For somebody who spent his entire life working in the entertainment industry, Tom Kiefaber apparently failed to learn lesson No. 1: Leave 'em wanting more.

Mr. Kiefaber is coming to the end of his long tenure running North Baltimore's historic Senator Theatre, and he's not going quietly. The Baltimore Development Corp., which took possession of the theater after the city foreclosed on Mr. Kiefaber last year, has ordered him out by Sunday. It wants turn the facility over to new owners with a plan for making the troubled movie palace financially viable, and Mr. Kiefaber has all but threatened to handcuff himself to the popcorn machine. He's arguing about whether the city has given him proper notice to vacate and whether it has the right to do so before Baltimore finalizes its deal with the theater's new owners. He's saying he may have to remove the projection and sound equipment to protect it.

Baltimore owes Mr. Kiefaber a debt for his passionate effort over the years to keep alive a single-screen theater that served as an Art Deco reminder of the glory and glamour of the film industry's golden era. But the events of this past week remove any doubt that Mr. Kiefaber's mission at some point stopped being solely about the Senator and started being about Mr. Kiefaber. It is time for him to let go.

In fairness, the Senator has always been at least a little bit about Mr. Kiefaber. It was his passion and his ability to rally support for the theater that his grandfather built during the Depression that helped muster city and state aid to keep the reels running during a series of financial problems. His presence permeated the theater, and he was part of the show in the trademark monologues he delivered on tape — or, for special occasions, in person — before the previews, urging patrons to tell their friends, "There's no better way to see a movie than on the big screen at the Senator."

The problem is, as the years went on, that was only partially true. The Senator has the biggest screen, the best picture and the best sound of any theater in the region. But the seats are painfully uncomfortable, the air conditioning is unreliable, and the roof leaks. The Senator is the ideal place to see big event movies — if people were camped out for tickets, it was at the Senator — but much of the time, a single-screen business model was just not viable. Mr. Kiefaber had plans, always plans, to revamp the theater, but they never came to fruition.

If he saw his tenure at the theater as a movie, it would be the kind where a passionate underdog hero and his scrappy band of friends are trying to save a beloved institution from an evil, faceless mega-corporation that wants to raze it and build a parking garage. But that's not what's happening here. The new owners aren't some heartless out-of-town sharps but Buzz Cusack and his daughter, Kathleen. Mr. Cusack is the man who took over the dilapidated Charles Theatre and turned it into vital part of Baltimore's cultural firmament and an anchor asset for the Station North Arts District.

Mr. Kiefaber has long considered Mr. Cusack an enemy, accusing him of conspiring with the movie industry to keep certain films out of the Senator, but the moviegoing public simply sees him as someone who knows how to run a great theater. The Cusacks plan to replicate their successful model in Belvedere Square — perhaps a little too literally; they are talking about adding tapas and crepes restaurants to the Senator, exactly like they have at the Charles — and to add a smaller, second screen. They are putting up $400,000 and plan to fix the building's structural problems. Their plans will require scrutiny to make sure they preserve the historic nature of the theater, but conceptually, their ideas honor what the Senator has always been about but update it for the 21st century.

Mr. Kiefaber, who has been running the Senator on a month-to-month basis as the BDC has searched for new owners, could pursue in court his dispute about whether the city has properly followed its agreement about when and how it could force him out. But why? Even if his interpretation is correct, he would accomplish nothing besides delaying the turnover at the theater by, at most, 90 days. He would get one more summer at the theater he loves, but it would be for his sake, not the Senator's. If Mr. Kiefaber hopes to maintain what good will remains for his work over the years, he should take the chance to exit the stage with grace.