Studio 35

Columbus's last remaining independent movie theater--Studio 35--is haunted by a man in 1930s clothing who is sometimes seen walking past the concession stand or along the screen. He's occasionally spotted in the seats, watching the movie along with everyone else, although he's always gone by the time the credits roll. His dress is appropriate, since the theater opened up just before the Depression, as the Indianola. (There are still frosted-glass I's in the round window frames.

A closet at Studio 35 was found by the new owner to contain albums of photographs of dead children. They were mixed in among group photos and wedding pictures from a church in southern Ohio. In the ninteenth century this sort of thing was considered acceptable, so it's not as evil as it might sound, but it's still a creepy thing to discover in a movie theater--and how it got there from a rural southern Ohio church is a real mystery.

I can personally confirm these stories because I worked at Studio 35 for several months in 2005, tending bar (they serve alcohol) and showing movies. Some relatively down-to-earth employees and managers knew all about their resident ghost and were happy to tell me all the stories. The previous owner, it seems, used to check the new print late each Thursday night, and the employees and their guests would take up the back rows. Sometimes while they watched the new movie, they would see the ghost, off to the right in his regular seat.

Other times someone working behind the bar would take a look down the aisle on the right and see him walking down the slope, then stop at what's become known as "the ghost's seat." It's the one on the far right end of the middle section, five or six rows back.

I looked many times, but I never saw the Studio 35 ghost, whoever he is.



Rubio, Josie. "Ghost Stories." Columbus Monthly Oct. 2003: 32-39.