I was told by someone who worked here occasionally as a projectionist that the projection booth was actually a room that jutted out from the rear of the building as though it were an attachment. I thought this might be a way of “containing” any fire that might have started with highly flammable nitrate film, because the booth was apart from the rest of the theatre. The Capitol Theatre in Worcester (later called the Paris) was like this. In fact a photo I took of the protruding booth at the Capitol can be seen on that page in a posting of mine.
I visited this theatre on April 21, 1992 for two films in separate auditoriums. One was Europa, elsewhere named Zentropa. The other was the Academy Award winning Italian movie Mediterraneo.
When the Cinerama Theatre was twinned, two pleasant and not too tiny auditoriums resulted, since the original theatre was fairly wide, and the screens were substantially sized too. One oddity, though, was that they did not change the positioning on the seats. The result was that in the left auditorium the arc of the rows of seats curved forward toward the left, while in the right auditorium they curved forward to the right, as though the place were still one big auditorium with a wall down the center from front to rear.
It was not the best location for an art house, despite the excellent programs when it was one. Sex did what “art” couldn’t. Not that they couldn’t overlap. Agnes Varda’s Le Bonheur had a six-month or more run in the Studio Cinema upstairs.
I was here only once, on August 21, 1992, to see Brian De Palma’s Raising Cain. Here is an “obituary” by Clark Humphrey that appeared in a column in the paper The Stranger in 2002:
“The United Artists Cinemas 70/150 at Sixth and Blanchard was finally demolished on November 15, four years after the United Artists (UA) chain abandoned its only Seattle branch. The twin-cinema (Seattle’s first) was built in 1962 to exploit two of the postwar film business' big-screen fads, 70 mm and Dimension 150. The 70/150 had its most famous moment as the local first-run home for the original Star Wars in 1977 (at the height of the film’s popularity, the movie ran there 24 hours a day). In the mid-‘80s, the UA chain leased the house to local operators, who briefly renamed it the Seattle Cinedome (no relation to the national Iwerks CineDome chain). UA retook operation of the 70/150 in 1992, operating it for six years as a discount house with midnight cult-film screenings. For its final demise, workers put up one final title on its long-empty marquee: DEMOLITION MAN.”
Liam, no, the auditorium portion was demolished for a parking lot. Only the front part with shops was retained. If you look carefully at the top center of the façade, you can make out a trace of the lettering that said “Rialto Theatre.” It’s very faint. If you click here and expand the image, you can make it out at the top center of the building.
In April of 1993, when they re-opened after a long closure, refurbished and with additional screens, they were a discount house. The first day…they were charging only 50 cents per film. I saw Forever Young and * Body of Evidence* for 50 cents each. Needless to say, there were long lines.
I saw that at the Fine Arts in Boston. Regarding Baby Doll, when I was a sophomore at LaSalle in 1956, we had to take a “pledge” not to go see the movie (playing at the Majestic.) It was years later before I saw it. Of course there were tons of foreign films condemned by the CLOD, some truly great ones like L'Avventura, Jules and Jim.
I kind of liked it for its intimacy, actually, although I wish it had had a real lobby! I saw a large number of excellent films there, some of which I mentioned in an earlier posting. Hardbop’s posting is right. The place is turning into a ghost mall.
Yes, I went too and I remember that “promise.” Incidentally, that is one of my least favorite Mastroianni films. I never liked it, despite the fact that I am really into Italian movies and Elio Petri is a fine director.
Yes, Midnight Cowboy was rated X too and won the Academy Award for best film. The letter X got hijacked by porno-makers to mean something other than what it was intended to be by the MPAA.
Baby Doll; Kiss Me, Stupid & The Moon is Blue and so many others that met problems in those decades now are shown on Turner Classic Movies and no one blinks an eye.
Yes, it was more fun to read. Later ads for Marty, which was a big hit at the Avon, showed a cartoon of someone “stretching the walls” to accomodate all the people who wanted to get in.
The first movie I saw here was Federico Fellini’s And the Ship Sails On (…and on, and on, and on!) on July 24, 1984. When this place re-opened, all fresh and spiffy, there were real high hopes that it would succeed. What a pity, especially since there is no other art house in the New Bedford/Fall River area.
In July of 1984, when this was the Galleria, I saw Electric Dreams. The last films I saw here were Zelary, a very long Czech film, and the director’s cut of Donnie Darko on November 6, 2004, shortly before the place closed.
I found out that I saw these two movies there on August 23, 1983. One was La terrazza by Ettore Scola. It was dubbed in French, as was their preference here. The other was Carlos Saura’s Blood Wedding, which I believe is wordless and a ballet. Don’t any Montrealers remember or care about this respected place? Why am I, someone from Providence, Rhode Island, the only one to post?
That Flickers showing of The Shop on Main Street that I saw was on May 5, 1983. The film society was run, if I am not wrong, by George Marshall, who has been heading the R.I. International Film Festival for nearly a decade. Flickers also used other venues, including the Jane Pickens Theatre and a second floor hall off Washington Square that I forget the name of.
I was told by someone who worked here occasionally as a projectionist that the projection booth was actually a room that jutted out from the rear of the building as though it were an attachment. I thought this might be a way of “containing” any fire that might have started with highly flammable nitrate film, because the booth was apart from the rest of the theatre. The Capitol Theatre in Worcester (later called the Paris) was like this. In fact a photo I took of the protruding booth at the Capitol can be seen on that page in a posting of mine.
I visited this theatre on April 21, 1992 for two films in separate auditoriums. One was Europa, elsewhere named Zentropa. The other was the Academy Award winning Italian movie Mediterraneo.
When the Cinerama Theatre was twinned, two pleasant and not too tiny auditoriums resulted, since the original theatre was fairly wide, and the screens were substantially sized too. One oddity, though, was that they did not change the positioning on the seats. The result was that in the left auditorium the arc of the rows of seats curved forward toward the left, while in the right auditorium they curved forward to the right, as though the place were still one big auditorium with a wall down the center from front to rear.
It was not the best location for an art house, despite the excellent programs when it was one. Sex did what “art” couldn’t. Not that they couldn’t overlap. Agnes Varda’s Le Bonheur had a six-month or more run in the Studio Cinema upstairs.
The Strand was still open in 1962. An October program was I Thank a Fool with Fear No More.
I was here only once, on August 21, 1992, to see Brian De Palma’s Raising Cain. Here is an “obituary” by Clark Humphrey that appeared in a column in the paper The Stranger in 2002:
“The United Artists Cinemas 70/150 at Sixth and Blanchard was finally demolished on November 15, four years after the United Artists (UA) chain abandoned its only Seattle branch. The twin-cinema (Seattle’s first) was built in 1962 to exploit two of the postwar film business' big-screen fads, 70 mm and Dimension 150. The 70/150 had its most famous moment as the local first-run home for the original Star Wars in 1977 (at the height of the film’s popularity, the movie ran there 24 hours a day). In the mid-‘80s, the UA chain leased the house to local operators, who briefly renamed it the Seattle Cinedome (no relation to the national Iwerks CineDome chain). UA retook operation of the 70/150 in 1992, operating it for six years as a discount house with midnight cult-film screenings. For its final demise, workers put up one final title on its long-empty marquee: DEMOLITION MAN.”
Nice recollection! Almost as good as being inside, which you’ve done and I haven’t.
Liam, no, the auditorium portion was demolished for a parking lot. Only the front part with shops was retained. If you look carefully at the top center of the façade, you can make out a trace of the lettering that said “Rialto Theatre.” It’s very faint. If you click
here and expand the image, you can make it out at the top center of the building.
I saw the Turkish film Yol here on November 27, 1982.
In April of 1993, when they re-opened after a long closure, refurbished and with additional screens, they were a discount house. The first day…they were charging only 50 cents per film. I saw Forever Young and * Body of Evidence* for 50 cents each. Needless to say, there were long lines.
Richard, that was the Avon’s “golden era”…in my opinion.
I don’t know if I went to this theatre more than once, but I noted seeing A Few Good Men here on January 18, 1993.
I saw that at the Fine Arts in Boston. Regarding Baby Doll, when I was a sophomore at LaSalle in 1956, we had to take a “pledge” not to go see the movie (playing at the Majestic.) It was years later before I saw it. Of course there were tons of foreign films condemned by the CLOD, some truly great ones like L'Avventura, Jules and Jim.
I kind of liked it for its intimacy, actually, although I wish it had had a real lobby! I saw a large number of excellent films there, some of which I mentioned in an earlier posting. Hardbop’s posting is right. The place is turning into a ghost mall.
Yes, I went too and I remember that “promise.” Incidentally, that is one of my least favorite Mastroianni films. I never liked it, despite the fact that I am really into Italian movies and Elio Petri is a fine director.
Yes, Midnight Cowboy was rated X too and won the Academy Award for best film. The letter X got hijacked by porno-makers to mean something other than what it was intended to be by the MPAA.
Baby Doll; Kiss Me, Stupid & The Moon is Blue and so many others that met problems in those decades now are shown on Turner Classic Movies and no one blinks an eye.
Yes, it was more fun to read. Later ads for Marty, which was a big hit at the Avon, showed a cartoon of someone “stretching the walls” to accomodate all the people who wanted to get in.
The first movie I saw here was Federico Fellini’s And the Ship Sails On (…and on, and on, and on!) on July 24, 1984. When this place re-opened, all fresh and spiffy, there were real high hopes that it would succeed. What a pity, especially since there is no other art house in the New Bedford/Fall River area.
In July of 1984, when this was the Galleria, I saw Electric Dreams. The last films I saw here were Zelary, a very long Czech film, and the director’s cut of Donnie Darko on November 6, 2004, shortly before the place closed.
One of the last movies, if not the last,that I saw there, was The Natural with Robert Redford. That was on June 29, 1984.
I found out that I saw these two movies there on August 23, 1983. One was La terrazza by Ettore Scola. It was dubbed in French, as was their preference here. The other was Carlos Saura’s Blood Wedding, which I believe is wordless and a ballet. Don’t any Montrealers remember or care about this respected place? Why am I, someone from Providence, Rhode Island, the only one to post?
That Flickers showing of The Shop on Main Street that I saw was on May 5, 1983. The film society was run, if I am not wrong, by George Marshall, who has been heading the R.I. International Film Festival for nearly a decade. Flickers also used other venues, including the Jane Pickens Theatre and a second floor hall off Washington Square that I forget the name of.
I noted seeing the movie Betrayal, with Jeremy Irons and Ben Kingsley, at this theatre in April, 1983.
I told a lie. Also saw Tender Mercies here in April, 1983.
I believe the Turkish movie Yol was the last picture I saw here, on March 19, 1983, before the theatre closed.