As I near the end of my fourth year, I’ve heard many excuses for why students haven’t gone to the Stanford Theatre, that perennial mainstay of University Avenue with the old-fashioned marquee and flashy neon lights.

“Oh, you mean Borders?”

— Frankie Frosh

No, Frankie Frosh, that capitalist haven might resemble the Stanford Theatre on the outside, but inside it is a despicable tribute to corporate conformity. The Stanford Theatre, on the other hand, is a place of wonder and beauty.

A Greek / Assyrian style movie palace, the Stanford Theatre first opened its doors in 1925. In 1987, the David and Lucille Packard Foundation purchased the theatre to preserve the historic building and to provide a venue for films from Hollywood’s Golden Age. The theatre’s programming consists of 100% classic films, mostly from 1920 to 1965.

“Classic? Isn’t that a synonym for boring?”

— Susie Sophomore

Hardly. The décor alone packs more excitement than any of those crappy movies That Guy in your dorm ripped the other day. Plus, they sell popcorn for less than two bucks. How you can beat that? Not to mention the fact that a professional organ player pops out of nowhere at the end of the show, performing to your heart’s content. Clearly, this theatre is an experience that extends far beyond the movie itself.

Besides, have you seen the crap that’s in multiplexes these days? “Racing Stripes” is about a talking zebra. “Elektra” is fast outdoing Daredevil and Punisher as the worst comic book movie ever. “White Noise” is about household recording devices. If I wanted to be scared shitless by the so-called “electronic voice phenomenon,” I could have just as easily turned my stereo volume on really high, downed a few shrooms and let the fun begin . . .

“But I hate romantic comedies. They’re so formulaic.”

— Jimmy Junior

Alright, so it’s true that many classic films are romantic comedies, and that many of those romantic comedies have a rather simplistic formula — guy meets girl, guy falls in love, girl resists, guy persists, and then they abruptly hook up at the end, conveniently omitting the part where he ditches her days before the wedding and she is left to raise an obnoxious crying brat out of wedlock.

Nevertheless, the actors and actresses back then possessed qualities that few kids in show business have today: charisma and talent. Keanu Reeves in “Sweet November” versus Fred Astaire in “The Belle of New York?” Who are you kidding? Britney Spears in “Crossroads” versus Audrey Hepburn in “Roman Holiday?” Don’t even bother.

“Alright, so you’ve sold me. But I’m a frosh and have no car.”

— Shirley Senior

Yeah, whatever. I’ve heard that one before. It’s a ten-minute bike ride and half-hour walk from most dorms. You could use the exercise . . . being that it’s January and just after the holiday season, I’m guessing you’re halfway toward your Freshman 15. And even if you’re too “cold” to bike or walk (as if you actually had the right to whine about California winters), the Marguerite sends plenty of shuttles downtown and back (not that I’ve actually used it for such ends, but I hear it works and shows up on time these days). And if all else fails, borrow a car — you can always seduce that upperclassman with ambiguous promises of sexual favors.

Wait a minute. Your last name is Senior . . . are you even a frosh?

“Fine, so I can get there. But it’s still too expensive.”

— Greasy Grad

The student price is cheaper than a lunch at Stern Dining. And it’s a double feature. You have no excuses left.

“Alright, so what if I can afford it? I’d rather watch [insert latest Hollywood film here] at [AMC/Century/Regal] [insert number between 12 and 85].”

Go to hell, you capitalist scum. Because of people like you, the whole world will be a multiplex in a few decades.

If you too hearken for the simpler days of filmmaking, check out the Stanford Theatre (www.stanfordtheatre.org), located on 221 University Ave. just across the street from Pizza My Heart. Yes, that’s right, just across the street from the place where you live off of the “free slice” coupons you pilfer from all those copies of the Stanford Directory and Unofficial Guide. The weekend of January 28-30 will be the last weekend of a tribute to Fred Astaire, who is regarded by most as the greatest dancer to ever grace the silver screen. Eat your heart out, Honey Daniels.