Cento Cedar Cinema

Grand opening ad from August 20th, 1965 can be found in the photo section.

Hi—Researcher working on a book about the Beatles, and trying to confirm a small fact about the Cento Cedar Cinema: does anyone on this thread know whether the theater showed ‘Let It Be’ in early June 1970? I realize this is a needle in the haystack request, but it is a crucial detail for this book I am helping to research. Many thanks.

Matt Giles

I was an habitue of the Orion a house away from the Cento Cedar. The theater was hand built by a German couple whose last name sounded like Deadlift. The husband operated the projector and the wife sold tickets from the candy counter. The theater was picketed by the union because the projectionist was not a dues paying member. When the couple would not knuckle under, goons from the union slashed seats and threw stink bombs at least once. All the man wanted to do is to show movies that were not 20th Century Fox or Warner Brothers. Really, the two of them put that theater together BY HAND! That was a time for foreign films. There were the Larkin and Music Hall. The former is now a porno house and the latter a church. Movie goers from those houses used to take their coffee drinks at the Orion before and after performances. Yes, and the fish and chips from Old Chelsea fried up by Kathy or Scotty. It was an interesting neighborhood with the Foreign Language Book Store right at the corner of Cedar Alley and Larkin.

Paul Kenney was an artist, sculptor and on maker living on Beulah street in the Haight, Ashbury district when I first met him in 1964. Richard Hongisto was a visitor, when Richard had just joined the S.F. police force. The love film and literature was our common bond. If any one film could most illustrate Paul’s love of cinema, “ The Saragossa manuscript ” would be the one. Any one who knew Paul, who might wish to converse, please call me in Montana at 406 207 4958. Always ready to nostagicate about the 60s. Nathan

Until 1972 my wife and I managed the theatre alone. At that time we sold the business and leased the building to the Buckleys.
Hans H. Hammann

Former theater-goers and curious old-timers of the Tenderloin cinematic haunts would be glad to know that although the old Cento Theater is gone, the building has remained in the loving care of an architecture firm (not a home) during the last 20-plus years since being acquired in 1988.

Although little of the original theater remains, interior renovations have transformed the artsy theater to a tasteful design studio. The owner maintains nostalgia for the building, respecting its humble, gloried historical past. It is an edifice where many ghosts and memories continue to linger within its quaint, but seismically improved, brick walls. It was not by accident that he chose to keep the remnants of the old projection room in the mezzanine above fairly intact, complete with the projection squares. I should know since I used to be an employee here for over 15 years now and used to peer out the project squares when relegated to organizing the archives in the former projection room.

While I don’t think I was born when this place was a theater, I have heard many stories. The door to this projection room is the only original remnant of a bygone era. Those who worked at the Cento Theatre’s projection room would be glad to know that the words “Home of the 50 second splice” still remain scrawled on that very door to the former projection room. There remain some memories too special to expunge.

Sadly, the popcorn concession did not survive the renovations, but the original bathroom locations remain, but have been transformed to be more modern and comfortable. The entrance has been relocated from the more modest, but still gritty Cedar Alley to the livelier and more colorful 1031 Post Street.

I’m so glad to read about this theater. For years I’ve wondered if it was a figment of my imagination. In 1965 or early 1966, my high school French teacher brought a bunch of us 15 year old French students, in a school bus, at night, on a field trip to this theater. We saw two French films— “Sundays and Cybelle” and “Shoot the Piano Player” (or is it “Don’t Shoot the Piano Player”). There was just one person working there and he stood behind a desk made out of a plank of wood (or something similar) to take our money. There was no snack bar—nothing to eat or drink. During the break between films, our teacher told us to go next door to a coffeehouse to get something to eat and drink. There was a huge block of inscense burning in the doorway before you walked in. When we went inside, there was a strange odor that none of us could identify. We assumed it was something that they were cooking so we decided that we were not going to order any food. The people inside looked at us like we dropped in from another planet and tried to get us out of there asap—-probably had something to do with that odor which I later identified the first time I went to a party where a joint was being passed around. The menue was really wierd- at least for a 15 year old—and the only thing they had for a high school kid to drink was hot apple cider—which we drank outside due to the foul odor and mean looking people. All of this was a great adventure and I fell in love with “Sundays and Cybelle”. Does anyone know anything about that coffeehouse?

When I was a teenager in 1969, they used to show The Saragossa Manuscript quite often. I must have seen it a dozen times!

I attended the Cedar and I also don’t remember any rear projection. Jack Tillmany’s Richelieu did, however, and it was a few blocks away, so people may have confused it.

The last operator of the Cedar was one of the owners of Express Auto Parts, a fellow who always wanted to operate a movie theater. He tried his damnedest, even experimenting with a singles movie night. The problem was what with the rent and the earthquake insurance, and whatnot, the Cedar would have to sell 265 seats a night to break even. The theater had only 250 seats, so it would literally have to be packed for two showings each night to make a profit.

I was finally able to see the little Cento Cedar for myself yesterday. The building is now colored burgandy/brick and the box office window is bricked-in. Seems to be a residence now.
I would have loved to see a film here! The alley, although branched off from the sketchy part of Polk Street, was clean and there were no sketchy people around. There were some nice cars parked all along the row. Perhaps it became slightly gentrified or night hadn’t fallen yet (and the night people hadn’t come out yet).
It’s easily walkable from Union Square and just a block or more from Van Ness.
Cute building, too.

I used to see lots of foreign movies with my artsy friends at the Cento Cedar in the ‘80s, during my high school and college years — I particularly remember seeing Jean-Pierre Melville’s “Bob le Flambeur.” We used to treck into the City just to see movies at the Cento, and then eat at Tommy’s Joynt. Now I live just a few blocks away, but virtually all of the theaters along the Van Ness corridor have vanished. Here’s a picture of the theater, when it was still the Cedar Alley Cinema:
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I worked at The Cento Cedar during its' brief revival in the 80s. Cool art/foreign programming.Cozy little theater, but no parking, and entrance was in an alley frequented by street people and hustlers, which eventually killed the business. I talked the owner into booking Michael Powell’s neglected classic Peeping Tom. The film was forgotten, unseen for years, we even had the director there, who was very gratified that somebody finally liked his movie, even 20-someting years later. I believe that started the critical re-evaluation of this film.