Last night I saw “Under Great White Northern Lights” at the Burton Theatre in Detroit.

It was perfect.

The former Burton International School building turned independent cinema and art studio seemed the proper venue to pay tribute to  The White Stripes‘ minimalist ethos. Whether the one-night-only show landed at the Burton by happy accident or by design, I’m glad I saw the documentary of the Stripes’ 2007 Canadian concert tour there instead of at the multiplex in the suburbs.

Bear in mind, I’m a hardcore White Stripes fan. I would watch their movie in an alley if necessary. At least part of what made this night perfect was Burton’s intimate auditorium dressed in velvet curtains, art-deco fixtures, and polished wooden floors. Like the historic concert venues the Stripes prefer, the building bears the artistry and scars of a bygone era.

I’m not a frequent moviegoer. I pick my shows carefully. I tend toward the smaller, art house offerings.

When an e-mail alerted me to the sneak preview of “Under Great White Northern Lights,” the Burton was an easy choice. Even though I hadn’t heard of the Burton, I was intrigued by the idea of an alternative movie house inside a school built in 1912. My heart breaks every time I witness another death of the old Detroit. It also soars with joy when I discover the buds of rebirth flowering amid the ruins.

The White Stripes have built a reputation around the idea that there is value in that which has stood the test of time. They take a minimalist approach, use antiquated instruments and recording equipment, and avoid the easy route. Their latest tour takes this ethic to the extreme. They perform shows on the windblown tundra, before aboriginal elders, on a lane in a bowling alley, at a flour mill, and on a moving bus.  To them, nothing worth doing well will be easy.

I see this little movie theatre the same way. It’s a challenge to start a theater in an empty school in a downtrodden part of town. It’s a risk to revitalize a decimated neighborhood one building at a time.

It would have been easier to level the old building and walk away. I could have watched the movie in the safety of the well-lighted suburbs just 10 steps from the closest Starbucks.  But it was more than the large coffee from the concession stand that had me giddy last night. This revitalized building, this band, this idea that something new can come from the old and discarded makes me a proud Detroiter.

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• Film review: Under Great White Northern Lights (guardian.co.uk)