What Trades Told: Paramounts on Parade, Frank Wants Back In, and Adults Only Please
Re Broadway's legendary Paramount
Theatre (interior above), how’s addressing sheer vast of the place, a closest millions came to
entering a king’s palace, let alone as welcome guests, not sweeping ash but
treated like royals manor born. I personally never stood in a so-called “movie
palace,” crumbled remnants of a few, yes, a more sad than satisfying
experience. Ever visit such ruins? They're like Pompeii after the eruption.
In fact, preservationists are doing a better job keeping Pompeii intact these days. Once there
was a collector’s show (1976) at a rundown Greensboro venue, promoter-in-part
Don Key who used to publish the fabled Big Reel where we enthusiasts could buy
16mm. The onetime Paramount anchor now saw reels and old posters change hands
in spacious common areas once pristine and filled with excited patronage. There
was smell of decay about it, but what did we care so long as there was film plus paper to barter back and forth? Broadway’s Paramount Theatre was ultimate
showcase for freshest product its corporate owner had to offer, the site a model to which others could aspire,
but never equal. People who never knew luxury in their lives could come here
and experience it. An admission bought far more than a feature plus live
entertainment, however spectacular these were.
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| I'm Told the Paramount Even at Peak of Frank's Popularity Put Plants in the Audience to Shriek and Swoon for Him |
Meet Danny and Meet Frank Again --- Trades didn’t tell it at the time but
run-down-at-heels Frank Sinatra fairly begged old stand the Paramount
Theatre to let him back in to live perform with Meet Danny Wilson, a Universal comparative cheapie that hoped to revive both Frank and musicals
not necessarily the strength of this studio. The Paramount was by now a free
agency for exhibition of films they’d choose rather than have them chosen by
previous owner Paramount Pictures, entity formerly in control of this Broadway house
plus 1,200 or so more across the country. That was then and this was now, choke
collars off theatres and if you wanted a favor, like Frank obviously did, you
took your hat in hand and called on Mr. Manager. Sinatra's relationship with the Paramount was good for multiple appearances at this acknowledged sweet spot of all presentation houses he graced over years
since starting. It all came inevitably to accumulated good will, this true all over but especially so in exhibition. Tricks
of the Trade were better called Trust of the Trade.
21 Comments:
"Did the Chicago Theater here go too far? What if would-be patronage took the 'Adults Only' tag serious?" Well, sure they went too far. As a would-be patron with an appetite for the Dwain Esper sort of "Adults Only" schlock, I would have been waiting for a square up reel after "Miracle of Morgan's Creek," however buried in "laffs" I may have been. And, no, Lou Breese and his Music, "In Person," would not have cut it.
It still stuns me that the censors let the name "Kockenlocker" get by.
Got a few restored palaces close to home, but only one, the Stanford in Palo Alto, remains a MOVIE palace. Not so grand as the Paramount, but with a big two-story lobby, a balcony, and a genuine rising-from-the-orchestra-pit organ regularly played. Downtown San Jose has the California, for decades the Fox, lavishly restored as an opera house but with occasional film showings. Some years back they had "Safety Last", and it killed. Screams ran 50-50 with the laughs during Harold's climb on a massive screen.
Will trot out my tired comparison once again: Old movie theaters were temples, where the faithful gathered in the great hall to collectively receive the blessings of Hollywood. It was an event, and even the humble neighborhood house often carried that sense of a congregation. Modern multiplexes are airports, sometimes with a big upscale lobby but mainly a place where passengers line up at departure gates with a multitude of destinations and schedules, a churning mass of strangers who will not experience even that momentary community.
Forcing the studios to dump their theaters did nothing but harm. Good folks generally do more harm than the folks they see as bad. Good people got rid of the feral cats in Toronto. Now we have out of control rats. Seeing a motion picture work its magic in a 5,000 seat theater is beyond description for joy and wonder. Perhaps the best I ever had was seeing Richard Lester's THE THREE MUSKETEERS in a 5,000 seat house. Minutes into the picture 5,000 people said, "FAR F...ING OUT!" I only left out the letters I left out 'cause this is your site not mine. The experience was breathtaking. TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE with 5,000 with us was INCREDIBLE. The same with THE CONQUEROR WORM (WITCHFINDER GENERAL) with 5,000 people running for the exits overwhelmed by the finale. Kids today truly have no idea what the experience once was. In 50 years will theaters be being built to seat 10?
Paramount I think was powerful enough to negotiate successfully with censors, plus it was recognized by after the war that audiences wanted tastier meat, especially in the area of comedy where dicey was less disquieting.
Our Liberty knew the "congregation" sensation on Saturdays at least, when the place was near-full throughout the day no matter what they were showing.
LA still has several old movie palaces still showing films-The Chinese, the Egyptian, the El Capitan (all Disney films), the re-opening next year of the Cinerama Dome and the smaller but beautiful Vista (Tarantino's gift) the restored Village and Bruin in Westwood, and the smaller Beverly, Eagle, Aero and the Los Feliz. The downtown movie palaces, the Million Dollar, the Orpheum, the Palace and the United occasionally show films in conjunction with the LA Conservancy called Last Remaining Seats. All treasures.
Haven't visited L.A. since 1999. Looks like I'm missing out on a lot.
The studios may be collapsing or consolidating but the movie theatres are thriving in LA. I've read that younger moviegoers are appreciating the shared experience and the big screen in real theatres. Quentin Tarantino's two theatres, the Beverly and the Vista show his personal collection and are all on film with revivals cat the Beverly and revivals and new films at the Vista. The American Cinematheque and Netflix operate the Egyptian, Aero, Los Feliz and Village with revivals and new and indie films. I watched the 1959 BEN-HUR as well as ZABRISKIE POINT both in widescreen at the Egyptian and it was a thrill. The Academy Museum also just had a VistaVision festival where they screened DeMille's 1956 TEN COMMANDMENTS to a big crowd to appreciate it in their beautiful David Geffen Theatre. The VistaVision fest also included THE SEARCHERS, WHITE CHRISTMAS, FUNNY FACE, NORTH BY NORTHWEST, THE JOKER IS WILD and a few others in rare screenings. So many showing NORTH BY NORTHWEST lately on the big screens. I love your books, John. Is another one coming?
Someone told me just yesterday that the Vista is going to be running a newly restored THE DEVILS, "by Ken Russell." My very Lutheran college ran that during 1973-74 per their yearly package deal with Warner Bros. Film Gallery. Few enough of us attended to prevent it becoming a cause celebre in terms of campus controversy.
Yes, THE DEVILS on 35mm film is playing the Vista Oct. 15, 16 and 17 and I notice on their website that each 7:30 pm show is already sold out. THE BIRDS is also playing soon. Tarantino books some interesting films. Another nice thing about the restored 1920's theater is the Egyptian motif in the auditorium and they took out every other row so there's plenty of leg room and no pulling in your legs to let someone in.
I really admire the idea of taking out every other row for greater audience comfort. Tarantino is not only an accomplished filmmaker, but a fine writer/historian, and now a visionary showman as well. Orchids to him!
Dan Mercer's weekly serve of comments from 'round the Net (Part One):
“The Mummy”
Imhotep is the most tragic of the monsters, one who sacrificed himself for the sake of love, enduring a living death for thousands of years, only that he might restore his beloved to life and have her embrace ever after. But it was an unnatural thing that he had done, and the very act of giving expression to his love destroyed it.
Louise Brooks Pictured in a Three-Piece Suit
Refined, elegant, and composed in her three-piece suit, yet another of her looks and just one of the many faces she showed the world. I suspect that the ease with which she varied her image came from not taking it all that seriously, except for the fun she had doing it.
Buster Keaton in “The Cameraman”
There was a danger in allowing Keaton to fall in love, even with someone as adorable as Marceline Day. In his previous pictures, he was removed from this world but found a nexus through his physical ability and a certain tinker's insight, as to how things worked. Even what passed for his romantic relationships were usually simulations which suggested the outward form without the inward commitment. There was thus no room for sentiment or what would have been worse, pathos. In this one, however, he was allowed to look upon beauty. His eyes closed, as though upon a dream, and when they opened again, the dream had become the life he was living. It was a life no longer removed from the world, but a part of it, with all the risks that attend the open heart.
John Gilbert and Virginia Bruce
Gilbert and Virginia Bruce met on the set of "Downstairs," the movie he supplied the story for. He was very much himself, then: confident, creatively engaged, and happy with his work. This Gilbert was most alluring, especially to a young actress just making her way in pictures. He was at the top of his game and a man to be reckoned with. When he turned his attention towards her, it seemed that she had become the very center of the world. After their marriage, though, the film was released and failed. As audacious as his performance was, the public which had stayed away from his talkies would not be lured back to see him as a cad. The enthusiasm that had sustained him disappeared, he found solace once more in drink, and slowly and then quickly, the man she married disappeared.
Hollywood Men and Their Toupees
There are no pictures of mannequin or wig stands with one of my toupees on it. I don't need one or have any. The world would be indifferent to that fact, however. The image of a star exists independently of the person himself and is found in the very world of make believe for which the toupee is a prop. So, an aficionado myself, I enjoyed scrolling through the pages, but I doubt whether these revelations will be very much on my mind, the next time I'm watching one of the stars here on screen.
Martha Mansfield
Martha Mansfield was a dark beauty popular on the Ziegfeld stage before coming to the movies. with delicate, balanced features, and voluminous chestnut hair. Major stardom beckoned, but while working on the set of "The Warrens of Virginia," her costume ignited from a tossed match. Badly burned, she died days later, in 1923 at the age of 24. An artist’s model, as well, before her Hollywood career, her poise and grace are revealed in this picture. The ball she is holding at is probably a "gazing ball" or “witch ball," which was a hollowed glass ball with a silvered surface. Used in "scrying," a divinatory art—the term means to "catch a glimpse of"--the practitioner would stare intently into the reflective surface of the ball in the hope of receiving a spiritual message or insights. Mansfield's gaze has that intensity, as though transfixed by what she saw in the ball. Perhaps it is no more than her skill as a model or actress on display, or maybe something else.
Part Two from Dan Mercer:
Irene Dunne
An actress doesn’t have to be beautiful or alluring to be popular. Irene Dunne was attractive enough and sang well, but it was her delightful personality that made her a star. She seemed to have a warm heart and good sense of humor, and though she displayed a deft touch with comedy and drama alike, it was in handling life’s situation that she seemed most skilled. She came to Hollywood relatively late in her career—she was already 31 years old when she made her first film—but had a youthful vivacity that allowed her to continue playing romantic leads well into her forties. Even when she made the necessary concessions to the passage of time, it was in movies like “Life with Father” and “I Remember Mama,” in which that depth of heart became ever stronger and more apparent.
“The Seashell and the Clergyman” (La Coquille et la Clergyman) – 1928
Some say that this film preceded Luis Brunel’s “Un Chien Andalou” and that Brunel adopted Dulac’s bizarre and often indecipherable imagery. They seem the product of the same hand. As with all surrealistic works, there may be no apparent logic to the way it proceeds, no more than there is in a dream. The sampling of images provided is intriguing. No doubt watching the entire film would be an immersive experience.
Barbara Payton facing Bad Check Charges
There's the pity when one begins living on the margins, slipping away from an ordinarily orderly life and making mistakes, when the mistakes cross a threshold and give the appearance of being crimes. For most people, failing to manage a checkbook is frustrating but not criminal. For some, it may reflect an increasing indifference to whether there really is any money in the account. The liquor is desperately needed. Why not take a chance?
“The Best Years of Their Lives”
I wonder if the "Greatest Generation" has become a cliche, something said but not really understood any more. I remember my father and the truth of that phrase found in him. But for those who haven't such an example, there are three films that I would recommend for providing a glimpse of who they were, these people who faced great struggles and left us a country with the possibility of greatness. These are "The Story of G.I. Joe," "The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit," and this one, "The Best Years of Our Lives." Perhaps it is this one which most clearly shows what they sought and the confusion they experienced when they tried to give expression to those inchoate hopes that had sustained them for so long. In my own life, I know that whatever I've accomplished was because I stood on their shoulders. May they not be forgotten and, perhaps, in such films as these, they will not be.
Part Three from Dan Mercer:
Louise Brooks
An apt phrase, "Sa liberte inconvenante inquiete les recits qu'elle peuple." Brooks had an innate understanding of who she was, of which an aspect was that she never wanted to be caught in one place. She had no fixed image and was not a butterfly to be pinned to a board. If someone formed an idea of her, he would find her dancing away and becoming someone different, though always her own. That deep, questing gaze often accompanied an insouciant smirk. She sought something, somewhere else, not that it wasn’t amusing to confound the expectations of others.
“Holiday”
There is much that I like about this picture. Lew Ayres is especially good, as are Edward Everett Horton and Jean Dixon as the Potters. Cary Grant is appealing, perhaps aggressively so for our sympathy, and Katherine Hepburn is not entirely unbearable. But there is such smugness in the story telling. Its deck of cards seems to have been gone through so thoroughly that no straight deal will ever be allowed. The rightness of the Hepburn and Grant characters is to be accepted as a matter of course. Their stiff necked, stuffed shirt adversaries are not authentic human beings, who've made rational choices of their own to other ends, but caricatures. Hence, they offer no alternative to our leads, but only a backdrop against which we might better appreciate their charm and brightness. And if that's the stuff of entertainment for someone, then fine. But if we're to take the show on its own terms, of finding a way to a more authentic way of living, it's disappointing.
Louise Brooks turns down “Public Enemy”
A good role in a promising feature by a major studio, with a top-notch director who believed in her enough to want her without a screen test? You would have thought that she'd accept it immediately, if she wanted to continue her career. But she did not want to continue it, at least, not then. She'd had enough of the studios and found spending time with her boyfriend more worthwhile. It was a strange decision to make, even considering that her boyfriend was George Preston Marshall, a wealthy and charismatic businessman. Still, the wonderful, iconic performances she gave also originated from that same strange perspective. The uncommon is rarely found within commonplace.
Re "The Cameraman": For me, the surprise was how Keaton's big date took me back to my own awkward youth. From waiting for a promised phone call to very relatable embarrassments to a moment of hope -- even if she's off on a proper date with a rival -- under the usual Keaton gags and ingenuity was a guy I could identify with.
In his features Keaton wasn't big on love at first sight; at opening the girl was often anything from a committed girlfriend to a speaking-terms acquaintance. "Cameraman" was one of the exceptions, and perhaps he and his team felt it was necessary to make it feel less Keatonesque and more gently plausiblel than usual. Even if the ending is standard "Save the Girl and She Loves You", the struggling young man and the office girl are plausibly in the same league, tentatively beginning the social rituals.
When Dan Mercer's mother remembered Chicago movie palaces ...
The ads and stills do convince, especially as you've given them to us, with the peculiar enhancements of this new age coming into being. The effect of faux marble, foyers with carpets from Persia, ceilings richly ornamented, paneled walls, and the vast stages projecting out into multi-level auditoriums all provide a place of play for the imagination. Even a walk down the aisle would be an experience fraught with anticipation.
There are also memories, though. My mother grew up in Gary, Indiana, the great steel town of the country, and as a young woman she would take the Electric Train to Chicago with her sisters and friends for an outing at one of the movie palaces there. She told me of the shows she would see, with the short subject and cartoon, a newsreel, the feature film, and a live stage show. The theater itself was as rich as the entertainment it offered, with opulent lounges and lavatories, the layers of seating from the parquet to boxes to balconies, the great screen and the curtain that would descend before it when the stage show began.
The house she and her sisters and brothers lived in was tiny. There were two bedrooms and an enclosed porch, with one small bathroom for all of them. In the front yard was a well to augment the water provided by the city. When times were hard, as often they were during the Great Depression, the soles of her shoes were patched with cardboard. But in one of those great theaters, she enjoyed almost unimaginable luxury, as much for the liberation of her mind and soul from the grinding insistence of poverty as for the screen and stage shows.
I'm sure that the movies then were much more a part of their times than they are now. My mother was very pretty and in old snapshots, she often assumes poses likely taken from fan magazines or the featured showing at a matinee. No doubt her hopes also found a bijou presentation, something Margaret Sullavan might have whispered to Robert Taylor, their faces large in closeup on the big screen.
I didn't ask her enough questions about herself, something I regret now, save that I didn't know enough to understand that there were questions to be asked. Now I wonder who she was before she became my mother, what she looked for and what she found. Possibly, she knew fulfillment, when she saw her own children or found the blue of her eyes in those of a grandson. But I suspect that there was a certain wistfulness, even then, for Technicolor dreams.
Tarantino also managed to book the rarely screened Otto Preminger PORGY AND BESS for a few days at the Vista in LA earlier this year and it was great to see it in widescreen.
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AI, or "Super Intelligence," has a way of "enhancing" images or mangling names. I've had to send them back to the drawing board on more onerous occasions, but over time I'm learning to do better as an AI conductor. It's a large learning curve, but worth it for the color quality generally had, plus overall improvement in the visuals, especially those from old news print or even microfilm grabs.
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