DAVID MARCUS: What everyone is REALLY talking about after Barbenheimer… How our once magical movie theaters are now expensive Soviet-era miserable, overpriced and understaffed, marred by violence and filth.

For the hordes of Americans rushing back to theaters this weekend for the rare treat of a summer blockbuster, a sinking realization awaits.

The magic of the movie theater is gone, and probably, forever.

Barbieheimer, the dueling cast of two would-be Hollywood hits, Barbie and Oppenheimer, may have given us a false sense of hope.

But anyone who has recently settled into a rubbery upholstered seat to watch the latest Tinseltown movie knows what I’m talking about.

The enchanting silver screens of our childhood have been transformed into haunts of dreary darkness and even danger.

Video emerged this week of a shocking attack on a 63-year-old man in Florida, who had the temerity to ask a couple to move from the pre-assigned seat he had purchased.

The younger assailant lunged at the man, knocking him to the ground, before punching him in the face, as the trailer for the new Mission Impossible movie played in the background.

Sure, that can happen anywhere, but it says a lot about going to the movies today.

It’s about as much fun as getting punched in the face.

Movie companies are in a death spiral.

When we all went into COVID lockdowns, studios cut production, their current inventory went straight to streaming, box office sales fell off a cliff, and theaters closed their doors en masse.

Between 2019 and 2022, 2,165 US theaters, more than 5 percent of the country’s screens, closed for good.

Barbieheimer, the dueling cast of two would-be Hollywood hits, Barbie and Oppenheimer, may have given us a false sense of hope. (Top) Ryan Gosling, left, and Margot Robbie in a scene from Barbie

Many of those who survived are left with a limp. Ticket prices have gone up (the national average is $10.53 from $9.16 in 2019) and the quality of the experience has gone way down.

It’s not just the threat of physical violence that mars the post-pandemic movie trip.

The entire experience is a damp, depressing metaphor for a society that barely knows how to function in public anymore.

Walking into your local movie theater, once filled with the sounds of video games, wild children, shy couples on charming first dates, and an air of excitement, feels like trudging into some sort of Soviet-era Costco.

At the stalls, when they are open, one can wait in line for hours for the privilege of spending the approximate price of a fine Parisian dinner for a bucket of stale popcorn or strangely greenish hot dogs.

The shelves, once filled with a wide variety of sweets and treats, are empty.

With a second mortgage worth inedible snacks on her hands, she fumbles on her phone to find her exact seat, which was purchased online, of course. God forbid we have too much human interaction.

Gone are the meritocratic days of first come first serve. Once, if you had things together, you got to the theater early and earned yourself a prime spot in the middle of the audience.

Now the rich and frivolous rule. Those willing to pay extra for a ‘preferred’ seat can make it to the back of the queue for upcoming attractions, only to step and bump into patrons who had the consideration to arrive on time.

And those who refused to pay a premium end up in the front row craning their necks at a 90-degree angle.

If you’re lucky enough to make it to your seat without being mugged, the lights sometimes go completely out, sometimes not, sometimes it’s cold, sometimes it’s hot.

Sticky floors and musty smells seem to whisper, ‘we’re understaffed, just deal with it’.

The sloppy guy who took your ticket, also worked the concession counter, sweeping the floors and restocking the men’s room.

Theaters clearly cannot afford to hire enough workers or pay their employees enough to care about them.

When there are staff to be seen and dealt with, they are of a Gen Z variety, who are so obviously offended at having to do a job that you almost feel sorry for asking them for help.

The younger assailant lunged at the man, knocking him to the ground, before punching him in the face, as the trailer for the new Mission Impossible movie played in the background. (Above) Movie theater attack suspect flees scene

Walking into your local movie theater, once filled with the sounds of video games, wild children, shy couples on charming first dates, and an air of excitement, feels like trudging into some sort of Soviet-era Costco.

Half the time, while you’re waiting for trailers, you get the suspicion that a voice might be coming from above and intoning, “Does anyone know how to run a projector?”

The harsh reality is that many people would rather watch the big screen in their living room than the bigger screen in their local multiplex.

But isn’t this one more reason to bring back the majesty and power of traditional cinema to seduce us with nostalgic wonder and grandeur?

Americans need the movies. It is part of our heritage, of our tradition. It was once an affordable middle-class luxury worth every penny. Now, it feels like paying for an insult.

To truly recover from the Covid lockdowns we need to have good things back. We need bustling restaurant districts, packed office buildings, clean and safe subways, and yes, we need movie theaters to be an oasis, not a reminder of all we’ve lost.

To paraphrase a one-time blockbuster, if you apply a coat of paint, mop the floor, and treat customers right, they’ll ‘come’.

On the other hand, if they only offer us dirt, a hostile face, and theaters with all the charm of a storage center, then this once-diamond industry will fade to dust.

And if movie theaters go the way of video stores, something of great value will be lost. Our children will never know the magic and wonder that we all take for granted.

Let’s not let that happen.

Now get off my lawn!