These were comfortable subterranean theaters, but anyone could tell they were doomed. They were buried, without sufficient signage, in the bowels of the building. I never saw a movie in there that wasn’t close to being a private screening.
First visited here for “Somebody Up There Likes Me.” When I saw “Love Story” for the first time here, I think I went in with a bit of an “OK, show me” attitude. Gotta admit: It got to me.
It was a dump, but I sure enjoyed reading and saving the schedules of the film classics and studying the combinations in which they were booked. I remember seeing “Salo” here. It seemed to appear regularly.
When that church first took over the Mark Hellinger, I thought: “This won’t last long. It’s only because the ranks of incoming Broadway musicals are a little lean right now. It’ll change back before the lease even expires.” Can that church thrive at such a pricey location?
When I learned that theaters (everywhere) routinely undersell performances without giving their turned-away patrons the option to occupy the less desirably seats upfront, I’m annoyed. Once you’ve gone to all the time and trouble to get to the theater, you don’t want the theater’s management to (secretly) make the decision for you that you won’t want what’s left. At least offer the option, folks.
My other comment concerns the installation of turnstyles at the Guild and a few other houses I frequented in Manhattan when I was going to New York to preview/review movies. The theaters with turnstyles did not issue tickets. But for someone like me who was on expenses, the tickets were my only receipts. I finally gave up trying to get cashiers and house managers to issue me some sort of documentation.
I know it’s a small thing, but those missing ticket halves sure messed up the bookkeeping.
Another real loss. Can someone explain why theaters in the vicinity of Fifth Avenue (Festival, Plaza, Fine Arts, the surviving Paris and several others) are regarded as being in a sort of no-man’s land? It seems to me that in their prime they were perfectly positioned and equally accessible from the East Side and the West Side? Is the problem that there are too few apartment buildings in this Central Park South zone?
Thank you, Jack and Wolfgirl. Alas, I’m a bit more confused than ever – not fault of yours. I don’t think that as a child who was visiting his older sister on that weekend in 1952 and walking to the nearest theaters, I was aware there were others in Downtown Youngstown.
The one time I returned with that sister, driving her there so we could both have a nostalgic look-around, the only thing familiar was the theater that had become the symphony hall — the Warner/Powers Auditorium. (I just hadn’t remembered the name.) I’m almost positive that was where I saw “Where’s Charley?” and that I misidentified as the Paramount.
On the basis of your notes, I think “Don’t Bother to Knock” was at the Paramount and the westerns were at the State, across from the Paramount. I have no explanation for not remembering the Palace.
Personal note to Jack: I’m quite surprised you recognized my name and a bit of my writing. I cherished my first interview with Ed and Wendy King and was thrilled, shortly afterward, to attend a full broadcast of “Party Line.” Wendy phoned me at home the night Ed died. I went to the office and spent the rest of the night writing an obit that began, “The party’s over for the man with the pretzels.” I remember it was almost dawn when I finished, so I stayed to read proof on it and make final corrections. Wendy, blessedly, is still with us – a very dear lady and a treasure trove of memories of KDKA-Radio’s greatest era.
Is there a way for us to connect “off line,” Jack? You can email me at
My apologies to everyone else for digressing.
Had an experience at one of the upstairs auditoriums that I’d also had at the Elgin/Joyce.
While concentrating on the movie (“Fade to Black”), I was shaken when something brushed past me and leaped onto a seat. I was relieved when it turned out to be the (a) house cat. But we all know what that implied.
On the way out, I spoke for a couple of minutes with the young ticket taker about the cat. He confirmed what it was there for and said, in effect, the theater had a lot of rodents and pointed to places where they frequently made appearances.
Love Manhattan’s moviehouses for the peculiar theaters that were and for some that still are. But this site, with its weird, narrow escalator shafts, feels threadbare and barren.
I had heard about Jules Podell’s famous Latin Quarter (often mentioned on network TV) for at least 20 years before finally getting to New York. Alas, by then it had become Cine Lino. Still, when I first saw a (poor) movie there, I was much distracted by the sense of being in the space that the nightclub once had occupied.
As a Broadway theater during the past few decades, the Broadway had one of the best marquees in Manhattan. No more. Does the city prevent theaters from maintaining old-style marquees or is the theater owners who keep shrinking them or replacing them with nondescipt new marquees?
I know there’s some resentment of the Disneyfication of Times Square, but in truth, we owe thanks for the restorative rescue of this theater.
Having trouble keeping the checkmark box checked for this theater. I’m hoping that by adding once more to the blog, that’ll do the trick.
These were comfortable subterranean theaters, but anyone could tell they were doomed. They were buried, without sufficient signage, in the bowels of the building. I never saw a movie in there that wasn’t close to being a private screening.
First visited here for “Somebody Up There Likes Me.” When I saw “Love Story” for the first time here, I think I went in with a bit of an “OK, show me” attitude. Gotta admit: It got to me.
Saw “Little Big Man” and the long-awaited return of “The Manchurian Candidate” here.
Nice theater, as I recall, but the bookings could be eclectic.
Is this theater doing any business?
It’s a little surprising that a threeplex, however good the location, can survive against neighborhood competition.
It was a dump, but I sure enjoyed reading and saving the schedules of the film classics and studying the combinations in which they were booked. I remember seeing “Salo” here. It seemed to appear regularly.
When that church first took over the Mark Hellinger, I thought: “This won’t last long. It’s only because the ranks of incoming Broadway musicals are a little lean right now. It’ll change back before the lease even expires.” Can that church thrive at such a pricey location?
Very interesting comments by TomR on 11-22-04.
When I learned that theaters (everywhere) routinely undersell performances without giving their turned-away patrons the option to occupy the less desirably seats upfront, I’m annoyed. Once you’ve gone to all the time and trouble to get to the theater, you don’t want the theater’s management to (secretly) make the decision for you that you won’t want what’s left. At least offer the option, folks.
My other comment concerns the installation of turnstyles at the Guild and a few other houses I frequented in Manhattan when I was going to New York to preview/review movies. The theaters with turnstyles did not issue tickets. But for someone like me who was on expenses, the tickets were my only receipts. I finally gave up trying to get cashiers and house managers to issue me some sort of documentation.
I know it’s a small thing, but those missing ticket halves sure messed up the bookkeeping.
Another real loss. Can someone explain why theaters in the vicinity of Fifth Avenue (Festival, Plaza, Fine Arts, the surviving Paris and several others) are regarded as being in a sort of no-man’s land? It seems to me that in their prime they were perfectly positioned and equally accessible from the East Side and the West Side? Is the problem that there are too few apartment buildings in this Central Park South zone?
Thank you, Jack and Wolfgirl. Alas, I’m a bit more confused than ever – not fault of yours. I don’t think that as a child who was visiting his older sister on that weekend in 1952 and walking to the nearest theaters, I was aware there were others in Downtown Youngstown.
The one time I returned with that sister, driving her there so we could both have a nostalgic look-around, the only thing familiar was the theater that had become the symphony hall — the Warner/Powers Auditorium. (I just hadn’t remembered the name.) I’m almost positive that was where I saw “Where’s Charley?” and that I misidentified as the Paramount.
On the basis of your notes, I think “Don’t Bother to Knock” was at the Paramount and the westerns were at the State, across from the Paramount. I have no explanation for not remembering the Palace.
Personal note to Jack: I’m quite surprised you recognized my name and a bit of my writing. I cherished my first interview with Ed and Wendy King and was thrilled, shortly afterward, to attend a full broadcast of “Party Line.” Wendy phoned me at home the night Ed died. I went to the office and spent the rest of the night writing an obit that began, “The party’s over for the man with the pretzels.” I remember it was almost dawn when I finished, so I stayed to read proof on it and make final corrections. Wendy, blessedly, is still with us – a very dear lady and a treasure trove of memories of KDKA-Radio’s greatest era.
Is there a way for us to connect “off line,” Jack? You can email me at
My apologies to everyone else for digressing.
The last I caught here was Sam Shepard’s “Far North,” with Jessica Lange, in 1988.
Oh, and this theater tended to play Henry Jaglom’s films.
Not a fancy theater in its twinned era, but I remember the popcorn being fresher and better than at many other sites.
Had an experience at one of the upstairs auditoriums that I’d also had at the Elgin/Joyce.
While concentrating on the movie (“Fade to Black”), I was shaken when something brushed past me and leaped onto a seat. I was relieved when it turned out to be the (a) house cat. But we all know what that implied.
On the way out, I spoke for a couple of minutes with the young ticket taker about the cat. He confirmed what it was there for and said, in effect, the theater had a lot of rodents and pointed to places where they frequently made appearances.
Those basement shoeboxes were a seedy horror. Anyone else remember seeing a rat run up the screen in one of them?
Love Manhattan’s moviehouses for the peculiar theaters that were and for some that still are. But this site, with its weird, narrow escalator shafts, feels threadbare and barren.
At least the theater is surviving in some form, albeit all chopped up.
Dave, What do you think the odds are that this site will survive, say, another five years?
Wasn’t this the first Manhattan home of “Cinema Paradiso.” Can’t remember if it was one of the last here or one of the first at Lincoln Plaza.
I had heard about Jules Podell’s famous Latin Quarter (often mentioned on network TV) for at least 20 years before finally getting to New York. Alas, by then it had become Cine Lino. Still, when I first saw a (poor) movie there, I was much distracted by the sense of being in the space that the nightclub once had occupied.
Sorry I got to the Capitol only twice – “Kings Go Forth” and, near the end, for “In the Heat of the Night.”
As a Broadway theater during the past few decades, the Broadway had one of the best marquees in Manhattan. No more. Does the city prevent theaters from maintaining old-style marquees or is the theater owners who keep shrinking them or replacing them with nondescipt new marquees?