They are putting in a Duane Reade. I got a call from one of the construction people asking me about a fountain they found behind a wall. He said it was rather “modern looking” which leads me to believe it dates back to the reconstruction that Raymond Hood carried out when it was Mori’s restaurant. He was a frequent customer and friend of the family. The Duane Reade people also wanted information about the site’s days as a movie theatre since they had heard it was an important venue. I told them it was responsible for introducing the auteur theory to the United States and that it was also one of the bastions of 60s American independent cinema. Regards, rudy franchi
This one really hurts. I grew up at 67th Street and York Avenue in the 1950s. Along with the belly-run double bills at the York Theatre, the higher end fare at the Beekman was a major factor in contributing to the fascination with film that led to a career in the movie business. One of my neighbors was the theatre’s projectionist and I have great memories of hours spent in the clinically clean booth of the theatre, learning the basics of the projectionist’s craft….an education that was invaluable when I went on to manage a series of movie theatres in New York. Regards, rudy franchi, Nostalgia Factory (www.nostalgia.com)
Yes, that was our first fumbling attempt to return this theater to its former days of non glory. I have such bad memories of that expierence that I had forgotten about the Lean film. Regards, rudy
Yes, Breathless was our house cat. I ran the Bleecker Street Cinema in the early 60s (along with the late Marshall Lewis.) I would sometimes get a buzz on the house phone from the projection booth with the terse message “cat’s on the screen.:” Breathless, a jet black smallish creature, would escape from the office area and start to climb the movie screen (which like most screens at the time had small holes in it, so it wouldn’t billow in a draft. ) I would go out on the small stage in front of the screen and grab the cat, who was usally about two thirds of the way up the screen. Regulars in the audience would root for the cat to get to the top , a goal I don’t think he ever reached.
That screen also comes into play with regard to Francois Truffaut. Indeed The Bleecker Street was his favorite theater in New York, along with most of the new wave directors (Godard, Resnias, Colpi were a few of our visitors. ) At that time, The Bleecker Street was the home of The NY Film Bulletin, a small magazine I published. We were the first to present translations from Cahiers du Cinema, the French magazine that was the source of Les Politiques Des Auteurs, known in the U.S. as the auteur theory. Most people remembrer The Bleecker Street as two theaters, but back then it was only one with 199 seats. (It had been an off-broadway theatre and 200 or more seats meant higher union wages.) The space that became the other theatre was a cavernous area that we used as an office. It was also an area that became a salon for the film literati of New York. Andy Sarris, Eugene Archer, Jonas Mekas and many others would just drop in and soon heated dicsussions would get underway. The auteur theory was quite controversial at the time and not at all accepted by most of the movie establishement. Pauline Kael was strongly against and was such other leading lights st Bosley Crowther and Dwight MacDonald. When Truffaut came to New York he would often stop by the Bleecker Street. I did one of the noted interviews with him on the auteur theory in the large backroom. We were fanatical about proper projection and proper screen ratio for the three screen formats. We had evolved a system of mattes that would work by pulleys so as to change from CinemaScope to standard ratio to what was known then as VistaVision (and is now known as wide-screen.). Since we always showed double bills, if they were in different formats, we would have to go backstage and re-arrange the mattes. On one of Truffaut’s visits were showinga CinemaScope film (actually it was Jules and Jim) and the second featurre was standard format. I excused myself, telling him I had to change the screen ratio. He asked if he could come and watch. He stepped behind the screen as I worked the pulleys and as soon as finished, the film started. Truffaut was fascinated by seeing the film projected through the screeen and onto this body also by wathcing the audience watch a film. He stayed back there for quite awhile. The result of that expierence can be seen in his next film, The Soft Skin, when the lead actor goes behind a movie screen.
The Bleecker Street was owned by film-maker Lionel Rogosin (On The Bowery, Come Back Africa.) It was because of his documentary on South Africa that the theater came into existence. He couldn’t find a theater interested in showing it on his terms, so being quite wealthy, he rented an off-broaway theater which for years had been showing Lorca’s Blood Wedding. He opened Come Back Africa to respectful but not great reviews. He dug in his heels and just kept showing it. Finally he realized he had a theatre that was in trouble. He wanted to leave the country to make a film so he hired Marshall and I to run it for him. We did so on the condition that we would only have to
shoe Come Back Africa no more than twice a year.
If I had the time, I could tell dozens of stories about strange events at this theatre. The saga of the U.S. premiere of Kenneth Anger’s Scorpio’s Rising would take a few thousand words to tell. I’m supposed to be working on my website instead of this, but if anyone has any comments about The Bleecker Street or memories of visits, I’d love to hear them. Regards, rudy franchi
This was my local movie theater when I was growing up on East 67th back in the late 40’s through the mid 50s. It was a shabby belly-run house that changed double bills twice a week (and I went everytime a new pair of movies was offered.) At some point it was purchased or leased by
Warner LeRoy and run as an off-Broadway theatre, with limited success. Ironically, he hired me, in the early 60s, to turn it back into a movie theater, featuring revivals and off-beat programming of independent films. I had worked with Dan Talbot at The New Yorker (running the Monday night film society there) and then been program director of The Bleecker Street Cinema (along with the late Marshall Lewis.) Little came of this scheme, mainly because Mr. LeRoy was a very difficult man to work with. He eventually turned the theater into the very successful Maxwell’s Plum, the start of Mr. Leroy’s restaurant career which included the still successful Tavern On The Green. Regards, rudy franchi
Here’s the correct link to the movie theater front stills: View link
They are putting in a Duane Reade. I got a call from one of the construction people asking me about a fountain they found behind a wall. He said it was rather “modern looking” which leads me to believe it dates back to the reconstruction that Raymond Hood carried out when it was Mori’s restaurant. He was a frequent customer and friend of the family. The Duane Reade people also wanted information about the site’s days as a movie theatre since they had heard it was an important venue. I told them it was responsible for introducing the auteur theory to the United States and that it was also one of the bastions of 60s American independent cinema. Regards, rudy franchi
This one really hurts. I grew up at 67th Street and York Avenue in the 1950s. Along with the belly-run double bills at the York Theatre, the higher end fare at the Beekman was a major factor in contributing to the fascination with film that led to a career in the movie business. One of my neighbors was the theatre’s projectionist and I have great memories of hours spent in the clinically clean booth of the theatre, learning the basics of the projectionist’s craft….an education that was invaluable when I went on to manage a series of movie theatres in New York. Regards, rudy franchi, Nostalgia Factory (www.nostalgia.com)
Yes, that was our first fumbling attempt to return this theater to its former days of non glory. I have such bad memories of that expierence that I had forgotten about the Lean film. Regards, rudy
Yes, Breathless was our house cat. I ran the Bleecker Street Cinema in the early 60s (along with the late Marshall Lewis.) I would sometimes get a buzz on the house phone from the projection booth with the terse message “cat’s on the screen.:” Breathless, a jet black smallish creature, would escape from the office area and start to climb the movie screen (which like most screens at the time had small holes in it, so it wouldn’t billow in a draft. ) I would go out on the small stage in front of the screen and grab the cat, who was usally about two thirds of the way up the screen. Regulars in the audience would root for the cat to get to the top , a goal I don’t think he ever reached.
That screen also comes into play with regard to Francois Truffaut. Indeed The Bleecker Street was his favorite theater in New York, along with most of the new wave directors (Godard, Resnias, Colpi were a few of our visitors. ) At that time, The Bleecker Street was the home of The NY Film Bulletin, a small magazine I published. We were the first to present translations from Cahiers du Cinema, the French magazine that was the source of Les Politiques Des Auteurs, known in the U.S. as the auteur theory. Most people remembrer The Bleecker Street as two theaters, but back then it was only one with 199 seats. (It had been an off-broadway theatre and 200 or more seats meant higher union wages.) The space that became the other theatre was a cavernous area that we used as an office. It was also an area that became a salon for the film literati of New York. Andy Sarris, Eugene Archer, Jonas Mekas and many others would just drop in and soon heated dicsussions would get underway. The auteur theory was quite controversial at the time and not at all accepted by most of the movie establishement. Pauline Kael was strongly against and was such other leading lights st Bosley Crowther and Dwight MacDonald. When Truffaut came to New York he would often stop by the Bleecker Street. I did one of the noted interviews with him on the auteur theory in the large backroom. We were fanatical about proper projection and proper screen ratio for the three screen formats. We had evolved a system of mattes that would work by pulleys so as to change from CinemaScope to standard ratio to what was known then as VistaVision (and is now known as wide-screen.). Since we always showed double bills, if they were in different formats, we would have to go backstage and re-arrange the mattes. On one of Truffaut’s visits were showinga CinemaScope film (actually it was Jules and Jim) and the second featurre was standard format. I excused myself, telling him I had to change the screen ratio. He asked if he could come and watch. He stepped behind the screen as I worked the pulleys and as soon as finished, the film started. Truffaut was fascinated by seeing the film projected through the screeen and onto this body also by wathcing the audience watch a film. He stayed back there for quite awhile. The result of that expierence can be seen in his next film, The Soft Skin, when the lead actor goes behind a movie screen.
The Bleecker Street was owned by film-maker Lionel Rogosin (On The Bowery, Come Back Africa.) It was because of his documentary on South Africa that the theater came into existence. He couldn’t find a theater interested in showing it on his terms, so being quite wealthy, he rented an off-broaway theater which for years had been showing Lorca’s Blood Wedding. He opened Come Back Africa to respectful but not great reviews. He dug in his heels and just kept showing it. Finally he realized he had a theatre that was in trouble. He wanted to leave the country to make a film so he hired Marshall and I to run it for him. We did so on the condition that we would only have to
shoe Come Back Africa no more than twice a year.
If I had the time, I could tell dozens of stories about strange events at this theatre. The saga of the U.S. premiere of Kenneth Anger’s Scorpio’s Rising would take a few thousand words to tell. I’m supposed to be working on my website instead of this, but if anyone has any comments about The Bleecker Street or memories of visits, I’d love to hear them. Regards, rudy franchi
This was my local movie theater when I was growing up on East 67th back in the late 40’s through the mid 50s. It was a shabby belly-run house that changed double bills twice a week (and I went everytime a new pair of movies was offered.) At some point it was purchased or leased by
Warner LeRoy and run as an off-Broadway theatre, with limited success. Ironically, he hired me, in the early 60s, to turn it back into a movie theater, featuring revivals and off-beat programming of independent films. I had worked with Dan Talbot at The New Yorker (running the Monday night film society there) and then been program director of The Bleecker Street Cinema (along with the late Marshall Lewis.) Little came of this scheme, mainly because Mr. LeRoy was a very difficult man to work with. He eventually turned the theater into the very successful Maxwell’s Plum, the start of Mr. Leroy’s restaurant career which included the still successful Tavern On The Green. Regards, rudy franchi