Carol:
For Your Viewing Pleasure
I loved to hear my father talk about the nickel Saturday matinees he went to with his kid brother in the 1920’s, and especially the Tom Mix westerns. When I was growing up 30 years later, we would go to movies in Westwood Village, including the landmark Fox Village Theater, which had opened in 1931 within walking distance of UCLA where my parents were students at the time. My favorite movie theaters have always been those with a great history and a family story to match.The opening of the La Paloma Theater in Encinitas, California in 1928 was attended by the Hollywood elite, including Mary Pickford. Like all of the original silent movie theaters, it was equipped with a beautiful organ. From 1977-82 Marc and I lived just a few miles north of the theater and often went to the La Paloma to see an off-beat or vintage movie or attend concerts by such folk legends as Tom Paxton. The 1970’s atmosphere was beach- style casual and a little worn out. Its distinctive feature was a “laid back” renovation: the side rows had been converted into lounging platforms where movie goers could lean back with their legs up just like a a couch….very comfortable, too comfortable. One Halloween we invited a friend along to see a double feature of the original Dracula and Frankenstein. Marc and I both fell asleep during the first feature, and when we woke up at the end of the second feature, our friend and all the other patrons were gone.
The Grand Lake Theater in Oakland opened in 1926 near the end of Lake Merritt on Grand Avenue. Unlike the La Paloma, this theater retains its distinction as a “movie palace” thanks to several renovations (and despite periodic threats of closure). Although several smaller adjacent retail stores had been subsumed to make the theater into a multi-plex, the foyer is still richly decorated, and the central, Egyptian-style theater still houses a Wurlitzer organ that plays for 15-20 minutes before some weekend shows. We used to go there when visiting Megan in college and living at the other end of Lake Merritt. Our last time was a Christmas Day 2003 showing of Will Ferrell’s Elf with three generations of Hammond family in attendance, organ music included.The Prescott Elks Opera House opened in 1905, ideally located a block from the Courthouse Square, on the streetcar route and an easy walk from the railway depot. The first movie shown at the Elks was Birth of a Nation in 1916, and silent films were accompanied by a small orchestra. Tom Mix lived in Prescott for several years around 1916, filming movies in the area. While on location here in 1927, Mix and his film crew produced a benefit for Prescott’s then Sisters of Mercy Hospital. Despite the sudden death of his father 2 days before the performance, Mix met his obligation and sold out the Elks with ”. . . a variety show with music, singing, dancing, and vaudeville routines. It brought down the house, and netted the Sisters of Mercy Hospital nearly $1,200” (source: Parker Anderson).
By the time we arrived in 1983, the Elks Theater no longer showed films except for special events but returned to its theatrical roots with live plays and seasonal variety shows. The only Tom Mix movie I have seen was at an Elks Theater benefit just a few years ago. The screen was new, the historic ceiling and chandelier were spiffed up, just the right combination of the new and the old.
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| Tom Mix 1919 |
Watching Tom Mix was great, but the best entertainment was the older ladies in the row behind me. I loved listening to them reminiscence about the nickel Saturday matinees at the Elks theater. . . and especially the Tom Mix westerns.
Sources:
Anderson, Parker. “Tom Mix sold out the Elks to benefit the Mercy Hospital.”
Sources:
Anderson, Parker. “Tom Mix sold out the Elks to benefit the Mercy Hospital.”
Megan:
Screens, Present and Past
I go to the movies often. Yesterday I saw The Tourist with Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp. I mean, they were in the movie. I didn’t see it with them. I saw it by myself.
Some people don’t like to go to movies alone. Usually, I prefer it – and then I like to see the movies again with people so I can see what they think. If you are a regular reader, you already know this…
People have suggested that I should write movie reviews, and then I could deduct the cost of the tickets as a work expense. The thing is, I’m not very good at explaining why I like a movie or not, why it is good or not, or why someone should see it or not. I generally have a gut instinct whether someone will like a movie, based on what I know about them as a person, but I’ve never been able to say much beyond “You’ll like it. It’s good.” I’m almost always right though. These are my thoughts on The Tourist : I thought it was funny, but the reviews are probably going to be negative. I was often the only person laughing. And I’m weird.
The only movie theater in Prescott is a Harkins 14. It is generic and not worth describing -- every strip mall has a multi-plex like it. I know my mother has written about the Grand Lake Theater in Oakland, because she asked me a couple of times the name of it. I think it is unfair of her to write about it because it is mine. I lived across the lake from it for my last year of college. I went to movies there as often as I could, stopping first at Colonol Mustard's for a hotdog (they snap when you bite into them). The Grand Lake stands at the intersection of two of the greatest streets in Oakland, Grand and Lake Shore – great if you live there, because of the sushi, coffee shops, bars, independent bookstores, bagel place and 24 hour donut shop. You never know you need a donut at 3 AM until it’s available and then you’re like, ohmygodthisisamazing (but only if you’re a college student).
Anyway, my roommates and I went to the Grand Lake as often as possible because we liked to support local business and because the politics of the owner lined up with our own (ie, bleeding heart liberal). Plus it was just so damn cool, with the Egyptian decor, old fashioned super steep stadium seating and uncomfortable, tiny gold upholstered chairs and an organ that rises and sinks into the floor.
So, the real exception to my seeing movies alone rule is scary movies. I can’t watch them by myself, not even at home in a well lit room. We went to see The Exorcist at The Grand Lake when it was rereleased. When Linda Blair bent over backwards and ran down the stairs on her fingers and toes, I think I screamed louder than anyone and my housemates held my hands for the rest of the movie. That was the creepiest thing I have ever seen in a movie, followed closely by the baby on the ceiling in Trainspotting and afterwards, for the walk back to our house, we were giddy, in that way that only comes after being truly terrified and then relieved. We danced along Lake Merritt, past the sleeping geese and the groups of kids wearing hoodies, baggy jeans and chains, walking packs of pit bulls. Nothing felt dangerous after seeing that movie. And there was nothing like seeing an old black and white scary movie after a man in a costume played an organ that disappeared into the stage.
And now, for your viewing pleasure:
The only movie theater in Prescott is a Harkins 14. It is generic and not worth describing -- every strip mall has a multi-plex like it. I know my mother has written about the Grand Lake Theater in Oakland, because she asked me a couple of times the name of it. I think it is unfair of her to write about it because it is mine. I lived across the lake from it for my last year of college. I went to movies there as often as I could, stopping first at Colonol Mustard's for a hotdog (they snap when you bite into them). The Grand Lake stands at the intersection of two of the greatest streets in Oakland, Grand and Lake Shore – great if you live there, because of the sushi, coffee shops, bars, independent bookstores, bagel place and 24 hour donut shop. You never know you need a donut at 3 AM until it’s available and then you’re like, ohmygodthisisamazing (but only if you’re a college student).
Anyway, my roommates and I went to the Grand Lake as often as possible because we liked to support local business and because the politics of the owner lined up with our own (ie, bleeding heart liberal). Plus it was just so damn cool, with the Egyptian decor, old fashioned super steep stadium seating and uncomfortable, tiny gold upholstered chairs and an organ that rises and sinks into the floor.
So, the real exception to my seeing movies alone rule is scary movies. I can’t watch them by myself, not even at home in a well lit room. We went to see The Exorcist at The Grand Lake when it was rereleased. When Linda Blair bent over backwards and ran down the stairs on her fingers and toes, I think I screamed louder than anyone and my housemates held my hands for the rest of the movie. That was the creepiest thing I have ever seen in a movie, followed closely by the baby on the ceiling in Trainspotting and afterwards, for the walk back to our house, we were giddy, in that way that only comes after being truly terrified and then relieved. We danced along Lake Merritt, past the sleeping geese and the groups of kids wearing hoodies, baggy jeans and chains, walking packs of pit bulls. Nothing felt dangerous after seeing that movie. And there was nothing like seeing an old black and white scary movie after a man in a costume played an organ that disappeared into the stage.
And now, for your viewing pleasure:
I am not a movie-going buff like Carol and Megan, but I have had several memorable movie viewing experiences. In 1949, when I was nine, my Grandmother "Two-Mama" took me on a city bus to downtown Shreveport, LA to see a new Tarzan movie. Kids theater tickets had only risen to .10 by then, and I loaded up on popcorn, coke, and multiple candy bars all for under a buck. What she didn't realize was that this was a Saturday matinee double feature: 2 movies, a Buck Rogers serial episode, several cartoons, and a lengthy newsreel. Luckily, the Tarzan movie was the second feature and she reluctantly sat through the entire afternoon's
ReplyDeleteentertainment offering. Looking back, I think she had a secret crush on Tarzan star Johnny Weissmuller.
My most memorable movie experience was watching "Love is a Many Splendored Thing" in 1960 in a WWII Quonset Hut in Norman Wells, NWT, a Canadian oil-depot settlement on the McKenzie River lying only 50 miles south of the Arctic Circle. The film was in 16mm color projected onto a white bed sheet. My fellow movies-viewers were mostly local Eskimo types who gorged themselves on vanilla ice cream made from canned milk. One scoop was enough for me! More memorable, though, was the collective odor from their hand-made Caribou-hide moccasins. No commercial tannic acid to cure and soften the leather for these folks. No sir. They continued the "old way" of using human urine for that purpose. Which is fine if the temperature is cold, but the inside of the Quonset hot was stifling hot. PEW YEW!
As to the movie, my indigenous-native pals turned out to be William Holden fans and clapped whenever he appeared on screen.