The Brief

This isn’t a story of stylish renovations, or of celebrity filmmaker intervention. This is the story of one family who fell in love with a movie theater and did (and even lost) everything to keep it up and running.

The single-screen Gardena Cinema has been owned by the Kim family since 1976, and has always figured out ways to serve its community — even through some very difficult financial times.

After struggling through a pandemic and ill-fated efforts to bring people back through its doors, Gardena Cinema finally hit some success after it stopped dealing with first-run releases and pivoted to repertory films. Many nights at this South Bay theater, you can catch a newish — or oldish — classics like La La Land and Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

The Kim family

The Gardena Cinema has always been a movie theater. It opened in 1946 as the Park Theatre, and operated consistently through the years showing first and second run feature films until it went up for sale in the 1970s.

That’s where the Kim family comes in. John and Nancy Kim immigrated from South Korea and had the goal of operating their own business. They dabbled in a few different industries when Nancy found the theater.

“My mom fell in love with it as soon as she came and saw it,” says current Gardena Cinema owner Judy Kim.

It's an incredible space, tucked between a gym and a Superior Grocers on Crenshaw Boulevard. It’s way bigger inside than it looks — at 800 seats, it’s easily one of the biggest theaters in the city. For comparison, The Chinese in Hollywood seats 932.

Listen 22:39

Apple

Spotify

#250: As we continue our series "Revival House," How To LA producer Victoria Alejandro is taking us to the South Bay of LA and the Gardena Cinema. The theater has been owned by the Kim family since 1976, and is now a non-profit run by Judy Kim and a team of 40 volunteers. Kim has saved the cinema from closures a handful of times now, and has recently pivoted to showing repertory films at the theater.

Listen to the How to LA episode

#250: As we continue our series "Revival House," How To LA producer Victoria Alejandro is taking us to the South Bay of LA and the Gardena Cinema. The theater has been owned by the Kim family since 1976, and is now a non-profit run by Judy Kim and a team of 40 volunteers. Kim has saved the cinema from closures a handful of times now, and has recently pivoted to showing repertory films at the theater.

Subscribe

• Apple
• Spotify

There are still fireproof window covers in the projection room, a holdover from old film screening safety practices. And there are “cry rooms” upstairs from the 1940s, balcony seating with speakers and a glass window where patrons could sit with a crying baby and not interrupt their viewing experience.

Kim reminisces about her father using a pole hand to change the letters on the marquee. However, she admits that she lacks the arm strength for such a technique, which led her to invest in a scissor lift.

(

Zaydee Sanchez

/

LAist

)

Kim updates the marquee letters approximately once a week to reflect the upcoming movies that will be showing at the theater.

(

Zaydee Sanchez

/

LAist

)

Now it's got that vintage hue.

“Now it's cool! It's really cool!,” says Kim. “Now that I have dreams of trying to raise money to make changes, people are like, don't change anything!”

The early days

When the Kims bought the theater, they saw an underserved audience in Gardena. There was a drive-in theater nearby in Torrance called the Roadium that played Spanish-language movies every Wednesday, and the place would be packed.

One day, Judy Kim says, her parents decided to change the format of the theater from English speaking second-run movies from Hollywood to second-run Spanish language movies. In the 1970s and the 80s, the Kims named the theater Teatro Variedades — “variety theater” in Spanish — and focused on Spanish-language films and live events with Latino filmmakers and actors. If the Torrance drive-in was ever rained out, or if folks wanted to catch a movie in Spanish on another day of the week, they’d head to the Gardena.

“It was meant to be like a neighborhood theater that was typical in the post-war era,” says Kim. “There was always a neighborhood movie theater that you could walk to from your home, just a few blocks away … all of those theaters are now gone.”

The Kims held on to their theater and in 1995 renamed it the Gardena Cinema. Judy Kim and her brother helped run the theater and neighborhood kids showed up too, offering to clean or help out in other ways in exchange for a movie ticket.

It served as a community hub.

“We were almost kind of like a Boys and Girls Club,” recalls Kim. After the movie, kids “would hang out in the lobby, and we would play video games, or talk about what was cool and what was not and, as an adult at that time, I made sure that all the kids that were here did their homework.”

“I tutored them,” she adds. “I made sure that they were doing OK in school.”

Kim always expected them to go to college.

Trouble sets in

Despite the joy found in the theater, like most teens, Judy Kim wanted to get away from her parents and spread her wings, so to speak. She left for college out east and had dreams of moving to New York and becoming a Broadway producer.

Then the calls started coming — a lot of calls from her parents. Sometimes twice a day, begging her to return to L.A. She didn’t really understand what the urgency was all about, but she came home and found her parents — and the theater’s — finances in disarray.

“I realized that they were under extreme financial hardship, and they were embroiled in lots of legal problems,” she says.

Kim explains that her parents had been defrauded multiple times. The Kims lost their house, their car. To help, Judy Kim went to law school, became a lawyer and dug in to help untangle them. It took almost 15 years to get everything sorted. “We were basically surviving off of, like, 99 cent hamburgers,” she says.

The upside in all of this — and the part of this story that might be the reason Gardena Cinema is still around — is that about five years ago, Kim negotiated the purchase of a parking lot.

It was a big-time play. Gardena is one of very few independent theaters in L.A. with its own parking and, says Kim, “it saved our butt when the pandemic came.”

“Nobody was open and I had this big parking lot that I could show movies outdoors where people could sit in their car, safely, away from other people and watch a movie,” she says. “All they had to do was tune into the FM station that I told them to tune into.”

A bumpy road to recovery

As theaters in the city started welcoming folks back inside, the Kim family then had to navigate another major loss. “That time period is when my mom was fighting cancer,” says Kim. Nancy Kim died in 2022.

An altar of Kim's mother, Nancy Soo Myoung Kim, is placed in the lobby of the theater in remembrance of her beloved mother.

(

Zaydee Sanchez

/

LAist

)

John and Judy Kim closed the theater and took a few months to grieve. Judy Kim sold her condo and moved in with her father, putting that money towards the cinema.

“And then I said to my dad, we’re running out of money.”

The Gardena Cinema reopened with Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, expecting it to be a huge hit. But only 10 people showed up to the first screening. Reopening the cinema with first-run movies meant that Kim was actually losing money.

New releases are “loss leaders” for movie theaters. Most of the ticket price is going straight back to the film’s distributor, and contracts mean that new films have to be shown for a certain number of weeks. If a theater isn’t bringing in enough audience members to turn a profit on concessions, theater owners are spending more than they’re making by running a first run film.

“So 2023, I’m running out of money,” says Kim. She says her father was ready to retire and use his “senior citizen card for all the national parks.” Why not sell the theater? Neither Kim nor her brother have children, so “there’s nobody to leave the theater to,” she says.

The theater hit the market, but didn’t sell.

Judy Kim made another last ditch pivot and came up with another plan: “I’m going to set up a nonprofit organization.”

With her father’s blessing, Kim began the process in April of 2023. The theater got official recognition as a nonprofit in July. Between that and the success of summer films like The Super Mario Bros. Movie and Barbie, the Gardena Cinema had a future.

Volunteer 'grandchildren'

Judy Kim was now running a theater and a nonprofit entirely on her own. But, as she learned years earlier, you can’t underestimate the number of people willing to trade work for a free movie. It took months, but Kim now has a team of 40 volunteers who help her run the theater.

“I’ve got a really good core group of people that are very supportive.”

It’s those volunteers who convinced Kim to move away from first-run movies and start programming repertory screenings. Without the strict scheduling and tiny profit margins of a first-run movie, Kim suddenly had a lot more flexibility. If she needed to step away and take care of her father, or just close the theater on a slow night, those options were now on the table.

Movie posters adorn the lobby walls of the Gardena Cinema.

(

Zaydee Sanchez

/

LAist

)

The Gardena Cinema volunteers are invaluable to the space. They run concessions, clean the theater, sell tickets, run the projector — and this past November, Kim left the theater in their hands entirely to take a trip with her father. “They did a fantastic job … it’s still standing,” she says.

Cifen, a local filmmaker, helps organize events in the theater. He put together a singles’ night and a screening of his independent film, Age of Embellished Relic, this past February. He calls the theater a “safe haven.”

Conor Holt makes the drive to Gardena from East Hollywood. A former ArcLight Cinemas employee, he says he cares about making sure cinemas stay open. “If you care about something, you gotta go the extra mile.”

Adela Tobon used to manage a single-screen movie theater in Northern California. A friend told her about the Gardena Cinema and she says, “I just lost it. I’m like, this is exactly where I belong.”

And Bill DeFrance has taken over a lot of John Kim’s duties in the cinema — cutting trailers, ripping tickets at the box office, building the show in the projector.

It’s a family affair for DeFrance too. On Valentine’s Day, he programmed Wild at Heart — his and his wife’s favorite movie. “I programmed it for Valentine’s Day so I could be at the theater and on a date at the same time.”

A sign his daughter made hangs on the side of the ticket booth, and boldly states in red crayon: “NO PRANK CALLS!”

“For a long time, my dad was like, well, we don’t need to leave a legacy. There’s no grandkids,” says Kim. But the volunteers pipe up with a chorus: “We can be your grandchildren!”

Gardena Cinema owner Judy Kim.

(

Zaydee Sanchez

/

LAist

)

Judy Kim is now planning on leaving an endowment for the theater, so it can continue after she and her family have moved on. And intentional or not, the Gardena Cinema now has a legacy of community building and a fighting spirit.

Keep an eye on the Gardena Cinema’s calendar. You can catch anything from a karaoke party screening of La La Land to Dawn of the Dead in 3D to film festivals featuring shorts from local filmmakers.

Throne, the smart restroom company at dozens of Los Angeles Metro stations, reached a milestone of 1 million uses last week, the company said.

Metro has partnered with Throne to provide public restrooms since 2023, starting with high-tech toilets at three public stations.

In advance of the World Cup, Metro and Throne wanted to expand their presence in Los Angeles. The company completed those installations on June 4, days ahead of L.A.'s first World Cup match on June 12. Now, 64 locations are operating across the Metro system, according to Throne.

Before the partnership, Metro had just a few publicly accessible restrooms across its coverage area.

In a social post marking the occasion, Throne wrote, “Here’s to the next million.”

Sen. Lindsey Graham, R- S.C., died late Saturday night following a "brief and sudden illness," according to a statement released by his office. He was 71.

His office did not immediately reply to a request for information on his cause of death.

Graham served in the House of Representatives from 1995 to 2003, when he succeeded Strom Thurmond in the Senate. He was reelected three times and recently won a primary election as he sought a fifth term.

Graham served in the U.S. military for more than three decades. After graduating from the University of South Carolina's law school, he served as an active duty Air Force lawyer for six years. Graham later served in both the South Carolina Air National Guard and Air Force Reserves and retired from the military in 2015 at the rank of colonel.

Senate Majority Leader John Thune called Graham "a strong advocate for the United States and a strong ally to freedom-loving countries across the globe," in a statement posted on X. "Lindsey fought passionately for the Palmetto State. He was a trusted adviser and colleague to me and many others, and numerous presidents and heads of state have relied on his counsel."

President Trump shared a remembrance on his Truth Social platform: "Senator Lindsey Graham, one of the greatest people and Senators I have ever known, is dead! He was always working, and was a true American Patriot."

His death comes at a difficult moment for the Senate Republican conference, which has struggled with a narrow majority that includes a handful of outgoing members who occasionally break ranks to oppose the president.

Sen. Mitch McConnell, a Kentucky Republican, has missed votes during an apparently ongoing hospitalization for an undisclosed health issue, further narrowing the margins for Thune to pass legislation and confirm executive and judicial branch nominees.

Legislative legacy

During his near-quarter century in the Senate, Graham served as chair of two key committees and was instrumental in enacting Trump's policy and staffing priorities.

As chair of the Judiciary Committee during much of Trump's first term, Graham oversaw the confirmation of Justice Amy Coney Barrett to the Supreme Court and of scores of federal judges.

Last year as head of the budget committee, Graham shepherded the president's landmark tax package, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, to passage despite unanimous Democratic opposition and thorny negotiations with his Republican colleagues.

An adaptable and sometimes controversial deal-maker, Graham was the last surviving member of an influential group of Senate defense hawks known as "the three amigos," alongside the late Sens. John McCain, R-Ariz., and Joe Lieberman, a Connecticut Democrat-turned-Independent. The group was a fixture of congressional delegations to conflict zones.

Graham was among the most vocal supporters of the U.S.-Israeli military campaign against Iran.

"Israel has lost one of its greatest friends. America has lost a great patriot. I have lost a beloved friend," Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said in a statement posted to X. "Our hearts are with Lindsey's family and with the American people at this difficult time."

Graham also sought the Republican presidential nomination in 2016 and staked a lane as a fierce critic of Donald Trump. In a 2015 CNN interview, Graham referred to then-candidate Trump as "a race-baiting, xenophobic religious bigot" who doesn't represent the views of the Republican Party.

In the decade since Trump's victory, though, Graham has become one of the president's staunchest advocates. A longtime friend and ally of McCain, Graham attributed his transformation to a sense of patriotic duty.

"I am not going to give up on the idea of working with this president. The best way I can honor John McCain is help my country," he told CBS News in 2018.

Sen. Lindsey Graham, R-S.C. (left) gestures as President Trump speaks with reporters while in flight on Air Force One as they were returning to Joint Base Andrews, Md., on Jan. 4.

(

Alex Brandon

/

AP

)

A frequent Trump golf companion, Graham hewed closely to the president in his recent Senate primary election — his campaign website touts the president's "Complete and Total Endorsement."

Graham was born in Central, S.C., in 1955 and lived with his family in a single room behind their liquor store, restaurant and pool hall, according to his campaign biography. His parents died while Graham was still in school. After their death, Graham became the primary caretaker of his younger sister, Darline, whom he eventually legally adopted.

In a statement on the social media platform X, South Carolina Gov. Henry McMaster described Graham as "irreplaceable," adding, "We shall not see his likes again."

McMaster, a Republican, will appoint a successor to serve the remainder of Graham's term. A replacement Republican nominee for this fall's general election race will be determined by a special election in August.

NPR's Brian Mann and Claudia Grisales contributed to this report.
Copyright 2026 NPR

A program that helps connect schools and libraries to the internet at discounted rates is under review by the Federal Communications Commission. Educators and advocates are bracing for the funding to shrink or be eliminated.

The so-called E-Rate program, created in the 1990s, has considerable bipartisan support. The agency's recent focus on the program has left educators, including David Thurston, on edge.

Thurston oversees technology for the 33 school districts nested inside San Bernardino County. The area covers more than 20,000 square miles of Southern California: "We have mountain regions, far-flung desert regions, and then our urban and suburban areas. We're a really diverse county," Thurston says.

The county already built the infrastructure to get internet access from the edge of Los Angeles all the way to the state's eastern border, but the spending doesn't end once the fiber-optic cables are installed. Internet access bills come monthly.

"There's no doing without," he says. School districts "are gonna have to pick up the costs."

For San Bernardino districts, that's tens of thousands of dollars every month.

"Those are ongoing, essentially, utility costs," he says. "That's what E-Rate pays for."

A 'healthy' program 

E-Rate has had a notable impact since its founding. It was created by Congress in 1996, when only 14% of schools and libraries could access the internet. That number is now near 100%. The FCC has overseen the program through both Democratic and Republican administrations, so when the agency announced a full review of the program in late June, some were confused.

"By its own data and its own measurement, the program is healthy," Thurston says. "The program is doing what it needs to and is important."

Others saw this coming. The Project 2025 blueprint singled out federal broadband policy as a target for cutting agency spending.

Current FCC Chairman Brendan Carr helped write that chapter of the document, compiled by the conservative Heritage Foundation, which was meant to guide the second Trump administration.

Less predictable was the chairman's reasoning for reviewing the program: kids getting too much screen time. In the now-approved notice of proposed rulemaking, the FCC calls for a review "to better protect children when using E-Rate-funded networks, including to limit screen time."

His prepared statement at the commission's June hearing focused heavily on the dangers of screen time for kids and the growing body of research around it.

Since January, states including Alabama, Tennessee, Utah and Virginia have passed some form of legislation that calls for reevaluating technology's role in teaching and testing, and more than 10 other states are considering similar restrictions. The Los Angeles Unified School District, the second-largest in the country, recently approved a policy to limit screen time for its students.

Some advocates for limiting screen time at school say gutting E-Rate funding isn't the way to reduce how much time kids are spending on devices.

"We believe there are ways of strengthening school policies to promote more limited and privacy-protecting use of EdTech without taking away critical E-Rate funding," said Josh Golin, executive director at Fairplay, a nonprofit focused on digital safety for kids, in a statement to NPR.

Although states and districts are searching for ways to limit screen time, few — if any — are looking to operate without the internet altogether. Many schools rely on internet-based systems to track attendance, monitor school bus routes and give tests required by their state. According to the National Center for Education Statistics, 48 states now have some kind of online component with exams.

Bob Bocher, a senior fellow with the American Library Association (ALA), says that because the program is written into the Telecommunications Act of 1996, the FCC likely cannot fully eliminate it. And last year, the Supreme Court ruled that the Universal Service Fund, which collects the money that schools and libraries in turn use to lower internet costs, is constitutional.

But the FCC could change the way the E-Rate program is run to make it more complicated, so the ALA is still worried.

Bocher, who helped work on the original law back in the '90s, worries the program could become so onerous it drives schools and libraries away by design.

"It's like death by a thousand cuts," he says, "death by a thousand rules and regulations."

Keeping up with the rest of the world

While internet access has expanded significantly since 1996, internet pricing and options haven't changed the way Bocher or his contemporaries expected.

"A common assumption that a lot of people had [was] … competition will evolve," he says. "And then drive down the price."

In cities, this may be true, but for many rural and remote areas, competition for internet service providers, or ISPs, is nonexistent.

"In rural Alaska, we don't have numerous options," says Patrick Mayer, superintendent for the remote Alaska Gateway School District. "We have one provider."

His district, where some students rely on planes to get to school in the winter months, has just under 400 students. Still, the district spends more than half a million dollars per year to ensure it has internet access at its six schools. The price tag is high, but the connection is what allows them to keep up with the rest of the world.

"It means the difference between having a school in the 21st century," Mayer says, "or a school in the 20th century."

The expansion of connectivity in his district allows students to take dual-enrollment courses online with a local college and access virtual speech and occupational therapy.

"To backfill that funding," he says, "would be very, very difficult."

He imagines there would be no way around cutting down on staff and student services to find money to pay the district's entire internet bill. For now, he's focused on making some noise.

Once the FCC officially publishes notice of its planned review, the public can comment for 60 days. After that, there will be a reply comment period of 30 days, followed by a full review of all of that input by the agency. The process can take a long time, but Mayer and other advocates are already working to draw attention to the issue.

He spent a few days this month in Washington, D.C., to meet with legislators about the importance of keeping Alaska's students connected.

A park is a city’s heart and soul. At its highest calling, it’s a community’s conscience.

Such is the case with Ascot Hills Park, 93 acres of hiking paths and native habitats built 20 years ago in the Eastside neighborhood of El Sereno, thanks to a retired civil engineer and residents who wanted the land to return to nature — and to the community.

"There was nothing there," said Val Marquez, one of those residents, who's lived in El Sereno for more than 50 years. "It was just hillsides, fenced off for the most part."

Ascot Hills Park took 20 years to build.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

Ascot Hills Park.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

Today, dirt trails are molded into the hills. Some dip down to a lush canyon of native trees and shrubs fed by a small stream.

Others take you higher — way higher.

“On a foggy morning, you can go to the east ridge and you're above the clouds,” said Raymond Rios, another early resident behind the efforts. “Or you can go on a beautiful evening to the west ridge and look at what the Lord painted in the sky.”

View of downtown L.A. from Ascot Hills Park.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

Back to nature

The idea of a park came up as early as 1930 but never came to pass.

In the 1990s, Jerry Schneider was getting a master's degree in landscape architecture, a passion of his after retiring as a civil engineer. His thesis fieldwork took him to El Sereno. He and his colleague saw an ideal site in its dormant hillsides — a place to turn natural landscapes into hands-on classrooms for students from two nearby high schools.

"The area was the subject of a lot of political ideas and proposals that did not resonate with me or a lot of the community," Schneider said. Those ideas included a sports complex, proposed in 2000, that would have leveled the hills.

Jerry Schneider at Ascot Hills Park, with the amphitheater in the background.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

Jerry Schneider at Ascot Hills.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

At a community hearing attended by Antonio Villaraigosa — who went on to represent District 14 on the City Council and later became mayor — Schneider remembered, "We lined up all the students and science teachers and others and we all basically told Antonio the neighborhood wants an open space. In fact, nature — it could be the main theme of the park."

How to build a park

Ascot Hills Park.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

Money came through Proposition 40, a 2002 parks bond, and a lease was hammered out between LADWP — which has owned the site for over a century for water storage — and the Department of Recreation and Parks.

"Nothing happens by itself,” said Schneider, who lives in Mount Washington, of importance of Villaraigosa's buy-in.  "He was key because we needed political support."

The park opened in 2006 with little more than a gravel driveway and a few rocks to sit on — what old-timers call Phase 1.

Raymond Rios helped build Ascot Hills Park.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

Val Marquez helped build Ascot Hills Park. Later, he built the El Sereno Arroyo Playground, where he is at.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

"We were ready to have a ribbon-cutting and we were just waiting for the state to pay for the bill, basically," Marquez said. "And they came back and said, 'Where's the bathroom? You forgot the bathroom.'"

The full park — amphitheater, benches, picnic tables, a restored stream, new trails — didn't open until 2011, delayed three years by the Great Recession.

"Jerry [Schneider] made sure that it stayed as a natural habitat," Marquez said. "If it wasn't for him, that could've been a development. That could've been a regular park with soccer fields."

Slow, steady work

Today, the 86-year-old Schneider runs the park's monthly volunteering program and can still be found at Ascot a few times each week, pulling out weeds and checking in on the native plants and trees planted by volunteers over the last two decades. Students from Wilson High drop in to help out routinely for class credit.

Demian Willette chairs the park's volunteer advisory board. He is also conducting research on urban habitat restoration at Ascot.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

Since 2024, an experiment to grow a micro-forest of California natives has been underway over a 10,000-square-foot plot. It's thriving, despite minimal watering and upkeep, proving there's a cost-efficient way to restore habitat anywhere in this city.

"After two years, it's self-sufficient," said Demian Willette, a Loyola Marymount University biology professor who is leading the research. "You plant it, you let it go. You let nature take over."

Willette also chairs Ascot's volunteer-run Park Advisory Board, part of a new generation of stewards that include Lluvia Arras, who remembered what Schneider said when she first started to volunteer.

"He reminded me that it's slow, steady work," Arras said. "He's like, 'One day you're gonna look back and you're gonna see the progress and feel proud.'"

Lluvia Arras is among a new generation of volunteer park leaders at Ascot.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

Their advocacy didn't stop at Ascot. Marquez, an original Park Advisory Board member, went on to build the El Sereno Arroyo Playground in 2012, informed by his experience at Ascot.

Rios, the current secretary, is active at neighboring Hazard Park. In the mid-2010s he worked with residents to beat back a USC proposal to improve its Health Sciences campus that would take away parkland.

"Not only are we park advocates," Rios said. "We're community advocates."

They are one and the same thing.