A new Century megaplex and retail complex is under construction on the same side of Broadway on the next block. There will be a big vertical sign and marquee. Together with the Fox marquee less than a block away, this will give Downtown Redwood City quite a nice “Theatre Row” look. Now, if the Fox would just get the ornamental neon back on its marquee, it would be perfect. The existing flashing FOX letters are still there, thank goodness. I know it’s very expensive to do, but I hope the Fox marquee will one day get all of its neon back. Nevertheless, kudos for the hardworking folks who keep the Fox alive, and the patrons who support it.
Beyond a definite Skouras-style concession counter (long gone), I’m not aware that this theatre ever was subjected to any degree of Skouras treatment. As far as I know, the auditorium has always remained fully intact in its atmospheric Spanish/Moorish village style. Another Central Valley atmospheric theatre, the Fox in Bakersfield, indeed had its auditorium and entry completely redone in the Skouras style, and remains so.
Other names this theatre briefly had, after being known as the Sunnyvale: Town and Country Cinema (due to the close proximity of the Town and Country shopping center a block away), and Murphy Street Cinema (very briefly). The only reason I know of the latter name is that I once worked as an illustrator for the graphics firm in Sunnyvale that designed the type and logo for its operators under that name, though by the time I saw said logo the theatre had closed and was being remodeled for its current function, and the Murphy Street Cinema logo was simply a published item in my employer’s portfolio.
Surprisingly enough, though it seems the new building will not have a theatre inside, the builders have gone ahead and installed a beautiful and neon-bedecked marquee, reading FINE ARTS, which would have served the theatre, but will now herald the name and entrance of the building. It’s a shame that the theatre part of the development fell through. The building is, I think, a handsome piece of Moderne Revival, and I’m sure out-of-towners in the future will assume the building houses a theatre.
…or am I missing something? Is a theatre going in there after all?
When the Berkeley was demolished, S. Charles Lee’s Moderne facade was carefully removed first, revealing the original two-toned brick facade almost totally intact underneath. The large entrance arch still had ornamental lightbulb sockets outlining it—some of which still housed bulbs. Members of one of the local historical organizations photodocumented the original facade before it too was removed. As the theatre came down, I could see the fluted interior pilasters from S. Charles Lee’s remodel were still intact, but had been painted in vertical stripes of turquoise and maroon, with the bays between them painted off-white. It appeared as if the sidewalls had been covered over with fabric in the 1970s remodel, which had extended from the screen all the way to the rearmost fluted pilaster, which had not been covered, but had been painted dark brown (remember the “natural” earthtoned 70s, when even Moderne buildings were swathed in muddy color schemes in an attempt to make them appear more “of the earth”?).
After demolition, one could see the outline of the balcony on the common wall the theatre shared with the old hotel (or apartment building—still extant). Also, there was a surface of an upstairs office or storeroom wall, which had shreds of very old (‘Teens?) movie posters glued to it!
The terrazzo sidewalk which stretched partway out to the curb survived for a short time, but then vanished when the new building went up at the site.
It’s great to hear the Bay has a curtain once again! I saw “Searching for Bobby Fisher” there in the mid-1990s after having not been to the Bay since 1973, and the screen at the time was bare, masked by black fabric (the organ is behind). I thought at the time that the organ was a wonderful addition, but I missed the double curtain I remembered from my childhood (one was a waterfall curtain and the other parted), as well as the curved walls on either side with their softly polychromed murals of stylized foliage in the so-called Skouras Style. I’m so glad to hear that a curtain of some sort has returned to the Bay! Now if there’d be a return to the original facade color scheme next time it’s time to repaint, and at the very least a repairing of the surviving pink, green and yellow animated neon display at the center of the marquee—I’d truly be thrilled! Nevertheless, if I were a resident of Seal Beach or the surrounding communities, this would still be a theatre I would attend often.
I saw the outside of this theatre once, in 1991. It was open at that time. I remeber it had a classic Sixties facade, overhanging marquee, and sign. I wandered around it, and structurally it appeared to me to be a considerably older theatre.
A friend of mine and I visited this theatre just a couple of weeks before the fire, so that he could add the theatre to his series of art photos of theatre neon at dusk. This little theatre was a gem among smalltown California theatres. The manager and assistant manager were beyond hospitable in welcoming us to the theatre and showing us around. We observed how the theatre was a magnet to local children and teenagers, all of whom seemed to be having a wonderful time meeting friends there, and greeting each other on the street. It seemed like they and the staff all knew each other as well. Recently I visited the ruins, and indeed it looks like there is enough of the structure extant that, combined with photos and local folks' memories, a decent replication would be possible. The photo my friend took of the neon would be an excellent resource in replication of the neon colors. The terrazzo, bottom portion of the box office and some of the entrance walls are extant. Enough survives of the entrance doors and their etched glass swans for replication to be possible. The wonderful “Mission-Meets-Moderne” style entrance tower was totally destroyed, to the point of the steel beams melting. The concrete shell of the auditorium stands complete, but I couldn’t tell the condition of the interior, except that the roof was gone. I wish the people of Avenal the very best in their efforts to bring this theatre back.
Like it or not, I have frequently seen large groups of Indian folks gathered at the entrance to the Towne. Indians are avid moviegoers. I have a great appreciation for many aspects of Indian culture and have even seen a few films from India. Sure, I’d rather see the Towne continue on as an art house, but if Indian product keeps the doors open, so be it. One of these days I may get my wife to gather together a few of the Indian-American folks from her work and go see a movie there…that way at least they could explain to us what’s going on with the story, as I doubt there’ll be subtitles.
A comment in response to rp2813. Actually in an earlier posting I did complain about the removal of the original tilework around the entrance, followed by a description of the acidic green tile (albeit high end) which has replaced it. This was around the time that this website was going through some remodeling, and my posting about the tile vanished into the ether. Indeed, some members of the Preservation Action Council of San Jose, to which I belong, wrote letters of protest about the impending removal of the original tile—to no avail.
Regarding the whole hailstorm of criticism from the Hispanic community in the early 90s when the Studio was to have been “taken away from them” for use as a performing arts facility…I remember it well. A lot of this was part of a keen sensitivity which had developed locally in that community following the creation of a statue of Thomas Fallon, first American Mayor of San Jose—a man not particularly regarded fondly in Hispanic circles—which was to have been erected Downtown. That statue languishes in storage, and later, instead perhaps, we got “graced” by the infamous coiled serpentine Quetzalcoatl statue, whose resemblance to a familiar substance is very evident upon viewing. It’s not only sad aesthetically, but a violation of separation of Church and State, as city funds went into it, and Quetzalcoatl is still considered a “viable” deity in some admittedly small circles. Government should be in the business of Representation, not Appeasement.
Anyway, in getting back to things theatrical, I agree with the above poster that successive nightclub uses do seem to gradually erode the features of converted theatres.
The Vine was twinned sometime before 1981, because when my cousin moved to Livermore at that time, it was already twinned. About two years ago, its plain circa 1960s exterior was updated to a pleasing brick and tile look, with a retro style wedge shaped marquee lit in part with bare bulbs. More screens were added on adjacent property as well.
I remember this theatre being written up in an architecture magazine (possibly Architectural Record) at the time of its opening under the title “A Movie Palace for the Eighties.” This theatre is plainer than the megaplexes being built today, but it was quite elegant compared to those cinemas built in the preceding decade of the 1970s, so at the time it did indeed seem like a modern movie palace by comparison.
From age 10 to 21, I grew up in Aptos. Most of my moviegoing was at the Capitola Theatre and 41st Ave. Playhouse in Capitola, or the Rio and Del Mar in Santa Cruz. However, we did occasionally go to the Aptos Twin. Somewhere I remember reading that this theatre was built in 1961, certainly the architecture of the Rancho del Mar shopping center would support this, but that would put the Aptos Twin in the catagory of an extrememly early twin cinema. It is located in one corner of the shopping center in a building which contains offices and retail space as well. The lobby is long and narrow, and the two auditoriums open off of it in opposite directions. The interior was very plain. Someone had painted a mural of a 1930s era Mickey Mouse on one lobby wall, and there was a large collage of photo cutouts of various movie subjects on the wall adjacent. The auditoriums were constructed of cement block, and draped with olive colored pleated fabric, with matching curtains which were still used when I last went there in the mid-Eighties. I’m not sure about the smaller auditorium, but the larger had a carpeted thrust stage in front of the curtain, with a few steps leading up to it.
For much of its life, the Aptos Twin was a United Artists operation. Its original marquee sign tower, which stood out in the parking lot, was a classic piece of Sixties signage. It was “trimmed-down” and made more generic in the 1990s, and the United Artists logo applied to it, as well as new reader boards and letters. The sign remains much the same today, but with the United Artists logo gone and “Aptos Cinemas” replacing it in red Broadway font.
This past Monday was my first work session at the theatre—decorative paint restoration—since the triplex partition walls came down. Not only is it wonderful to see the auditorium “reunited,” but the acoustics are phenomenal. Tom DeLay played for a time on the organ so that myself and a few visitors could hear the change in sound quality. This organ already sounded great back when the balcony was walled off. Now the result is nothing short of breathtaking. While I was there, a local member of Monterey’s operatic commiunity went onstage and sang part of “Se Vuol Ballare…” from “The Marriage of Figaro.” He sounded superb. One can talk at normal conversational level, or a stage whisper, and be heard perfectly well from the top of the balcony.
William David also designed the little round Streamline Moderne building immediately on your right as you approach the Golden Gate Bridge Northbound. It was originally a restaurant, and is now a souvenier store.
Yes, the Enean was part of the Enea family’s chain. I was also told some time ago by theatre organ authority Dick Taylor that the Enean was the last theatre in the Bay Area to be equipped with an organ before that practice stopped after the silent era had clearly ended.
Another Enean still stands, in Concord, and is a church. On the site of their drive-in in Dublin (CA) is a shopping center which bears the Enea name. Its sign can be seen from the 580 and 680 freeways adjacent.
I remember seeing this drive-in from the 280 freeway. The screen looked like a little animated postage stamp, off in the distance from that vantage point.
In the early Nineties a good friend of mine lived in the condo complex on the site of the El Rancho, and it was from him that I learned about the drive-in having been there. He gloated over the fact that he’d learned something about a San Jose area theatre before I did (and he’s not a theatre buff). There is a small diner or tavern across the street still called the El Rancho.
For some years the vertical sign from the Obispo was stored outside behind the Central Coast (formerly Pismo) Theatre in Pismo Beach. It’s no longer there, though, and I have no idea what happened to it.
Here are some other Pussycat theatres which come to mind:
Long Beach, on Ocean Ave in the heart of the old theatre district. It was a built-from-scratch modern theatre. I remember seeing it as a child when I lived in Seal Beach. It had the oval shaped sign with Ms. Pussycat on it, and the slogan, “It’s a Pussycat Theatre.” Long since demolished, along with all of Downtown Long Beach’s theatre district.
San Jose had:
The abovementioned theatre which later became the arthouse Camera One, recently closed.
Pussycat Theatre #2, which later became THE Pussycat after the above became Camera One. This one was the former Gay Theatre, opened as a firstrun house in 1949, and now Pete Escovedo’s Latin Jazz Club.
The Towne Theatre, operated for a time by the Pussycat people while keeping its Towne name, built in 1928 as the Hester, San Jose’s first neighborhood theatre. Switched to arthouse faire and triplexed in the early 90s, but recently switched over to Indian films, and seems to be enjoying success as such.
San Francisco’s Pussycat was right in the middle of the Downtown Market Street theatre district. It was the theatre which had formerly been the Egyptian, and then the Guild. It closed around the late 1980s and became retail space.
Oakland had two Pussycats: One was Downtown in the Broadway theatre district. It was a circa 1910 large nickelodeon called the Regent, which later was a newsreel theatre. It closed in the mid 80s, the vertical sign was salvaged, and a few years later the building was demolished, and the property is still empty land.
Oakland’s second Pussycat was a very old small neghborhood theatre out on Telegraph Avenue which eventually was called the Tower, given a late 30s moderne and Skouras makeover and run by Fox West Coast. Later, the TOWER letters were removed and replaced by PUSSYCAT on all three sides of the trapezoidal marquee. The theatre closed for good around the late 80s. It sat empty for several years, suffered a fire, and was then demolished. The last time I was by the property (a few months ago) it was still vacant. An antique dealer friend of mine acquired one of the metal channel letter PUSSYCAT signs from the marquee, but restored and then sold it.
My friend, theatre organist Bill Langford recalled that when he was organist at Ye Olde Pizza Joynt in nearby San Lorenzo in the Sixties, he met the wife of the then owner of the Alvarado. She stated that her husband was “a theatre owner.” The emphatic way she made this remark caused Bill to think that her husband must be the owner of a whole chain. At some point later, Bill found out that this “theatre owner” simply owned the flea-bitten little Alvarado, and had to just shake his head. Shortly thereafter, the theatre was demolished, as stated above. I have never seen a picture of it, but Bill told me it had some kind of deco marquee and looked typical for a small town. Union city was the uniting of the unincorporated communities of Decoto and Alvarado. Decoto had its own theatre as well, a tiny movie house called the Decoto, which still stands and has long been a church.
Although long used as a church, the building still looks very much like a theatre and is worth at least a driveby look for fans of near-forgotten smalltown theatres. The moderne vertical sign is blank but still survives, as does the marquee. I seem to remember that there is a terrazzo sidewalk and the original doors are still in place. The concrete structure of the building is very sturdy looking. Plainly, this was considered a quality theatre at the time of its opening, and quite deluxe for this size of town.
It is interesting to note that the former Cadillac showroom housing this megaplex was designed in the 20s by Weeks & Day, architects of a number of theatres in the Bay Area and elsewhere, including:
(Fox) Peninsula, Burlingame (demolished)
Fox Oakland (scheduled for revival)
Stanford, Palo Alto (restored)
(Fox) California, San Jose (restored)
(Loew’s) State, Los Angeles (church)
Fox, San Diego (Copley Symphony Hall)
Thanks to Jim Rankin (fellow THS member) for bringing up Tom Wolfe’s “From Bauhaus to Our House.” I read this enlightening book nearly two decades ago before going to art school, and applauded all the way through. I recommend it for everyone who seeks to MAKE THE PUBLIC HAPPY by venturing into any field of design, but particularly architecture. The Bauhaus has a valid place in the history of architecture, but it was embraced far too widely, mainly, I think, because it made it possible to build “fine” buildings cheaply. Personally, as an artist of stained glass and occasional mural work (and some theatre decorative restoration both professionally and as a volunteer), I resent the Bauhaus Movement for putting thousands of sculptors and decorators out of business, both past and future. I have long thought of the Bauhaus/“International Style” as the ultimate aesthetic slap against multiculturalism, in that a skyscraper in Rio de Janiero looks like a skyscraper in Cairo and looks like one in New York—no references to local/regional/national history or ethnic influence whatsoever.
To get back a little bit toward the subject of the Egyptian, I must say that Egypt itself, while blighted abundantly by the Bauhaus influence, is experiencing a strong and prolific movement in creating architecture which reflects that country’s history, both Islamic and Pharaonic. Many examples are beautifully designed, though there are some oddball examples as well.
A new Century megaplex and retail complex is under construction on the same side of Broadway on the next block. There will be a big vertical sign and marquee. Together with the Fox marquee less than a block away, this will give Downtown Redwood City quite a nice “Theatre Row” look. Now, if the Fox would just get the ornamental neon back on its marquee, it would be perfect. The existing flashing FOX letters are still there, thank goodness. I know it’s very expensive to do, but I hope the Fox marquee will one day get all of its neon back. Nevertheless, kudos for the hardworking folks who keep the Fox alive, and the patrons who support it.
Beyond a definite Skouras-style concession counter (long gone), I’m not aware that this theatre ever was subjected to any degree of Skouras treatment. As far as I know, the auditorium has always remained fully intact in its atmospheric Spanish/Moorish village style. Another Central Valley atmospheric theatre, the Fox in Bakersfield, indeed had its auditorium and entry completely redone in the Skouras style, and remains so.
Other names this theatre briefly had, after being known as the Sunnyvale: Town and Country Cinema (due to the close proximity of the Town and Country shopping center a block away), and Murphy Street Cinema (very briefly). The only reason I know of the latter name is that I once worked as an illustrator for the graphics firm in Sunnyvale that designed the type and logo for its operators under that name, though by the time I saw said logo the theatre had closed and was being remodeled for its current function, and the Murphy Street Cinema logo was simply a published item in my employer’s portfolio.
Surprisingly enough, though it seems the new building will not have a theatre inside, the builders have gone ahead and installed a beautiful and neon-bedecked marquee, reading FINE ARTS, which would have served the theatre, but will now herald the name and entrance of the building. It’s a shame that the theatre part of the development fell through. The building is, I think, a handsome piece of Moderne Revival, and I’m sure out-of-towners in the future will assume the building houses a theatre.
…or am I missing something? Is a theatre going in there after all?
When the Berkeley was demolished, S. Charles Lee’s Moderne facade was carefully removed first, revealing the original two-toned brick facade almost totally intact underneath. The large entrance arch still had ornamental lightbulb sockets outlining it—some of which still housed bulbs. Members of one of the local historical organizations photodocumented the original facade before it too was removed. As the theatre came down, I could see the fluted interior pilasters from S. Charles Lee’s remodel were still intact, but had been painted in vertical stripes of turquoise and maroon, with the bays between them painted off-white. It appeared as if the sidewalls had been covered over with fabric in the 1970s remodel, which had extended from the screen all the way to the rearmost fluted pilaster, which had not been covered, but had been painted dark brown (remember the “natural” earthtoned 70s, when even Moderne buildings were swathed in muddy color schemes in an attempt to make them appear more “of the earth”?).
After demolition, one could see the outline of the balcony on the common wall the theatre shared with the old hotel (or apartment building—still extant). Also, there was a surface of an upstairs office or storeroom wall, which had shreds of very old (‘Teens?) movie posters glued to it!
The terrazzo sidewalk which stretched partway out to the curb survived for a short time, but then vanished when the new building went up at the site.
It’s great to hear the Bay has a curtain once again! I saw “Searching for Bobby Fisher” there in the mid-1990s after having not been to the Bay since 1973, and the screen at the time was bare, masked by black fabric (the organ is behind). I thought at the time that the organ was a wonderful addition, but I missed the double curtain I remembered from my childhood (one was a waterfall curtain and the other parted), as well as the curved walls on either side with their softly polychromed murals of stylized foliage in the so-called Skouras Style. I’m so glad to hear that a curtain of some sort has returned to the Bay! Now if there’d be a return to the original facade color scheme next time it’s time to repaint, and at the very least a repairing of the surviving pink, green and yellow animated neon display at the center of the marquee—I’d truly be thrilled! Nevertheless, if I were a resident of Seal Beach or the surrounding communities, this would still be a theatre I would attend often.
I saw the outside of this theatre once, in 1991. It was open at that time. I remeber it had a classic Sixties facade, overhanging marquee, and sign. I wandered around it, and structurally it appeared to me to be a considerably older theatre.
A friend of mine and I visited this theatre just a couple of weeks before the fire, so that he could add the theatre to his series of art photos of theatre neon at dusk. This little theatre was a gem among smalltown California theatres. The manager and assistant manager were beyond hospitable in welcoming us to the theatre and showing us around. We observed how the theatre was a magnet to local children and teenagers, all of whom seemed to be having a wonderful time meeting friends there, and greeting each other on the street. It seemed like they and the staff all knew each other as well. Recently I visited the ruins, and indeed it looks like there is enough of the structure extant that, combined with photos and local folks' memories, a decent replication would be possible. The photo my friend took of the neon would be an excellent resource in replication of the neon colors. The terrazzo, bottom portion of the box office and some of the entrance walls are extant. Enough survives of the entrance doors and their etched glass swans for replication to be possible. The wonderful “Mission-Meets-Moderne” style entrance tower was totally destroyed, to the point of the steel beams melting. The concrete shell of the auditorium stands complete, but I couldn’t tell the condition of the interior, except that the roof was gone. I wish the people of Avenal the very best in their efforts to bring this theatre back.
Like it or not, I have frequently seen large groups of Indian folks gathered at the entrance to the Towne. Indians are avid moviegoers. I have a great appreciation for many aspects of Indian culture and have even seen a few films from India. Sure, I’d rather see the Towne continue on as an art house, but if Indian product keeps the doors open, so be it. One of these days I may get my wife to gather together a few of the Indian-American folks from her work and go see a movie there…that way at least they could explain to us what’s going on with the story, as I doubt there’ll be subtitles.
A comment in response to rp2813. Actually in an earlier posting I did complain about the removal of the original tilework around the entrance, followed by a description of the acidic green tile (albeit high end) which has replaced it. This was around the time that this website was going through some remodeling, and my posting about the tile vanished into the ether. Indeed, some members of the Preservation Action Council of San Jose, to which I belong, wrote letters of protest about the impending removal of the original tile—to no avail.
Regarding the whole hailstorm of criticism from the Hispanic community in the early 90s when the Studio was to have been “taken away from them” for use as a performing arts facility…I remember it well. A lot of this was part of a keen sensitivity which had developed locally in that community following the creation of a statue of Thomas Fallon, first American Mayor of San Jose—a man not particularly regarded fondly in Hispanic circles—which was to have been erected Downtown. That statue languishes in storage, and later, instead perhaps, we got “graced” by the infamous coiled serpentine Quetzalcoatl statue, whose resemblance to a familiar substance is very evident upon viewing. It’s not only sad aesthetically, but a violation of separation of Church and State, as city funds went into it, and Quetzalcoatl is still considered a “viable” deity in some admittedly small circles. Government should be in the business of Representation, not Appeasement.
Anyway, in getting back to things theatrical, I agree with the above poster that successive nightclub uses do seem to gradually erode the features of converted theatres.
The Vine was twinned sometime before 1981, because when my cousin moved to Livermore at that time, it was already twinned. About two years ago, its plain circa 1960s exterior was updated to a pleasing brick and tile look, with a retro style wedge shaped marquee lit in part with bare bulbs. More screens were added on adjacent property as well.
I remember this theatre being written up in an architecture magazine (possibly Architectural Record) at the time of its opening under the title “A Movie Palace for the Eighties.” This theatre is plainer than the megaplexes being built today, but it was quite elegant compared to those cinemas built in the preceding decade of the 1970s, so at the time it did indeed seem like a modern movie palace by comparison.
From age 10 to 21, I grew up in Aptos. Most of my moviegoing was at the Capitola Theatre and 41st Ave. Playhouse in Capitola, or the Rio and Del Mar in Santa Cruz. However, we did occasionally go to the Aptos Twin. Somewhere I remember reading that this theatre was built in 1961, certainly the architecture of the Rancho del Mar shopping center would support this, but that would put the Aptos Twin in the catagory of an extrememly early twin cinema. It is located in one corner of the shopping center in a building which contains offices and retail space as well. The lobby is long and narrow, and the two auditoriums open off of it in opposite directions. The interior was very plain. Someone had painted a mural of a 1930s era Mickey Mouse on one lobby wall, and there was a large collage of photo cutouts of various movie subjects on the wall adjacent. The auditoriums were constructed of cement block, and draped with olive colored pleated fabric, with matching curtains which were still used when I last went there in the mid-Eighties. I’m not sure about the smaller auditorium, but the larger had a carpeted thrust stage in front of the curtain, with a few steps leading up to it.
For much of its life, the Aptos Twin was a United Artists operation. Its original marquee sign tower, which stood out in the parking lot, was a classic piece of Sixties signage. It was “trimmed-down” and made more generic in the 1990s, and the United Artists logo applied to it, as well as new reader boards and letters. The sign remains much the same today, but with the United Artists logo gone and “Aptos Cinemas” replacing it in red Broadway font.
This past Monday was my first work session at the theatre—decorative paint restoration—since the triplex partition walls came down. Not only is it wonderful to see the auditorium “reunited,” but the acoustics are phenomenal. Tom DeLay played for a time on the organ so that myself and a few visitors could hear the change in sound quality. This organ already sounded great back when the balcony was walled off. Now the result is nothing short of breathtaking. While I was there, a local member of Monterey’s operatic commiunity went onstage and sang part of “Se Vuol Ballare…” from “The Marriage of Figaro.” He sounded superb. One can talk at normal conversational level, or a stage whisper, and be heard perfectly well from the top of the balcony.
William David also designed the little round Streamline Moderne building immediately on your right as you approach the Golden Gate Bridge Northbound. It was originally a restaurant, and is now a souvenier store.
Yes, the Enean was part of the Enea family’s chain. I was also told some time ago by theatre organ authority Dick Taylor that the Enean was the last theatre in the Bay Area to be equipped with an organ before that practice stopped after the silent era had clearly ended.
Another Enean still stands, in Concord, and is a church. On the site of their drive-in in Dublin (CA) is a shopping center which bears the Enea name. Its sign can be seen from the 580 and 680 freeways adjacent.
I remember seeing this drive-in from the 280 freeway. The screen looked like a little animated postage stamp, off in the distance from that vantage point.
In the early Nineties a good friend of mine lived in the condo complex on the site of the El Rancho, and it was from him that I learned about the drive-in having been there. He gloated over the fact that he’d learned something about a San Jose area theatre before I did (and he’s not a theatre buff). There is a small diner or tavern across the street still called the El Rancho.
For some years the vertical sign from the Obispo was stored outside behind the Central Coast (formerly Pismo) Theatre in Pismo Beach. It’s no longer there, though, and I have no idea what happened to it.
Here are some other Pussycat theatres which come to mind:
Long Beach, on Ocean Ave in the heart of the old theatre district. It was a built-from-scratch modern theatre. I remember seeing it as a child when I lived in Seal Beach. It had the oval shaped sign with Ms. Pussycat on it, and the slogan, “It’s a Pussycat Theatre.” Long since demolished, along with all of Downtown Long Beach’s theatre district.
San Jose had:
The abovementioned theatre which later became the arthouse Camera One, recently closed.
Pussycat Theatre #2, which later became THE Pussycat after the above became Camera One. This one was the former Gay Theatre, opened as a firstrun house in 1949, and now Pete Escovedo’s Latin Jazz Club.
The Towne Theatre, operated for a time by the Pussycat people while keeping its Towne name, built in 1928 as the Hester, San Jose’s first neighborhood theatre. Switched to arthouse faire and triplexed in the early 90s, but recently switched over to Indian films, and seems to be enjoying success as such.
San Francisco’s Pussycat was right in the middle of the Downtown Market Street theatre district. It was the theatre which had formerly been the Egyptian, and then the Guild. It closed around the late 1980s and became retail space.
Oakland had two Pussycats: One was Downtown in the Broadway theatre district. It was a circa 1910 large nickelodeon called the Regent, which later was a newsreel theatre. It closed in the mid 80s, the vertical sign was salvaged, and a few years later the building was demolished, and the property is still empty land.
Oakland’s second Pussycat was a very old small neghborhood theatre out on Telegraph Avenue which eventually was called the Tower, given a late 30s moderne and Skouras makeover and run by Fox West Coast. Later, the TOWER letters were removed and replaced by PUSSYCAT on all three sides of the trapezoidal marquee. The theatre closed for good around the late 80s. It sat empty for several years, suffered a fire, and was then demolished. The last time I was by the property (a few months ago) it was still vacant. An antique dealer friend of mine acquired one of the metal channel letter PUSSYCAT signs from the marquee, but restored and then sold it.
Is this the theatre which had a huge neon “X” outside?
My friend, theatre organist Bill Langford recalled that when he was organist at Ye Olde Pizza Joynt in nearby San Lorenzo in the Sixties, he met the wife of the then owner of the Alvarado. She stated that her husband was “a theatre owner.” The emphatic way she made this remark caused Bill to think that her husband must be the owner of a whole chain. At some point later, Bill found out that this “theatre owner” simply owned the flea-bitten little Alvarado, and had to just shake his head. Shortly thereafter, the theatre was demolished, as stated above. I have never seen a picture of it, but Bill told me it had some kind of deco marquee and looked typical for a small town. Union city was the uniting of the unincorporated communities of Decoto and Alvarado. Decoto had its own theatre as well, a tiny movie house called the Decoto, which still stands and has long been a church.
Although long used as a church, the building still looks very much like a theatre and is worth at least a driveby look for fans of near-forgotten smalltown theatres. The moderne vertical sign is blank but still survives, as does the marquee. I seem to remember that there is a terrazzo sidewalk and the original doors are still in place. The concrete structure of the building is very sturdy looking. Plainly, this was considered a quality theatre at the time of its opening, and quite deluxe for this size of town.
It is interesting to note that the former Cadillac showroom housing this megaplex was designed in the 20s by Weeks & Day, architects of a number of theatres in the Bay Area and elsewhere, including:
(Fox) Peninsula, Burlingame (demolished)
Fox Oakland (scheduled for revival)
Stanford, Palo Alto (restored)
(Fox) California, San Jose (restored)
(Loew’s) State, Los Angeles (church)
Fox, San Diego (Copley Symphony Hall)
Thanks to Jim Rankin (fellow THS member) for bringing up Tom Wolfe’s “From Bauhaus to Our House.” I read this enlightening book nearly two decades ago before going to art school, and applauded all the way through. I recommend it for everyone who seeks to MAKE THE PUBLIC HAPPY by venturing into any field of design, but particularly architecture. The Bauhaus has a valid place in the history of architecture, but it was embraced far too widely, mainly, I think, because it made it possible to build “fine” buildings cheaply. Personally, as an artist of stained glass and occasional mural work (and some theatre decorative restoration both professionally and as a volunteer), I resent the Bauhaus Movement for putting thousands of sculptors and decorators out of business, both past and future. I have long thought of the Bauhaus/“International Style” as the ultimate aesthetic slap against multiculturalism, in that a skyscraper in Rio de Janiero looks like a skyscraper in Cairo and looks like one in New York—no references to local/regional/national history or ethnic influence whatsoever.
To get back a little bit toward the subject of the Egyptian, I must say that Egypt itself, while blighted abundantly by the Bauhaus influence, is experiencing a strong and prolific movement in creating architecture which reflects that country’s history, both Islamic and Pharaonic. Many examples are beautifully designed, though there are some oddball examples as well.