The Strand was closed for 6 weeks in late 1934-early 1935 due to a fire. It re-opened on January 23, 1935.
Here’s the New York Times account:
1,000 at Reopening Ceremony.
The reopening of the Strand Theatre, closed since a fire six weeks ago, went off according to schedule at 9:30 o'clock yesterday morning. A crowd of about 1,000 persons waited outside until Aldermanic President Bernard S. Deutsch appeared, with a pair of shears and a few well-chosen remarks, to cut the tape across the theatre’s front and to pronounce it officially open.
Before the ceremony, Mr. Deutsch had been conducted through the remodeled theatre, invited to test its new orchestra and balcony seats and to inspect the improved sound and ventilating system. After cutting the tape, however, he was obliged to hurry off to the Municipal Building and was unable to wait for the picture. One of the theatre’s officials urged him to take the scissors along and use them on the city budget. Mr. Deutsch left without them.
The last time I was in the Embassy Triplex was in early 1991, finally seeing Ghost because I figured I had to since it was a Best Picture nominee. The ouutstanding aspect of going to the theatre was that the house kitty jumped up on my lap and spent a good half hour asleep on my lap. I wish every theatre had cats to interact with the patrons.
When I lived in Los Angeles in 1982, the Four Star was a revival house. It was a great place to see old movies because it still had the look of a movie house from decades earlier, so you felt as if you had been transported back to when the films were knew. I particularly remember a double bill of Preminger’s Laura and John M. Stahl’s Leave Her To Heaven, the latter shown in a breathtakingly pristine Technicolor print.
The one time I was in Santa Barbara was in 1982, and we made sure to go to the Arlington. The film playing was Busby Berkeley’s The Gang’s All Here. I was so mesmerized by the theatre itself that I hardly paid attention to hte film (which I had already seen a couple of times).
Does anyone know if the Arlington was a revival house during this period, or was Gang’s a one-shot showing of an old classic?
Garth: “ was there today for the first time (never had the pleasure of the Waverly). At first didn’t like that you sink down in the seats but then found them quite comfortable. In theatre one there were brick walls, making for a very interesting setting.”
I went to the IFC for the first time recently to see Killer of Sheep, and almost everyone who sat down thought his/her seat was broken, until realizing they were meant to sink way down. I agree that once you get used to them they are very comfortable, and because the person in front of you is down low as well, the sight lines are comparable to those in theatres with stadium seating.
Sorry, Lost Memory, my computer screen kept freezing yesterday and all I could see was the corner building. Now I see that the theatre is also in the picture.
William, you’re right, it was a Benagan’s — i guess subconsciously the two are interchangeable.
For us Columbia students, the Olympia was our neighborhood house, and, as a second- and third-run house, it was a wonderful place to catch up on missed films. (In my day — mid-70s — the student newspaper, The Spectator ran a column, “At The Olympia” discussing the films playing in our backyard.)
My first time at the Olympia — during my second or third week at Columbia — was to see The Devil In Miss Jones. My roommate was so freaked out by it that he left half way through the picture.
Quote: Here is another modern photo of the former Hollywood Twin Cinemas building.
posted by Lost Memory on Dec 12, 2006 at 1:23pm
That’s actually the building next door to the old Hollywood Twin (which is the bigger building to the right). This corner building in the last quarter century or so has been an Argentinian restaurant, an Arby’s, B. Smith’s restaurant, a steak house and a Houlihans. It is now — of course, sigh — a Duane Reade.
Recently I was ehre and a woman of a certain age was gently explaining to the girl at the concession stand that she didn’t have to pay for her cup of coffee because she was Mrs. Daniel Talbot.
For a while, the 59th Street East had the gimmick of showing the same film in both auditoriums, with showings beginning on the hour. The first film under this policy was Adam At 6 A.M. which premiered on November 30, 1970.
The last line of Vincent Canby’s review in the Times stated, “Adam at 6 A.M. opened yesterday at the R.K.O. 59th Street Twin Theaters where, beginning at 11 A.M., the feature starts every hour, on the hour, in one of the two auditoriums.”
In the mid-1970s, the Cameo was a dollar house. I don’t recall how long this policy remained, but I used to drive from New Milford tp go here, and recall seeing Carrie, Burnt Offerings and Fast Break. The art deco appointments were still beautiful and in fine shape at the time, and every time I go by the Cameo it breaks my heart.
The Bantam Cinema became an art house in the late ‘60s — my guess would be 1968 — which, if memory serves, was also when it was renamed Cinema IV. I saw Bergman’s Hour Of The Wolf here in '68 or '69.
What I remember most about the Festival was that there was a row of potted (presumably fake) flowers at the bottom of the screen. My first time here was to see “I Never Sang For My Father” in 1970. Although this is apparently not a fondly-remembered theatre, the Festival was an important venue for art films at the time (Visconti’s “The Damned” was the Christmas 1969 attraction).
When Theatre 80 first opened as a revival house in the early 70s, it showed only musicals (its newspaper ads featured a drawing of a chrous line and the words: “The Movie Musical”). I don’t recall exactly when Howard Otway expeanded his repretoire, but I do remember seeing Hedy Lamarr in “Ecstacy” here in ‘74 or '75.
When Theatre 80 was a legit house in the 60s, the musical “You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown” had a very long run here.
I believe these days it is the home of the Pearl Theatre Company.
When the Hollywood was a gay housein the late 70s early 80s, the crusing areas had different environmental motifs. I remember there was a park setting — sort of an indoor version of the Central Park Ramble — and a cowboy bunkhouse.
I may be mistaken, but I think that in this period both sides were gay porn, and that the gay/straight divide came later in the 80s.
Exit, you’re mistaken. The Juliet was some 20 blocks north of the Columbia/Gemini/UA. A different theatre entirely.
The Strand was closed for 6 weeks in late 1934-early 1935 due to a fire. It re-opened on January 23, 1935.
Here’s the New York Times account:
1,000 at Reopening Ceremony.
The reopening of the Strand Theatre, closed since a fire six weeks ago, went off according to schedule at 9:30 o'clock yesterday morning. A crowd of about 1,000 persons waited outside until Aldermanic President Bernard S. Deutsch appeared, with a pair of shears and a few well-chosen remarks, to cut the tape across the theatre’s front and to pronounce it officially open.
Before the ceremony, Mr. Deutsch had been conducted through the remodeled theatre, invited to test its new orchestra and balcony seats and to inspect the improved sound and ventilating system. After cutting the tape, however, he was obliged to hurry off to the Municipal Building and was unable to wait for the picture. One of the theatre’s officials urged him to take the scissors along and use them on the city budget. Mr. Deutsch left without them.
The last time I was in the Embassy Triplex was in early 1991, finally seeing Ghost because I figured I had to since it was a Best Picture nominee. The ouutstanding aspect of going to the theatre was that the house kitty jumped up on my lap and spent a good half hour asleep on my lap. I wish every theatre had cats to interact with the patrons.
When I lived in Los Angeles in 1982, the Four Star was a revival house. It was a great place to see old movies because it still had the look of a movie house from decades earlier, so you felt as if you had been transported back to when the films were knew. I particularly remember a double bill of Preminger’s Laura and John M. Stahl’s Leave Her To Heaven, the latter shown in a breathtakingly pristine Technicolor print.
The one time I was in Santa Barbara was in 1982, and we made sure to go to the Arlington. The film playing was Busby Berkeley’s The Gang’s All Here. I was so mesmerized by the theatre itself that I hardly paid attention to hte film (which I had already seen a couple of times).
Does anyone know if the Arlington was a revival house during this period, or was Gang’s a one-shot showing of an old classic?
Garth: “ was there today for the first time (never had the pleasure of the Waverly). At first didn’t like that you sink down in the seats but then found them quite comfortable. In theatre one there were brick walls, making for a very interesting setting.”
I went to the IFC for the first time recently to see Killer of Sheep, and almost everyone who sat down thought his/her seat was broken, until realizing they were meant to sink way down. I agree that once you get used to them they are very comfortable, and because the person in front of you is down low as well, the sight lines are comparable to those in theatres with stadium seating.
Does anyone know the status of the union dispute?
Sorry, Lost Memory, my computer screen kept freezing yesterday and all I could see was the corner building. Now I see that the theatre is also in the picture.
William, you’re right, it was a Benagan’s — i guess subconsciously the two are interchangeable.
For us Columbia students, the Olympia was our neighborhood house, and, as a second- and third-run house, it was a wonderful place to catch up on missed films. (In my day — mid-70s — the student newspaper, The Spectator ran a column, “At The Olympia” discussing the films playing in our backyard.)
My first time at the Olympia — during my second or third week at Columbia — was to see The Devil In Miss Jones. My roommate was so freaked out by it that he left half way through the picture.
Quote: Here is another modern photo of the former Hollywood Twin Cinemas building.
posted by Lost Memory on Dec 12, 2006 at 1:23pm
That’s actually the building next door to the old Hollywood Twin (which is the bigger building to the right). This corner building in the last quarter century or so has been an Argentinian restaurant, an Arby’s, B. Smith’s restaurant, a steak house and a Houlihans. It is now — of course, sigh — a Duane Reade.
Recently I was ehre and a woman of a certain age was gently explaining to the girl at the concession stand that she didn’t have to pay for her cup of coffee because she was Mrs. Daniel Talbot.
For a while, the 59th Street East had the gimmick of showing the same film in both auditoriums, with showings beginning on the hour. The first film under this policy was Adam At 6 A.M. which premiered on November 30, 1970.
The last line of Vincent Canby’s review in the Times stated, “Adam at 6 A.M. opened yesterday at the R.K.O. 59th Street Twin Theaters where, beginning at 11 A.M., the feature starts every hour, on the hour, in one of the two auditoriums.”
In the mid-1970s, the Cameo was a dollar house. I don’t recall how long this policy remained, but I used to drive from New Milford tp go here, and recall seeing Carrie, Burnt Offerings and Fast Break. The art deco appointments were still beautiful and in fine shape at the time, and every time I go by the Cameo it breaks my heart.
When it was a gay porn house in the mid-70s, it was called the Byron (as in Lord Byron, not, as some wags had it, Stuart Byron).
In the 60s, the Whalley became a roadshow house. My parents took us here from New Milford to see Dr. Zhivago, Gone With The Wind and Oliver!
The Bantam Cinema became an art house in the late ‘60s — my guess would be 1968 — which, if memory serves, was also when it was renamed Cinema IV. I saw Bergman’s Hour Of The Wolf here in '68 or '69.
What I remember most about the Festival was that there was a row of potted (presumably fake) flowers at the bottom of the screen. My first time here was to see “I Never Sang For My Father” in 1970. Although this is apparently not a fondly-remembered theatre, the Festival was an important venue for art films at the time (Visconti’s “The Damned” was the Christmas 1969 attraction).
When Theatre 80 first opened as a revival house in the early 70s, it showed only musicals (its newspaper ads featured a drawing of a chrous line and the words: “The Movie Musical”). I don’t recall exactly when Howard Otway expeanded his repretoire, but I do remember seeing Hedy Lamarr in “Ecstacy” here in ‘74 or '75.
When Theatre 80 was a legit house in the 60s, the musical “You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown” had a very long run here.
I believe these days it is the home of the Pearl Theatre Company.
When the Hollywood was a gay housein the late 70s early 80s, the crusing areas had different environmental motifs. I remember there was a park setting — sort of an indoor version of the Central Park Ramble — and a cowboy bunkhouse.
I may be mistaken, but I think that in this period both sides were gay porn, and that the gay/straight divide came later in the 80s.
The Eastside Cinema actually opened on January 21, 1973. Its premiere attraction was “Under Milk Wood.”