Too many memories to put down, so I’ll aim for the cherce ones… I was a projectionist at the Tiffany (and Vagabond) during the Golden Age (late 70s) when the beautiful Meryl Senatt was at the helm. She held us all together when Elvira Gulch blew in like some drunk Tasmanian Devil to wreak havoc on all of us. I was mercifully distanced from much of that by being in the projectionist booth, and when we all went out to Penny’s at 4am after the RHPS screenings, we’d share backrubs, and omelettes, and watch the sun come up. And for awhile, there would be readings of the latest adventures of Elvira Gulch penned by me in the booth, which would have us in stitches.
One nice thing I’ll say about TC was that he truly appreciated the experience of classic films and sought not just to show them, but to “present” them as an event. He took pleasure in giving films context, inviting film musical legends like Hermes Pan or Kathryn Grayson to the theatre for a screening of their movies. I was lucky to be a projectionist right at the end of an era, and over the years I met older professional projectionists who learned their craft from their dads. They had the knowledge and care for preservation, as well as the sensibility for the art of presentation that doesn’t exist now in the era of multiplexes and automated screenings. There’s nobody in the booth now, and if there is, they don’t give a rat’s ass about presentation. Oh well, there’s Disney doing it’s dog and pony show at the El Capitan, and while that evokes a time when movies were an event, it’s a museum piece.
Let me tell you what I’m talking about with presentation. At the Tiffany, I’m showing “Dr. Zhivago”. The film comes with an intermission, and at the beginning of part two, there’s a musical interlude before the visuals start. I discovered after one screening that I had the opportunity to do the following: after the music concludes, there is darkness and a quiet except for a faint rumble. I lowered the house lights and timed the opening of the curtains to reveal a small white dot on the center of the screen that got bigger and bigger, with the curtains just ahead of it. The sound of the rumble got louder, and the white space was getting larger, and just as the curtains are fully open, we’re blasting out of a dark tunnel in the Ural mountains and the track rumble crescendos as the whistle screams, and we’re into the second part of the film. That’s what I’m talking about.
I’ve got some wonderful Rocky Horror memories that I’ll share in another post, as this one got too long with that unexpected tangent. But thanks Meryl for letting me know about this site! As an actor, I think it’s so cool that the Actor’s Studio had use of the space.
Sean Hannon
actor • animator • activist • ass • (and former projectionist of the Tiffany Theater!)
Too many memories to put down, so I’ll aim for the cherce ones… I was a projectionist at the Tiffany (and Vagabond) during the Golden Age (late 70s) when the beautiful Meryl Senatt was at the helm. She held us all together when Elvira Gulch blew in like some drunk Tasmanian Devil to wreak havoc on all of us. I was mercifully distanced from much of that by being in the projectionist booth, and when we all went out to Penny’s at 4am after the RHPS screenings, we’d share backrubs, and omelettes, and watch the sun come up. And for awhile, there would be readings of the latest adventures of Elvira Gulch penned by me in the booth, which would have us in stitches.
One nice thing I’ll say about TC was that he truly appreciated the experience of classic films and sought not just to show them, but to “present” them as an event. He took pleasure in giving films context, inviting film musical legends like Hermes Pan or Kathryn Grayson to the theatre for a screening of their movies. I was lucky to be a projectionist right at the end of an era, and over the years I met older professional projectionists who learned their craft from their dads. They had the knowledge and care for preservation, as well as the sensibility for the art of presentation that doesn’t exist now in the era of multiplexes and automated screenings. There’s nobody in the booth now, and if there is, they don’t give a rat’s ass about presentation. Oh well, there’s Disney doing it’s dog and pony show at the El Capitan, and while that evokes a time when movies were an event, it’s a museum piece.
Let me tell you what I’m talking about with presentation. At the Tiffany, I’m showing “Dr. Zhivago”. The film comes with an intermission, and at the beginning of part two, there’s a musical interlude before the visuals start. I discovered after one screening that I had the opportunity to do the following: after the music concludes, there is darkness and a quiet except for a faint rumble. I lowered the house lights and timed the opening of the curtains to reveal a small white dot on the center of the screen that got bigger and bigger, with the curtains just ahead of it. The sound of the rumble got louder, and the white space was getting larger, and just as the curtains are fully open, we’re blasting out of a dark tunnel in the Ural mountains and the track rumble crescendos as the whistle screams, and we’re into the second part of the film. That’s what I’m talking about.
I’ve got some wonderful Rocky Horror memories that I’ll share in another post, as this one got too long with that unexpected tangent. But thanks Meryl for letting me know about this site! As an actor, I think it’s so cool that the Actor’s Studio had use of the space.
Sean Hannon
actor • animator • activist • ass • (and former projectionist of the Tiffany Theater!)