OP-ED: GARAN GREY BLOG
Since a very early age, I have been fascinated and passionate about the kind of showmanship, atmosphere, polish and finesse one used to find in real movie theatres.
At 10 years old, I could already recognize and appreciate the difference in presentation and quality from local theatres to those in big cities, where movies opened first. One day, this funny looking kid knocked on the door to a theatre manager's office, and proceeded to tell the man that he liked the theatre, that a couple of the footlights were burned out, and the curtain was hanging off the track at one end. Then he asked if there were any one-sheets or pressbooks leftover from the previous attraction. Unfazed, the man asked for a name and address. A few weeks later, a huge package arrived, and the kid made a friend for life.
Terms like Roadshow, Hard Ticket, and Marquee (the correct spelling of it) were already familiar, and I learned how rows and seats were lettered and numbered in a proper theatre. I once imagined a particular layout for a title on the marquee, drew it out on paper, gave it to a manager, and was enormously pleased when it went up, to see that it looked better than what they would have done. That may have been my first effort at adding what we now call "finesse points" to movie presentation. Okay, I was a weird little kid. Eventually some would call it "creative."
By my early teens, I was collecting movie pressbooks, and regularly reading issues of Boxoffice magazine - especially the issues with the MODERN THEATRE section, featuring articles and pictures of new or newly renovated movie theatres. One article in Boxoffice contained specific instructions for how to present a roadshow picture, emphasizing how important to it was to time curtain movement so you would never show the audience any part of a blank screen. I understood completely. Today, few even have a clue.
Shortly after reaching the legal age of employment, I spent a school vacation as a ticket taker in my favorite theatre. Later, I became a regular usher for hometown Saturday kiddie matinees. I was up on a ladder changing a huge marquee at 16, and halfway through High School I was a projectionist, putting a little extra showmanship into the local movie theatre. As an adult, I've worked and hung out at numerous theatres in NY and LA. I've sold tickets, torn tickets, swept tickets off the floor, popped popcorn, sold popcorn, swept popcorn off the floor, and often actually showed people to their seats.
When I was fairly new to LA, I heard about the Lucasfilm/THX Theatre Alignment Program, which was supposed to ensure top-notch presentation. I became one of their incognito theatre reporters, and covered a few films, including the Special Edition reissue of STAR WARS.
After sitting though the picture in two different rooms at the Beverly Center, I called in my report. Along with required details on the theatre's cleanliness, displays, starting time, trailers, and even the restrooms, I remarked that the prints looked especially grainy, even on the small screens, and that the color was off. (I had seen the picture on its 1977 opening day in NYC) There was an icy pause on the other end of the phone. "Mr. Lucas approved those prints." (all 3500 prints, I wondered, or just the 50 or so showing around LA?) "Well, they look like crap" i said. For some reason, they never called me back. Could it be that I had higher standards than "Mr. Lucas?"
On the staff of a legendary Hollywood movie palace that's now turned legit, I found I had far higher standards for operating a theatre than the manager, who was 20 years younger than me. Apparently, I have higher standards than most people running theatres today.
When most people go out of their way not to mention the elephant in the room, I'll walk over, stroke its trunk, feed it some peanuts and hop on for a ride. Can you imagine how far that's gotten me in Hollywood?
GG
