renamed the Hollywood in 1932, it later pivoted to adult titles as the Pussycat(!) in 1969(!!). The picturesque horseshoe balcony and ornate interior survived the programming shift, and still give Cinéma L’Amour its undeniably regal feel today.

Before the Koltai family took over the spot in 1981, Steve’s father, Ivan, had already expanded from distributing erotic films to exhibiting them. In the 1970s, he’d built an adult cinema in Hull, Québec, about two and a half hours from Montréal by car. Steve remembers tagging along on his father’s drives and seeing audiences treat the porn theater like a proper evening out.

“The mom and dad and the adults would dress up like they’re going for dinner, but they’re coming to watch a movie,” he said. Customers arrived for the seven or nine o’clock show, with matinees on weekends. The audience dressed for the occasion, even if most of the actors… didn’t.

Championing genre — and adult film is its own genre — means cultivating an audience willing to take a chance on somebody else’s taste. In Montréal, Nicolas Archambault sees people getting practice long before they enter any kind of theater. “I think it’s been acquired without us knowing it because we’re a land of immigration,” said Fantasia’s director of Asian programming, who has spent 18 years programming for the festival.

Asked what makes the city receptive to unfamiliar art, he pointed to the everyday pleasures of living among different cultures: the restaurants, music, and films. He described walking down a street where Caribbean music gives way to Lynyrd Skynyrd from a passing truck. Encountering somebody else’s favorite thing becomes an ordinary part of the day. “It’s just normal,” Archambault said.

Open-mindedness needs somewhere to become a habit, and keeping a place for unfamiliar work gives an audience time to develop — without requiring every movie to justify the existence of the room. At Cinema L’Amour, room to experiment also requires clear limits.

The upstairs couples’ section and the more open downstairs offer different experiences. The posted rules, offered in both English and French, spell out consent: “‘No’ means no — and silence also means no.” Koltai asks visitors to communicate their expectations and boundaries, but acknowledges that people can feel violated and that staff aren’t always present or equipped to monitor encounters.

Keeping the doors open takes some decidedly less mysterious work. The family owns the building, where apartments accommodate short-term rentals. Cinema employees help with laundry, cleaning, maintenance, and guests’ needs. The staff sustaining the fantasy have a whole property to look after.

“It’s only because we own the building that we’re able to survive,” Koltai said.

The merchandise business reaches well beyond the city’s local film scene. The guide listed France, New Zealand, Australia, and Japan among the destinations for orders, but said Trump’s tariffs had interrupted shipments to the U.S. Koltai later confirmed that tariffs had affected the business while clarifying that American orders were continuing: “We still ship,” he said, wryly.

Customers keep suggesting more products. But Koltai would prefer to manage the shirts, sweatshirts, and all those damn tote bags already taking up so much space, first. (Suffice to say, a porn theater need not become a full-service supplier of shower curtains.) One shirt, though, means more to him than most inventory. The cinema recently recreated a ringer tee Steve’s late mother wore in the early-1970s. Now he can show customers the picture when anyone considers buying it.

“She’d be honored to know that we’re still continuing,” he said, reflecting on the joy of turning a cheeky souvenir into an excuse to talk about his late mom.

Ivan, still alive at 93 when Steve spoke to IndieWire, wants the family business to endure. But Steve said Devyn had left the business six months before the interview, and Steve describes relying heavily on a longtime administrative employee and other staff who care about the theater. Being busy hasn’t settled who will eventually take over: “Actually, I want to slowly fade out of it,” the elder Koltai said. “I’m consumed by it because we’re busy, our merchandising is busy, our short-term rentals are busy.”

His commitment comes with a practical condition. “As long as I can keep it open and survive and it’s feasible,” he said, “I’ll keep it open.” Before hanging up, he had one request about explaining the business to strangers: “Just keep a little bit of a mystery, OK?”

Two Fantasia attendees who spoke to IndieWire on condition of anonymity were willing to explain their own visit. He hoped for a taste of the vintage adult theaters he’d seen in documentaries. She’d mostly heard gossip and read Reddit.

A friendly concierge explained the setup and handed them a clean sheet. They settled into a nook in the couples’ balcony and progressed from watching the screen to having sex themselves. “Something about the charmingly seedy red-lit environment just brought it out in me,” she wrote. “We bought a bunch of cool branded merch to commemorate the experience and were on our way.”

Her partner had one note for the programmer: “If I could change one thing, it would have been the movie. It was basic contemporary pornography,” he said — adding the couple would still come to Cinema L’Amour again.

Skip to content

Skip to content