Correction: Lewis Wilson was the Batman and Douglas Croft was Robin in the 1943 chapter serial. (Robert Lowery starred in the ‘49 Columbia serial, along with nimble Johnny Duncan.) Shirley Patterson portrayed Bruce Wayne’s love interest Linda Page, and Charles (Flash Gordon’s Ming the Merciless) Middleton played Colton, a uranium miner. The DVD is currently available, but some wartime racial slurs against the Japanese may have been edited, as Columbia is now owned by Sony.
Although I passed by the 8th St. Playhouse many times in my Greenwich Village days of the 1960s, I had occasion to enjoy a novel event there only once, and that story deserves a bit of background.
Brooklyn’s Peerless Theater under the old el on Myrtle Ave. was really good at booking those old Columbia and Republic serials for us kids and our Saturday matinees. In 1953, an entire decade after it had made its wartime debut, was the very first “Batman” serial with Robert Lowery (the Batman), Lewis Croft (Robin) and J. Carroll Naish (the evil but campy Prince Tito Daka of the empire of Japan – Boo! Hiss!) I’d caught most of the 15 chapters, so when Batman got slugged and placed in a wooden box in Chapter 14, I knew I couldn’t wait to find out how he got out before being eaten by MoJo MoJo and Sako Sako (Daka’s pet alligators) in the concluding episode.
At high noon the following Saturday, I was headed out the door with my 20 cents admission in hand when I was collared by my mom. Where was I going? To see the conclusion of the Batman serial. “You’re not going anywhere. Go look in the bathroom mirror.” OK, so I had some spots on my face. Big deal. Mom said, “I’m not going to be responsible for infecting 400 neighborhood kids because of your chicken pox.”
And not one of my pals would ever reveal the ending to me!
Flash forward 13 years. The TV Batman show is all the rage in ‘66, so the wizard programmers at 8th St. Playhouse decide to do their version of a tie-in and booked the original 1943 print for one weekend only, all 420 minutes of it, complete with recaps and coming attractions. I was dizzy. I took a date who endured my revelry in finding out how it finally ended after all that time. I knew! I was more than pleased! But I only got a handshake instead of a kiss from my date, never to go beyond this one-and-only trip to a great Greenwich Village icon.
Radio City Music hall, a Grand Dame of design, lighting, function and opulence, home to so many G-rated motion pictures, is perhaps the most impressive theater I have – or ever will have – experienced in my lifetime.
In 1962, with neighborhood date in tow, I was literally bowled over by its size and decor. We weren’t in Brooklyn anymore, Toto. Our feet sank into the plush carpet. We saw “That Touch of Mink” and a stage show with the Rockettes, doing their finest imitations of a Busby Berkeley-inspired routine. Two years later, I returned to see “The World of Henry Orient.” But from 1971-73, I passed RCMH daily to and from work in Rockefeller Center. More or less, I took it for granted. 20/20 hindsight. Ouch.
Big thanks to some folks who researched what played and when, and then shared that info back in 2004: Ron 3853, William, Brucec and Bill Huelbig. Your combined work showed me clearly what I’d missed over the years.
Close your eyes and mentally revisit the scene in “Radio Days” when the aunt took the young Woody Allen character to NYC and to a show at RCMH. Conjure up the look of wonder in that kid’s eyes and on his face, and you’ll know, even vicariously, the wonder and magic of this great theater.
To Warren, Bway and Lost Memory: I managed to enter the Cumberland Theatre on 6/22, just prior to the massive crash. I expect that it will appear by tomorrow under the “Newest Theaters” section, as I have a fairly long post to share at that time.
To ‘Tonino: No link for that trolley ride through Ridgewood into Richmond Hill, but the (mostly) color DVD (“Brooklyn Trolleys, Vol. 1”) is available through Alan I. Zelazo, (“subwayal”), in Morris Plains, NJ. Go to eBay, type in “Trolley DVD” and search. That’ll bring up at least 1-2 of his gems, and then you can view all items by selecting his seller’s link. Another one you may want to look for is the “Myrtle Ave. El,” one of my faves. Hope this info helps.
At some point or another, I think all of these played at the Astoria.
If you are ever brave enough to survive one additional viewing of “The Neanderthal Man,” pay close attention to the interior of Shayne’s house. Set high up in the beautiful Sierra, the exterior looks exactly as it should. The wall outside the basement lab, however, is made of brick. (BRICK!?!) Yep, brick. And I suspect it was borrowed from the Universal set for “Abbott & Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde.” The dates of the two movies also indicate it may be one and the same brick wall.
Now if we could only be sure of who was responsible for finding that awful stock footage of the sabre-toothed tiger. (Gad, even “The Killer Shrews” had better fangs. Dogs playing 100-lb. rodents. Hmmmm. Could catch on. TV sitcom.)
Here’s an additional pair of duds which never reached DVD. Yet.
“How To Make a Monster” (‘58) – Featured another guy who was everywhere, Morris Ankrum, especially as an army general. (He’s the one who was tossed out of the hovering Harryhausen disc in “Earth vs. the Flying Saucers.”)
“The Giant Claw” (‘57) – starring a hapless and lackluster Jeff Morrow. I told my daughter Kris after we watched the VHS version that the Claw was later painted a bright yellow and renamed Big Bird. She was young and gullible enough to buy it.
A final postscript (for now): Finally jotted down the director’s name for “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” and “Half Human” – Inoshiro Honda, forever immortalized as the name of one of their best-selling import cars…
Shayne was also a doctor-up-to-no-good in “The Indestructible Man” (1956) who brought Butcher Benson (Lon Chaney, Jr.) back from the dead after he’d been executed. Met him once at the San Diego ComiCon back in the early ‘80s, perhaps 1984 or '85. He was wheelchair-bound, a former shell of the man we remember, and accompanied by his devoted wife. She told me privately that he spent his days at home signing as many 8x10 photos as he was able, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to do it for fans once he crossed over to that Big Box Office in the Sky. Class guy.
As for the aforementioned female neanderthal, I thought my daughter (then age 11) would pass out from laughing so hard when she saw my bootleg tape. It was hysterical!
Today, in a short 23-minute B&W video tape that I received from MAHP, the former Palace Theatre in South Bend lived on again in 1927 for a few seconds.
Mid-American Historical Preservation Foundation, located in Whiting, IN, has been issuing a few gems of late on DVD and video. Some deal with railroads, interurbans and trolleys (some of my passions, which include Samuel Insull’s former empire), but theaters occasionally pop up as they existed then in all their glory.
For those interested, I’d won my copy on eBay for a mere $8.99, very reasonable for Time Machine rates. For more info, contact Betty at:
You can get “Blood Farmers” on DVD for Christmas, guys.
Couldn’t agree more with EdSolero as to its ranking in history. LMAO!
“Not of This Earth” – a diamond in the rough, Peter. Paul Birch and Beverly Garland, later to be re-made with former porn star Tracy Lords. I saw it originally at the Peerless in Brooklyn, never dreaming that one day I would actually own a marketed (gasp!) bootleg VHS copy of it.
So, an open question to all those entrepreneurs of schlockdom out there in CT Land:
When will we peasants ever get to purchase studio-issued DVD copies of…
“GOG” (‘54) co-starring his twin brother Magog, Richard Egan, Constance (“Fatass”) Dowling, Herbert Marshall, the spin test machine, the mirror in the desert, the frozen monkey, NOVAC and all this in blazing EastmanColor!)
“Dr. Cyclops” (‘40) – also in color
“The Neanderthal Man” (‘53) – with Robert Shayne (TV Superman’s Inspector Henderson)
“The Beast With 1,000,000 Eyes” (‘53) – One of Roger Corman’s early cheapies, again with Paul Birch acting opposite the alien invader, played by none other than a coffee percolator!
“The Incredible Shrinking Man” (‘57 or '58)– Richard Matheson’s thoughtful script about “Short People,” predating Randy Newman’s song by 2 whole decades!
“The Black Sleep” (‘55) – with everyone from John Carradine to Tor Johnson (but Whit Bissell never managed to make the cut on this one!)
“The Mole People” (‘56) – with another ubiquitous guy, John Agar
“Half Human” (‘57) – Carradine takes on the Japanese stars of “Godzilla”
Hey, Peter, yer back! It seems like years with this facocktah site being down for days with no advance warning. I had just left you a message on the RKO Bushwick page (re the Astoria page) early on 6/22, and then we all crashed and burned. LOL!
We’ll be putting out a book of all Greg’s interviews, articles and reviews (1997-2005) at some point, but his publisher and I haven’t gotten it past the planning stages yet. (We have requested that any and all profits go to the film school scholarhip in his name here at SDSU, where I’m presently typing this. Kids from 6th grade thru senior year of h.s. will be eligible, based on their responses to 2 essay questions: What attracts you to the medium of film? And how do you view social justice issues in relation to film? Geared to make ‘em think. My ex and I will have some input regarding their answers.) Any other questions I can eventually answer elsewhere without the risk of being O/T here.
On Page 85 of Warren W. Wing’s book, “To Seattle By Trolley” (2nd printing, 1985), there is a panoramic shot of 5th and Westlake that features the “new” Orpheum Theatre as a centerpiece. Outstanding photography really captures the look and feel of that part of Seattle in the late 1920s!
I lack the technical capabilities to scan and post that photo, so it is my hope that someone out there with access to Wing’s book can get it up here for all to enjoy. Good luck!
Thx, but no, Peter. My son constantly used imdb and similar sites, but I never got involved with any of them, except for Hollywood Bitchslap and Rotten Tomatoes, which had over 800 of his reviews. Nah, I was just curious about what the guys here might’ve thought. Upon some additional reflection, my guess is that a 3:00 song probably would not have fit over any closing credits, and placed elsewhere within the movie, even piecemeal, Pitney’s song would’ve given away too much storyline. In retrospect, I see that Ford made a wise choice, and I humbly withdraw the question.
BrooklynJim
commented about
#on
Jun 24, 2006 at 11:48 am
Madstone, as noted previously by Chuck 1231, reverted to Mann in Hazard Center in ‘04. In the Arts Section of last Sunday’s S.D. Union-Tribune, it appears that the small UltraStar chain has now acquired these Hazard Center theaters near Mission Valley.
One movie made late in the 1990s cast a most memorable and eerie glow on the Sutton Theater itself. In the late reels of “The Devil’s Advocate,” lawyer Keanu Reeves leaves the hospital following his wife’s suicide and heads to the offices of law firm president John Milton (Pacino) to confront him. The scene, shot with an overhead crane, with traffic cordoned off out of view by the NYPD, and coupled with a soundtrack piece that deserved an Academy Award all by itself, features the Sutton, late in the afternoon, its former grandeur long behind it, and looking as forlorn and as desolate as Reeves' character. Superb cinematography!
Today’s lesson is on how to hype a lousy sci-fi motion piction…
In pre-Mothra days, (along with “Godzilla vs. Sonny Liston” and other masterpieces from Hell), it was a much simpler world. Fresh from the devastating fallout and effects of WWII, Japanese movie directors could re-release their shining products in America if they were smart enough to have someone here splice in “known” actors, such as Raymond Burr (“Godzilla: King of the Monsters”) and John Carradine (“Half Human”).
In 1959, we ragamuffins began to learn about the evils of hype.
Television ad space was used by movie companies to plug upcoming releases. One such movie was “The Mysterians.” In that 30-second spot, repeated endlessly, we became like lemmings to the proverbial cliff, only in this case, to our local bijou. At the time, mine was the RKO Bushwick.
I can relate one positive at this point: the film was in color, perhaps the first for Japanese movie makers. Postive comments end here, as well. Our expectations had been driven to new heights, but we were provided the pits of drekdom. If there were any high points to the movie, and I concede several, each of those high points was featured in the TV trailer, all 30 (or 60) seconds of ‘em. Never, before or since, have I sensed crowd violence about to erupt upon leaving a theater. We kids were absolutely livid, having been sold a bill of goods by manipulative purveyors of schlock.
It was a most painful lesson: first, in the wallet department – we couldn’t get our money back. Unheard of. Second, in the psychological department – we were scammed, we’d been had, and we KNEW IT! For years, if anyone was callous or stupid enough to mention “The Mysterians” in polite trivial conversation, you could immediately feel collective blood pressure in the room begin to escalate. I’m not kidding.
Don’t ask me why, but I recently purchased a DVD copy of “The Mysterians” (in widescreen, no less!) during my stay in NY. Perhaps I wanted to see if it had remained as bad as I remembered. Dunno if I had still blocked it mentally after all these years, but I neglected to bring it back with me to CA. It’s still laying around, unwrapped, in my Brooklyn casa, and I suspect that there’s some kind of moral in all of this…
[Aside to PKoch: Jump over to the Astoria and see if you recall the third film I described on the midnight triple bill. Reply there if you do…LOL! Thx!]
Good work and F-A-S-T, Warren! And that architecture in your pic is extremely typical of its period, nothing like the concrete and cinder block I’d described.
And robbie dupree, regarding your 5/24 post about dish night, you must run – not walk – to your favorite library to snag a copy of Jean Shepherd’s book, “In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash,” and read the story entitled “Leopold Doppler and the Great Orpheum Gravy Boat Riot.” You will laugh until you wheeze and the tears roll. “I guarantee it.” – Broadway Joe Namath, January, 1969
Nah, no green liquid, PK. And too cold for clothes removal. The one you’re referencing may have been in the 1959 color import, “The Mysterians,” something I’ll be posting about very soon on the RKO Bushwick page. (Lookit! My own Coming Attractions! Sheesh!) Anyway, please remind me if it doesn’t go up in a week or so.
“Half Human” had to do with the Abominable Snowman, or something like that. Avalanches. Cute Japanese wenches. Wooden acting. Loud snoring…
Never saw “The Manster” that I recall, but you’ve gotta see “MANT” within the John Goodman flick, “Matinee.” I KNOW yer gonna luvit!!! Rent it this weekend and let them memories roll…
“D-O-O-O-CTOR MA-AR-ARVIN!” – Ah, hark! The dulcet tones of Paul Frees, also a well-presented voice on “The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle” TV series. (He was Boris, among others.)
I suspect the mini-saucer was made of lead. The color was a flat silver, and the top actually revolved. It was motorless, however. Harryhausen’s stop-action process gave it the spin. It photographed beautifully for the Big Screen in glorious B&W.
Tech Sgt. Leonard Nimoy, as he walks to the teletype machine and sez to the cutie: “It’s T.S. stuff – Top Secret.”
“T.S.” is “Top Secret?” Wasn’t in my part of Brooklyn.
In “Beast,” one of the scariest moments for me was fire destroying the roller coaster in Coney Island! “NOOOO!!!” The other was watching the soldiers drop to the ground from the wounded beast’s infected blood. The funniest was his coming ashore in lower Manhattan’s Fulton Fish Market. Loved those guys' expressions!
If you get a chance, rent “Half Human.” It’s a likeable, pleasant enough bomb, and like “Godzilla” (same Japanese director), the film also features the same three Japanese lead actors/actress from “Godzilla, King of the Monsters.” They also add the likes of John Carradine, as they did with Raymond Burr, to woo U.S. audiences. (After Hiroshima and Nagasaki, why would they even bother? They’d get even in years to come by selling us their cars, tvs, stereos, etc.)
“Get the antennae! Get the OTHER antenna! He’s helpless without it!” – Professor Edmund Gwenn to Nevada Trooper James Whitmore in the desert
Talking about HEAVY, you’re replying to the guy who, at last year’s San Diego ComiCon, held is his hands one of the three prototype saucers Ray Harryhausen created for “Earth Vs. the Flying Saucers.” For only nine inches across, it carried some serious weight!
BTW, got to meet both Rays that day. The one mentioned above is a 100% class gentleman, and his longtime friend is a hoot in his own way. Bradbury spotted and loved my Pacific Electric Red Car T-Shirt. He then turned to his young biographer, rapped him on the arm to get his attention, saying, “See? That’s the car I’m always telling you about!” The young man calmly replied, “I know. I’ve seen pictures.” Ray immediately shot back, stinging him with, “SEEN THEM? By God, you had to RIDE ‘em like I did? KIDS! Harummmph! Too funny.
For a young guy, ya did a lot of catchin' up. I’m very impressed, Peter! “The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms” was one of my earliest faves. Bradbury! Harryhausen! (Check out their superb interviews on the WB DVD.) My mom wouldn’t let me see it that summer, that it would give me nightmares, but when I explained my nightmares had been pretty tame, she relented and I got to see it on the next go-‘round at the Peerless. But she totally freaked out the following year when her movie-addicted first-born kept clammoring madly for “THEM!” (To this day, I immediately check the horizon if I should hear a squeaky fan belt in the distance growing ever louder…)
Hey, if you check out today’s comments on the Loew’s Kameo page, do ya think it’s possible to hold…
pausing here to catch breath
…a WHIT BISSELL FILM FESTIVAL in TriBeCa later this year? (Tor Johnson remains my alternate suggestion.)
[i still say 104th St. probably clobbered 102nd St. in softball.]
Somewhere in my transit books, whether the Arcadia series or one by Fred Kramer, I have several excellent B&W shots of the Parthenon’s exterior and marquee. The trick is to figure out if they are here in CA or back in Brooklyn. Will inform and/or try to get them posted when I eventually track ‘em down, dahlink. LOL!
(Don’t forget Sonny Tufts, Victor Jory and their “Catwomen of the Moon” from ‘53. Absolutely dreadful. So bad I can’t even get you a good quote!)
One disappointment regarding a film I saw at the Embassy in 1962, “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence:” The late Gene Pitney had a monster hit with that song, but Ford was adamant and never allowed it to be incorporated into his film. Far be it from the likes of me to tell John what he should or shouldn’t do, film-wise, but IMHO, it probably would have worked very well over the closing credits. I have the song on CD and the movie on DVD. (Life doesn’t get better than this…)
Any thoughts on this out there about this Ford-Pitney decision?
Correction: Lewis Wilson was the Batman and Douglas Croft was Robin in the 1943 chapter serial. (Robert Lowery starred in the ‘49 Columbia serial, along with nimble Johnny Duncan.) Shirley Patterson portrayed Bruce Wayne’s love interest Linda Page, and Charles (Flash Gordon’s Ming the Merciless) Middleton played Colton, a uranium miner. The DVD is currently available, but some wartime racial slurs against the Japanese may have been edited, as Columbia is now owned by Sony.
Although I passed by the 8th St. Playhouse many times in my Greenwich Village days of the 1960s, I had occasion to enjoy a novel event there only once, and that story deserves a bit of background.
Brooklyn’s Peerless Theater under the old el on Myrtle Ave. was really good at booking those old Columbia and Republic serials for us kids and our Saturday matinees. In 1953, an entire decade after it had made its wartime debut, was the very first “Batman” serial with Robert Lowery (the Batman), Lewis Croft (Robin) and J. Carroll Naish (the evil but campy Prince Tito Daka of the empire of Japan – Boo! Hiss!) I’d caught most of the 15 chapters, so when Batman got slugged and placed in a wooden box in Chapter 14, I knew I couldn’t wait to find out how he got out before being eaten by MoJo MoJo and Sako Sako (Daka’s pet alligators) in the concluding episode.
At high noon the following Saturday, I was headed out the door with my 20 cents admission in hand when I was collared by my mom. Where was I going? To see the conclusion of the Batman serial. “You’re not going anywhere. Go look in the bathroom mirror.” OK, so I had some spots on my face. Big deal. Mom said, “I’m not going to be responsible for infecting 400 neighborhood kids because of your chicken pox.”
And not one of my pals would ever reveal the ending to me!
Flash forward 13 years. The TV Batman show is all the rage in ‘66, so the wizard programmers at 8th St. Playhouse decide to do their version of a tie-in and booked the original 1943 print for one weekend only, all 420 minutes of it, complete with recaps and coming attractions. I was dizzy. I took a date who endured my revelry in finding out how it finally ended after all that time. I knew! I was more than pleased! But I only got a handshake instead of a kiss from my date, never to go beyond this one-and-only trip to a great Greenwich Village icon.
Radio City Music hall, a Grand Dame of design, lighting, function and opulence, home to so many G-rated motion pictures, is perhaps the most impressive theater I have – or ever will have – experienced in my lifetime.
In 1962, with neighborhood date in tow, I was literally bowled over by its size and decor. We weren’t in Brooklyn anymore, Toto. Our feet sank into the plush carpet. We saw “That Touch of Mink” and a stage show with the Rockettes, doing their finest imitations of a Busby Berkeley-inspired routine. Two years later, I returned to see “The World of Henry Orient.” But from 1971-73, I passed RCMH daily to and from work in Rockefeller Center. More or less, I took it for granted. 20/20 hindsight. Ouch.
Big thanks to some folks who researched what played and when, and then shared that info back in 2004: Ron 3853, William, Brucec and Bill Huelbig. Your combined work showed me clearly what I’d missed over the years.
Close your eyes and mentally revisit the scene in “Radio Days” when the aunt took the young Woody Allen character to NYC and to a show at RCMH. Conjure up the look of wonder in that kid’s eyes and on his face, and you’ll know, even vicariously, the wonder and magic of this great theater.
To Warren, Bway and Lost Memory: I managed to enter the Cumberland Theatre on 6/22, just prior to the massive crash. I expect that it will appear by tomorrow under the “Newest Theaters” section, as I have a fairly long post to share at that time.
To ‘Tonino: No link for that trolley ride through Ridgewood into Richmond Hill, but the (mostly) color DVD (“Brooklyn Trolleys, Vol. 1”) is available through Alan I. Zelazo, (“subwayal”), in Morris Plains, NJ. Go to eBay, type in “Trolley DVD” and search. That’ll bring up at least 1-2 of his gems, and then you can view all items by selecting his seller’s link. Another one you may want to look for is the “Myrtle Ave. El,” one of my faves. Hope this info helps.
NON-DVD BOMBS, Part 2 A.D. (After Dinner)
At some point or another, I think all of these played at the Astoria.
If you are ever brave enough to survive one additional viewing of “The Neanderthal Man,” pay close attention to the interior of Shayne’s house. Set high up in the beautiful Sierra, the exterior looks exactly as it should. The wall outside the basement lab, however, is made of brick. (BRICK!?!) Yep, brick. And I suspect it was borrowed from the Universal set for “Abbott & Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde.” The dates of the two movies also indicate it may be one and the same brick wall.
Now if we could only be sure of who was responsible for finding that awful stock footage of the sabre-toothed tiger. (Gad, even “The Killer Shrews” had better fangs. Dogs playing 100-lb. rodents. Hmmmm. Could catch on. TV sitcom.)
Here’s an additional pair of duds which never reached DVD. Yet.
“How To Make a Monster” (‘58) – Featured another guy who was everywhere, Morris Ankrum, especially as an army general. (He’s the one who was tossed out of the hovering Harryhausen disc in “Earth vs. the Flying Saucers.”)
“The Giant Claw” (‘57) – starring a hapless and lackluster Jeff Morrow. I told my daughter Kris after we watched the VHS version that the Claw was later painted a bright yellow and renamed Big Bird. She was young and gullible enough to buy it.
A final postscript (for now): Finally jotted down the director’s name for “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” and “Half Human” – Inoshiro Honda, forever immortalized as the name of one of their best-selling import cars…
Shayne was also a doctor-up-to-no-good in “The Indestructible Man” (1956) who brought Butcher Benson (Lon Chaney, Jr.) back from the dead after he’d been executed. Met him once at the San Diego ComiCon back in the early ‘80s, perhaps 1984 or '85. He was wheelchair-bound, a former shell of the man we remember, and accompanied by his devoted wife. She told me privately that he spent his days at home signing as many 8x10 photos as he was able, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to do it for fans once he crossed over to that Big Box Office in the Sky. Class guy.
As for the aforementioned female neanderthal, I thought my daughter (then age 11) would pass out from laughing so hard when she saw my bootleg tape. It was hysterical!
Holy land, indeed!
Today, in a short 23-minute B&W video tape that I received from MAHP, the former Palace Theatre in South Bend lived on again in 1927 for a few seconds.
Mid-American Historical Preservation Foundation, located in Whiting, IN, has been issuing a few gems of late on DVD and video. Some deal with railroads, interurbans and trolleys (some of my passions, which include Samuel Insull’s former empire), but theaters occasionally pop up as they existed then in all their glory.
For those interested, I’d won my copy on eBay for a mere $8.99, very reasonable for Time Machine rates. For more info, contact Betty at:
www.mahpfoundation.org
Excellent story, ErikH. It made my day. We, as NYers (or former NYers) never really know when we’ll cross over the line into TinselTown territory!
You can get “Blood Farmers” on DVD for Christmas, guys.
Couldn’t agree more with EdSolero as to its ranking in history. LMAO!
“Not of This Earth” – a diamond in the rough, Peter. Paul Birch and Beverly Garland, later to be re-made with former porn star Tracy Lords. I saw it originally at the Peerless in Brooklyn, never dreaming that one day I would actually own a marketed (gasp!) bootleg VHS copy of it.
So, an open question to all those entrepreneurs of schlockdom out there in CT Land:
When will we peasants ever get to purchase studio-issued DVD copies of…
“GOG” (‘54) co-starring his twin brother Magog, Richard Egan, Constance (“Fatass”) Dowling, Herbert Marshall, the spin test machine, the mirror in the desert, the frozen monkey, NOVAC and all this in blazing EastmanColor!)
“Dr. Cyclops” (‘40) – also in color
“The Neanderthal Man” (‘53) – with Robert Shayne (TV Superman’s Inspector Henderson)
“The Beast With 1,000,000 Eyes” (‘53) – One of Roger Corman’s early cheapies, again with Paul Birch acting opposite the alien invader, played by none other than a coffee percolator!
“The Incredible Shrinking Man” (‘57 or '58)– Richard Matheson’s thoughtful script about “Short People,” predating Randy Newman’s song by 2 whole decades!
“The Black Sleep” (‘55) – with everyone from John Carradine to Tor Johnson (but Whit Bissell never managed to make the cut on this one!)
“The Mole People” (‘56) – with another ubiquitous guy, John Agar
“Half Human” (‘57) – Carradine takes on the Japanese stars of “Godzilla”
????????
And with your help, many more titles to follow…
Hey, Peter, yer back! It seems like years with this facocktah site being down for days with no advance warning. I had just left you a message on the RKO Bushwick page (re the Astoria page) early on 6/22, and then we all crashed and burned. LOL!
We’ll be putting out a book of all Greg’s interviews, articles and reviews (1997-2005) at some point, but his publisher and I haven’t gotten it past the planning stages yet. (We have requested that any and all profits go to the film school scholarhip in his name here at SDSU, where I’m presently typing this. Kids from 6th grade thru senior year of h.s. will be eligible, based on their responses to 2 essay questions: What attracts you to the medium of film? And how do you view social justice issues in relation to film? Geared to make ‘em think. My ex and I will have some input regarding their answers.) Any other questions I can eventually answer elsewhere without the risk of being O/T here.
Error: the 2nd printing was out in 1995. (The book was originally published in 1988.)
On Page 85 of Warren W. Wing’s book, “To Seattle By Trolley” (2nd printing, 1985), there is a panoramic shot of 5th and Westlake that features the “new” Orpheum Theatre as a centerpiece. Outstanding photography really captures the look and feel of that part of Seattle in the late 1920s!
I lack the technical capabilities to scan and post that photo, so it is my hope that someone out there with access to Wing’s book can get it up here for all to enjoy. Good luck!
Thx, but no, Peter. My son constantly used imdb and similar sites, but I never got involved with any of them, except for Hollywood Bitchslap and Rotten Tomatoes, which had over 800 of his reviews. Nah, I was just curious about what the guys here might’ve thought. Upon some additional reflection, my guess is that a 3:00 song probably would not have fit over any closing credits, and placed elsewhere within the movie, even piecemeal, Pitney’s song would’ve given away too much storyline. In retrospect, I see that Ford made a wise choice, and I humbly withdraw the question.
Madstone, as noted previously by Chuck 1231, reverted to Mann in Hazard Center in ‘04. In the Arts Section of last Sunday’s S.D. Union-Tribune, it appears that the small UltraStar chain has now acquired these Hazard Center theaters near Mission Valley.
That was Paul Newman & ROBERT REDFORD. Ay!!!
One movie made late in the 1990s cast a most memorable and eerie glow on the Sutton Theater itself. In the late reels of “The Devil’s Advocate,” lawyer Keanu Reeves leaves the hospital following his wife’s suicide and heads to the offices of law firm president John Milton (Pacino) to confront him. The scene, shot with an overhead crane, with traffic cordoned off out of view by the NYPD, and coupled with a soundtrack piece that deserved an Academy Award all by itself, features the Sutton, late in the afternoon, its former grandeur long behind it, and looking as forlorn and as desolate as Reeves' character. Superb cinematography!
Today’s lesson is on how to hype a lousy sci-fi motion piction…
In pre-Mothra days, (along with “Godzilla vs. Sonny Liston” and other masterpieces from Hell), it was a much simpler world. Fresh from the devastating fallout and effects of WWII, Japanese movie directors could re-release their shining products in America if they were smart enough to have someone here splice in “known” actors, such as Raymond Burr (“Godzilla: King of the Monsters”) and John Carradine (“Half Human”).
In 1959, we ragamuffins began to learn about the evils of hype.
Television ad space was used by movie companies to plug upcoming releases. One such movie was “The Mysterians.” In that 30-second spot, repeated endlessly, we became like lemmings to the proverbial cliff, only in this case, to our local bijou. At the time, mine was the RKO Bushwick.
I can relate one positive at this point: the film was in color, perhaps the first for Japanese movie makers. Postive comments end here, as well. Our expectations had been driven to new heights, but we were provided the pits of drekdom. If there were any high points to the movie, and I concede several, each of those high points was featured in the TV trailer, all 30 (or 60) seconds of ‘em. Never, before or since, have I sensed crowd violence about to erupt upon leaving a theater. We kids were absolutely livid, having been sold a bill of goods by manipulative purveyors of schlock.
It was a most painful lesson: first, in the wallet department – we couldn’t get our money back. Unheard of. Second, in the psychological department – we were scammed, we’d been had, and we KNEW IT! For years, if anyone was callous or stupid enough to mention “The Mysterians” in polite trivial conversation, you could immediately feel collective blood pressure in the room begin to escalate. I’m not kidding.
Don’t ask me why, but I recently purchased a DVD copy of “The Mysterians” (in widescreen, no less!) during my stay in NY. Perhaps I wanted to see if it had remained as bad as I remembered. Dunno if I had still blocked it mentally after all these years, but I neglected to bring it back with me to CA. It’s still laying around, unwrapped, in my Brooklyn casa, and I suspect that there’s some kind of moral in all of this…
[Aside to PKoch: Jump over to the Astoria and see if you recall the third film I described on the midnight triple bill. Reply there if you do…LOL! Thx!]
Good work and F-A-S-T, Warren! And that architecture in your pic is extremely typical of its period, nothing like the concrete and cinder block I’d described.
And robbie dupree, regarding your 5/24 post about dish night, you must run – not walk – to your favorite library to snag a copy of Jean Shepherd’s book, “In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash,” and read the story entitled “Leopold Doppler and the Great Orpheum Gravy Boat Riot.” You will laugh until you wheeze and the tears roll. “I guarantee it.” – Broadway Joe Namath, January, 1969
Nah, no green liquid, PK. And too cold for clothes removal. The one you’re referencing may have been in the 1959 color import, “The Mysterians,” something I’ll be posting about very soon on the RKO Bushwick page. (Lookit! My own Coming Attractions! Sheesh!) Anyway, please remind me if it doesn’t go up in a week or so.
“Half Human” had to do with the Abominable Snowman, or something like that. Avalanches. Cute Japanese wenches. Wooden acting. Loud snoring…
Never saw “The Manster” that I recall, but you’ve gotta see “MANT” within the John Goodman flick, “Matinee.” I KNOW yer gonna luvit!!! Rent it this weekend and let them memories roll…
“D-O-O-O-CTOR MA-AR-ARVIN!” – Ah, hark! The dulcet tones of Paul Frees, also a well-presented voice on “The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle” TV series. (He was Boris, among others.)
I suspect the mini-saucer was made of lead. The color was a flat silver, and the top actually revolved. It was motorless, however. Harryhausen’s stop-action process gave it the spin. It photographed beautifully for the Big Screen in glorious B&W.
Tech Sgt. Leonard Nimoy, as he walks to the teletype machine and sez to the cutie: “It’s T.S. stuff – Top Secret.”
“T.S.” is “Top Secret?” Wasn’t in my part of Brooklyn.
In “Beast,” one of the scariest moments for me was fire destroying the roller coaster in Coney Island! “NOOOO!!!” The other was watching the soldiers drop to the ground from the wounded beast’s infected blood. The funniest was his coming ashore in lower Manhattan’s Fulton Fish Market. Loved those guys' expressions!
If you get a chance, rent “Half Human.” It’s a likeable, pleasant enough bomb, and like “Godzilla” (same Japanese director), the film also features the same three Japanese lead actors/actress from “Godzilla, King of the Monsters.” They also add the likes of John Carradine, as they did with Raymond Burr, to woo U.S. audiences. (After Hiroshima and Nagasaki, why would they even bother? They’d get even in years to come by selling us their cars, tvs, stereos, etc.)
“Get the antennae! Get the OTHER antenna! He’s helpless without it!” – Professor Edmund Gwenn to Nevada Trooper James Whitmore in the desert
Talking about HEAVY, you’re replying to the guy who, at last year’s San Diego ComiCon, held is his hands one of the three prototype saucers Ray Harryhausen created for “Earth Vs. the Flying Saucers.” For only nine inches across, it carried some serious weight!
BTW, got to meet both Rays that day. The one mentioned above is a 100% class gentleman, and his longtime friend is a hoot in his own way. Bradbury spotted and loved my Pacific Electric Red Car T-Shirt. He then turned to his young biographer, rapped him on the arm to get his attention, saying, “See? That’s the car I’m always telling you about!” The young man calmly replied, “I know. I’ve seen pictures.” Ray immediately shot back, stinging him with, “SEEN THEM? By God, you had to RIDE ‘em like I did? KIDS! Harummmph! Too funny.
For a young guy, ya did a lot of catchin' up. I’m very impressed, Peter! “The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms” was one of my earliest faves. Bradbury! Harryhausen! (Check out their superb interviews on the WB DVD.) My mom wouldn’t let me see it that summer, that it would give me nightmares, but when I explained my nightmares had been pretty tame, she relented and I got to see it on the next go-‘round at the Peerless. But she totally freaked out the following year when her movie-addicted first-born kept clammoring madly for “THEM!” (To this day, I immediately check the horizon if I should hear a squeaky fan belt in the distance growing ever louder…)
Hey, if you check out today’s comments on the Loew’s Kameo page, do ya think it’s possible to hold…
pausing here to catch breath
…a WHIT BISSELL FILM FESTIVAL in TriBeCa later this year? (Tor Johnson remains my alternate suggestion.)
[i still say 104th St. probably clobbered 102nd St. in softball.]
Somewhere in my transit books, whether the Arcadia series or one by Fred Kramer, I have several excellent B&W shots of the Parthenon’s exterior and marquee. The trick is to figure out if they are here in CA or back in Brooklyn. Will inform and/or try to get them posted when I eventually track ‘em down, dahlink. LOL!
(Don’t forget Sonny Tufts, Victor Jory and their “Catwomen of the Moon” from ‘53. Absolutely dreadful. So bad I can’t even get you a good quote!)
One disappointment regarding a film I saw at the Embassy in 1962, “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence:” The late Gene Pitney had a monster hit with that song, but Ford was adamant and never allowed it to be incorporated into his film. Far be it from the likes of me to tell John what he should or shouldn’t do, film-wise, but IMHO, it probably would have worked very well over the closing credits. I have the song on CD and the movie on DVD. (Life doesn’t get better than this…)
Any thoughts on this out there about this Ford-Pitney decision?
The real Orpheum Theater was located nearby at 578 Fulton St.