For Happy 1957 Holidays ...

Clouds Form Over Raintree County

It was MGM president Joe Vogel's first meeting with gathered press. He had been installed a few months before to replace deposed Dore Schary, who was himself a sub for sacked Louis Mayer. This, then, was windmill spun at Loew's, parent corp of MGM, a lion roaring fainter what with viewer loss to TV and better things to do than see movies. Hopeful toward plugging the dyke was Raintree County, tabbed for Fall 1957 release on roadshow basis, a six million dollar job, according to Vogel's June estimate (couple weeks follow-up in Variety adjusted the figure to $5.4 million). Expense was due in part to 65mm lensing, said Metro's chief, the enlarged show to premiere late September in Louisville, Kentucky, near which location photography took place. There was question as to whether prints would be struck in the larger format, conversion costs in excess of $10,000 for theatres inclined to project 65mm. Still, said Leo, the 35mm scope prints, reduced from the oversized negative, would register sharper than Cinemascope, so everybody wins. Being this was a most colossal project since Gone With The Wind, and with similar backdrop ("In the Tradition Of Great Civil War Romances"), MGM sales put exhibition on notice that "the basic deal ... will be a 90-10 arrangement," which meant Lion's share, by thick margin, would go to the Lion. Question, then, for run-up to September: Would autumn-arriving Raintree County live up to Vogel's summer forecast?

A 1957 show world was drunk on roadshows. They fairly spat money from still-running hits The Ten Commandments and Around The World In 80 Days. Then too were the Cineramas, one after other that came to towns and stayed for year minimum, or to whenever a next of the ultra-travelogues was ready. Roadshows were based on two-a-day principle, reserved seats, "theatre parties" with patronage there by busloads. It took an event movie to stir such interest, but what was Raintree County, if not an event? For dollars spent and starry cast (top-lined Montgomery Clift and Elizabeth Taylor), it seemed a cinch for record attendance. Metro had bagged six key dates beyond the Louisville bow, "New York, Chicago, L.A., Boston, Philadelphia, and Frisco," according to Variety in June '57 reportage. Whether one of more would use 65mm depended on a TODD-AO house being cleared after Around The World In 80 Days, but that one didn't look to go away for long times yet. Loew's stayed giddy on 65mm, however, pledging it for their Ben-Hur remake, set for '58 filming overseas.

Kansas City Has Raintree County In Its '57 Christmas Sock

Initial theatres would get three trailers, hope being that other first-run houses in respective cities would run the peeks, this a courtesy observed in spots where showmen from time-to-time helped boost one another's product. MGM was using 80 Days for a blueprint, and why not for success Michael Todd's extravaganza enjoyed? Theatre parties and "block-tix" was action Leo wanted in on, but Raintree County was heavier dose than fun-for-all Around The World, latter delivering like further dose of Cinerama, only with stars around each corner. A concern was Raintree County length, over three hours, past even Quo Vadis that had socked over so well for Metro in 1951. To roadshow front came more warriors, 20th Fox with South Pacific, Columbia and The Bridge On The River Kwai, both these figured sure-fire for long runs and advanced admissions. Others had been more conservative. Warner Bros. sent out Giant the previous year on grind basis, would do a same with Sayonara in 1957. Both these were "specials," got in on money for pre-release bookings, but otherwise played as normal attractions.

Louisville, Kentucky Makes A Holiday Of Raintree's World Premiere

Montgomery Clift Joins Edward Dmytryk At The Los Angeles Opening

Cincinnati Promised a Roadshow ... Settled For Grind

"Special" was the operative word, for in the end, it was quality of your offering that dealt the outcome. "Less than true-epic product," said some, "may well kill the goose that laid the golden egg." Danger lay in unworthy films wanting to be a next Ten Commandments or Around The World In 80 Days for holidays 1957 and into 1958. "What a lot of people are apparently forgetting is that these two pictures had something to sell. They deserved the label of a 'show'," said one ad exec. "But the minute we throw everything into the pot, and attach the label indiscriminately, the magic will fade, and the public will just lose its faith again." Chicago showmen were unhappy with distribs and their roadshow intent for too many films, as these left outlier and neighborhood venues at tail end of distribution, too long after public interest in a new title had cooled. They'd wait to negotiate on Raintree County until boxoffice vote came in from opener engagements. Promise being great, however, caused showmen to join lines for roadshow placement. No one wanted to be left out should Raintree County break big. Cincinnati's RKO Grand Theatre manager Joe Alexander told local columnist Dale Stevens that the film would run on roadshow basis, starting Christmas. This was before November 12 and sudden reverse of policy by Loew's, a result of cold splash Raintree County got when critics and a less-than-expected public got their first look at it.

"So-so" was biz in Chicago, said Variety, and L.A. was "dull." Boston reported "okay" attendance, while not unexpected crowds greeted Raintree County in Louisville. The scramble for alibis was on, Metro's Raintree failing to bloom, they said, because venues were still tied up with Around The World In 80 Days and couldn't make room for a next blockbuster. Variety counseled that "the roadshow is not necessarily the avenue to wealth it's cracked up to be." And yet distribs kept laying across tracks for another Ten Commandments or 80 Days. Unspoke truth was most features not being good enough to pack gear of extended runs and hard tickets. Certainly not forthcoming A Farewell To Arms from Fox, Desire Under The Elms out of Paramount, or Metro again with The Brothers Karamazov, each of these floated as possible roadshows. One unnamed insider put it blunt: "Our good pictures can make good money, but not if we try to sell them as three-ring circuses, or for more than they're really worth." Worse embarrassment came of trumpeting your biggest of big, only to shuffle it off to grinds after public and critics turned thumbs down. Not that Raintree County was especially disliked, but neither was it Gone With The Wind for a next generation. Cooler heads should have seen that and moved accordingly, but this was a money business, and where there's that, especially at MGM level of investment, there's also panic. The November 12 announcement came not a moment too soon. Raintree County would be available for the holiday season as a regular booking with continuous shows. Seventeen minutes would be cut to get it below onus of three hour length that grind houses deplored. Revenue, after all, turned on how many seats they could flip throughout a day. And it wasn't like anyone would be so concerned with Raintree County as uncut specimen roadshow audiences had seen.

A Rarity Book Thicker and More Detailed Than What Sold For Souvenirs in Roadshow Lobbies

MGM sales manager Charles M. Reagan said his company was acting in accord with showman request, which would be marvelous if they had done that all along, but showmen knew what crock such a statement amounted to. Variety, on the other hand, put things more honestly: "It's no secret ... that the pic did not win the critical acclaim that had been anticipated and that b.o. results to date have not met expectations. In addition, Metro faced some difficulty in obtaining theatres for hard-ticket runs because of the critical reception." To hand Raintree County over to grinds was admission of defeat at a time Leo could not afford to be humbled. There was enough of that going on at boxoffices for majority of MGM product, success for the season counted in single digits (sole hits for '57, as in cracking a million in profit: Jailhouse Rock and Don't Go Near The Water). To re-label a roadshow "can be costly in terms of ... trade and public prestige," observed Variety, but wait, three locales wanted Raintree County for Christmas, and on hard-ticket basis. These were St. Louis, Milwaukee, and Minneapolis, each with their own reason to believe the show could sell at premium rate. Los Angeles, on the other hand, put Raintree County in saturation after letdown of the Fox-Wilshire roadshow. Eight locations played shortened prints during January 1958, and by trade accounts, did surprisingly well. Maybe this was how customers preferred Raintree County after all.

Lunch Break On The "Atlanta Street" Built For Raintree County

Back in Cincinnati on 2-27-62 

Final tally saw Raintree County doing biggest biz of all MGM releases that year, $9.5 million in worldwide rentals, which would have been a historic smash if only they hadn't spent final tally $5.7 million on the negative. Ink ran red, but not by (comparative) much, $368K lost. Raintree County then, should not be remembered as a flop, because people did go to it, especially in general release, and presumably had a good time. Certainly they revere it in hindsight. I don't know many titles for which there is more anxiety for a Blu-ray release. Trouble is an ongoing perception of Raintree County as a stiff. Fact is, digital rescue would yield a stunner, as there's no reason to believe elements are gone or damaged. As with much of oldies, it is money that keeps proper preservation at bay. Warners probably realizes that this would at most be a Blu-Ray release from their Archive series, and where is recovery of six figures in that? Solace is barely had in TCM runs of a whiskered transfer, or a worse laser disc where you can find it. Meanwhile, fans formed by the 1957-58 run are going with their own wind. Who among present day decision-makers would move Raintree County to top of digital priority lists?