Alejandro Jodorowsky's 1973 surrealist masterpiece unfolds on the big screen at The Beverly Theater, a hallucinatory journey through alchemy, power, and spiritual awakening that has cemented itself as a cornerstone of midnight movie and cult cinema culture. Following a thief who ascends a mysterious tower alongside a cast of grotesque, symbolically-charged characters representing the planets, the film assaults the senses with saturated color, bizarre imagery, and a narrative that abandons conventional storytelling in favor of pure visual and philosophical provocation.

Watching this one in a proper theater setting matters. The film's density of imagery, its layered symbolism drawing from tarot, alchemy, and religious iconography, and its deliberately disorienting pacing all reward the kind of focused attention that a dark room and big screen provide. The Beverly's intimate main theater, with its strong acoustics and modern comfort, offers a fitting home for a film that's spent decades building its reputation through underground screenings and word-of-mouth reverence among cinephiles who treat it less as entertainment and more as an experience to be endured and dissected afterward over drinks.

Expect a crowd that skews toward serious film lovers, midnight-movie veterans, and the curious who've heard whispers about this one for years. It's not a film that explains itself, and that's rather the point.