This was one of a number of virtually identical theaters built in a quick expansion shortly after Sony took over Loews in the early 90s, at the leading edge of the megaplex era. Although very nice for their time – in particular, they featured attractive atrium lobbies over their full length – they were built just before the advent of Stadium Seating and quickly became obsolete. In Chicagoland, three theaters built to this template were the Rolling Meadows, Crestwood, and Streamwood.
The stained glass definitely predates the church but I doubt the single-color panels are original. I believe they are removing the auditorium and rehabbing the building with some new condos perhaps.
Moving on, when CO first announced the new buildings, it was planned as an 8-screen, and was to be called the Lincolnwood. CO had a 25-year lease with 4 five-year options to renew. Shortly after it was built, the building itself was sold for 7.5 million dollars by the developers, to free up capital for other projects.
While CO still operated the Plaza, 1-6, and 7-9, the Plaza was generally booked with the more “urban” features.
In 1996, Cineplex was in fact sued for accessibility issues. However, the building was built before the ADA. Also that year, somewhat ironically, the Tribune named it the city’s best theater in terms of parking.
In 1998, CO proposed an 18-screen theater in Lincolnwood that would have replaced the LV 1-9 and Plaza; this was probably killed by the Loews/Cineplex merger. Also, from 1996-1999 CO also planned to build a 14-screen theater at Gateway Plaza, which got as far as foundations before being cancelled.
Kohlberg Theaters ran it from at least 1974-77. After their departure at the end of their lease in March, Charles Cooper signed a 15-year lease on the building and invested $50,000-$125,000 in improving the theater, which was then leased to Bob Taylor, formerly of Brotman and Sherman, with Oscar Brotman himself sharing booking responsibilities with Tom Brueggemann, who was characterized as a young whiz kid. The two quickly turned around the Village’s reputation from dump to attractive.
The Village was quadded in 1991. Rooding came in 1993, after operating the Village North (then still called the 400 Twin) since at least 1989. Interestingly, Rooding attempted to have the building landmarked in 1995 to save it from “the continual and perpetual threat” of destruction. The Germania building was already on the list of consideration at this time. Another interesting quote from this article stated, “Rooding said he and his fiance, Terri Sween, bought the theater in 1993 aware there was a demolition clause in the lease that could be invoked in 1997. The lease stated if the building was not torn down then, they could remain tenants another 14 years, Rooding said.” Shortly thereafter, a followup article stated, “The commission decided to examine other theaters of its era to determine if the Village, built in 1917, merits the designation. They cited the 400 Theatre, the Bryn Mawr and the Biograph as possibly being better examples of old theaters.” Of course, the 400 remains in operation, with a virtually identical interior; the Bryn Mawr had a highly altered facade then and now and remains closed; and the Biograph was landmarked under the criteria of being a better-preserved example of a old theater and subsequently gutted. Now, comparing the facade of the Biograph to the Village – which is the only thing left of the Biograph – can the argument really be made that the Biograph is a better example of a theater facade? I don’t think so. Nonetheless, the Village never received any landmarking.
GS, if it is indeed your business to know something about good architectural design, then you should know better than to let a grudge color your judgments. Nobody’s saying the Lincoln Village is an architectural icon of any sort. I said as much with my Lego remark – it is without question crude. But if you indeed are judging it in terms of multiplex architecture in its time period – which is really the only reasonable way to judge it, then yes, it is an innovative solution to the problem of fitting six cinemas on a constrained site. You must consider the alternatives.
Multiplexes have always been cookie-cutter box designs, but there was clearly extra effort put into the design here. If you know of a better approach to the problem of fitting six cinemas on a small footprint next to a parking lot that is presumably a flood plain, I’d like to hear it. The site also offered the architects (Probably David Mesbur, who did about 250 multiplexes for CO in the 80s) the opportunity to take advantage of a site at the focus of McCormick Boulevard, following classical planning principles – something few retailers would bother to do beyond a pylon sign.
If you’re going to talk about the quality of the design, you have to look at it in context of the area and of its era. The area is nothing more than a bunch of anonymous big box stores. It might be best judged in comparison to the earlier Lincoln Village, which may have been a fine theater in its own time, but it was essentially a totally undistinguished big brick box. Worse still was the Plaza, which was literally a big box, and by all accounts a terrible cinema.
A similar attempt to hide stairs – complete with striped brick – was carried out at the 1929 Atlanta Fox, as can be seen here. Perhaps you forget that the secondary and tertiary facades of movie palaces were almost always virtually blank walls with rusting iron escape stairs attached. Anyone who’s studied theater architecture will tell you that movie palace design was almost never meant to be a “faithful” reproduction of any revival style – the point was always to be flashy and out of place, to catch the eye. Theater architecture has almost never cared about context, accuracy, or fitting in with architectural ideals. The degree of elaborateness justified by economic concerns has gone down over the decades, but the same idea persists. It’s not relevant to judge in terms of postmodernism, because theaters have almost always been judged in terms of low architecture. You won’t find too many theaters designed by world-famous architects; they were always working in the vernacular. There were hardly any theaters built in the International style; theater architecture was Googie at best. Eye-catching, but nobody was handing out AIA prizes to the architects. I can tell you for sure that 20, 30 years after the movie palaces were built, a lot of people were deriding them as tacky and obsolete; that’s why so many were modernized and disfigured at that time. Although certainly not the same caliber of architecture and design as 20s movie palaces, LV – certainly more than a contemporary design by the same firm, the hidden-away Rivertree Court – recognizes its precedents and tries to have a distinct identity within the boundaries of corporate design standards. You will not find many multiplexes that have anything resembling a grand stairway, for instance (another design touch hearkening back to a modernized movie palace). It is distinct in that it does offer many touches not found in its contemporaries – two floors, an imaginative exterior, operating curtains, relatively large auditoria, and at least some connection to the street. As large as the building is, its bulk is broken up by the (functionally expressive, something rarely seen in multiplex design) stairways on the outside and by the use of variegated brick colors.
The LV is not an architectural gem by any means, but it is about the best you could possibly hope for from its era, and it does reflect what the ideal of a multiplex was at the time, much the same as the Muvico theaters do now. It is essentially what would pass for a movie palace in 1989 terms.
Perhaps the flag is the last refuge of a scoundrel, but Village isn’t operating out of any of their sites because they think anyone cares about their history, they’re doing so because they allow them to operate cheaply. I don’t think anyone’s choosing to go to any of their theaters because they’re old, they’re going because they’re cheap or because they’re convenient. Don’t wrap your (well-deserved) contempt for Village’s poor business practices in reasons that have nothing to do with the operator.
In 1931, the Buckingham was one of many theaters purchased by Warner Bros. In 1933, it was robbed 3 times in one week, netting a total of $39 for the burglars and severely unnerving the two box office girls. It may have closed as early as 1953.
Although Organic did not open at the Buckingham until 1981, plans to do so were in place as early as 1976. It took some time to raise funds, and there were numerous setbacks along the way before the National Endowment of the Arts issued a matching grant and the building was donated. When it opened in 1981, it had 299 seats and was reconfigured substantially from its days as a movie theater
The above is incorrect; the theater actually opened October 28, 1949 as the Telenews, the first new theater in Chicago in 9 years. Little more than a month later on December 3, 1949, it changed over from the Telenews to the Carnegie and dropped the newsreel policy, perhaps because newsreel theaters were usually located in central business districts, which Rush street was not. In March, 1950, the Telenews on State Street followed suit, becoming the Loop Theater, although it later reverted to Telenews and back again in 1960.
On opening, the Tribune described it this way:
“ Among all the flashy facades and neon signs on busy Rush st., the frontage of the new house looks tiny. Within its doors, however, are several spacious rooms and a small gem of a theater. The lobby is handsomely decorated, featuring soft shades of green, with a bleached wood trim, thick carpeting and comfortable lounge chairs in an emerald shade. An adjoining room is restful with walls of sage green, seven clocks showing the current time in various sections of the world, plus a colorful map of the two hemispheres, bordered by small sketches of the noted buildings in each important country, such as the White House, the Taj Mahal, and the Eiffel Tower.
The auditorium is small and compact, seating just under 500 people, with the comfortable push-back seats in rust color, a clock on the wall for those who just drop in between appointments. The entire main floor is devoted to the amusements of patrons, including a large and handsomely decorated radio television salon — they didn’t call it a lounge because every cocktail dispensary in the neighborhood uses that label — which includes two soundproof booths for the use of disk jockeys [ed. note: WMOR-FM], announcers, guest stars or any other performers who may seem suitable. This spacious room is also provided with several television sets for the use of patrons.
The entire house is a demonstration of quiet good taste, plus efficiency. The ladies' powder room is carpeted in pale pink, with pink and silver walls. The box-office adjoins the manager’s office, thus obviating the necessity of locking doors, and running back and forth with change and safe deposits.
The patrons' comfort is assured on the first floor, the employees' on the second. Here is a spacious projection room, with the most modern equipment and ample room for television if the future provides it. There are also spick and span dressing and washrooms for the usherettes, completely air-conditioned, as is the entire theater.
The house will be open from 1:45 p. m. to midnight. The latest in newsreels, shorts such as the "This Is America” series, and some cartoons will be featured.
The management, which owns and operates 14 theaters spotted thruout the country, finds that women are its best patrons, and that business follows the trend of big news. When newspaper headlines are startling or important, their business picks up; a lull in the press is followed by a drop-off in newsreel fans.“ – Chicago Tribune, Oct 30, 1949
1949-1954: Not sure, but likely operated by Telenews under a 5 year lease
1954-1963: Sylvan Goldfinger (also the Loop theater, itself formerly also the Telenews)
1963-1981: Oscar Brotman, Brotman & Sherman Theaters
1981-close: Plitt, Cineplex Odeon
I think it’s quite good architecturally, and C-O probably considered it a flagship of the Chicago market when it was opened. It’s a much more creative design than the standard multiplex. And I think it’s patterned somewhat after a paragon of premodern architecture, the Ziggurat at Ur
The 3 Penny is down to the bare walls. It looks like the plaster ceiling must have been removed before as there are ceiling fans suspended. However, surprisingly, the proscenium is still mostly intact, as are the surrounds to the screen-side exit doors. Presumably these features will be retained, ironically making the 3 Penny better-preserved than the Biograph. The former snack shop space next door has been totally gutted, with the roof off, and multiple window and door openings have been cut into the 3 Penny’s north wall. This should be a very interesting project to watch.
A great write-up on the Oasis with fantastic pictures is is here. Brotman and Sherman built the 59-acre first-run drive-in at a cost of $550,000, and it featured a capacity of 1,546 cars and a 53'x122'screen with a special coating to make it 2.8 times brighter than a normal screen. The theater’s construction was delayed due to fears that a trailer park would be erected in the unincorporated area, straining Elk Grove School District 59 while not contributing taxes. The initial permit for rezoning from farming use had initially been denied, but later the Circuit Court ruled that the theater represented highest and best use of the property, adjacent to an airport and tollway with more trailer parks around, and ground was broken May 12, 1960. Although at that time the Brotmans insisted mobile units were not part of the theater development, the mobile home units were clearly a component of the project, although it started out as only 380 units on 40 adjacent acres (If you look at an aerial photo, they are the plots in a chevron pattern almost alongside the tollway).
The middle eastern theming of the Oasis was quite elaborate, an excellent expression of Brotman’s showman flair, extending from the mosque-styled, mushroom-domed box office with nine artificial palm trees, three fake camels, and two waterfalls to sand dunes painted on the fences. There were even real animals on the grounds early on, such as ostriches, camels, llamas, ponies, and elephants. The ostriches were used on a special race track as an added attraction. The carhop girls were outfitted in “miniature American legion costumes in summertime and full-length legion costumes in winter”, while ramp men wore desert garb. The theater also featured a concession stand/snack shop with four cafeteria-style lines and ample bottle warmers, as well as recreation and playground areas, with a miniature golf added a few years later. Flanking the concession stand were two innovative climate-controlled 70-seat viewing rooms with large picture windows, with the intention of accommodating those who did not wish to remain in their cars, or even to allow for patrons to be dropped off without cars. All this desert theming must have seemed quite ironic in the middle of frigid Illinois winters, when patrons had to rely on electric heaters or the indoor viewing rooms. One might consider the Oasis as an extension of the 1920s fantasy theaters with 1960s kitsch, well-exemplified by the fact that the Oasis theme was only suggested by the naming of the contemporary and quite nearby Des Plaines Tollway Oasis restaurant and gas station. Upon its opening in September 1960, featuring “On The Terrace” and “Murder, Inc”, it received an award from the National Association of Outdoor Theaters honoring it as “the most modern outdoor theater built in the last decade”. Besides the aforementioned features, it also featured an advanced projection system designed to reduce distortion from the head of the carbons, claiming to be the first in Illinois with this technology. To improve sight lines, the ground was double-ramped.
Jet noise may or may not have been a factor in the closure. On one hand, the site was located approximately 5,000 feet from the end of Runway 32R. O'Hare had become the focus of major development as the city’s new airport as early as 1955, but did not become the world’s busiest until 1962, after the theater had opened. However, 32R was pre-existing from O'Hare’s earlier use as an aircraft plant during the war, and the project to upgrade it into the jet runway (at the time, the world’s longest for civilian use) was begun well before the Drive-In, so noise must have been anticipated.
As a result of this geography, in a tragic footnote, the Oasis site would bear witness to the deadliest airplane crash in US history. Directly adjacent to the Oasis, to the south along Touhy was the former Ravenswood Airport, which closed July 31, 1962 – it must have been interesting for all parties having the O'Hare and Ravenswood traffic over the drive-in. On May 25, 1979 American Airlines Flight 191 crashed 31 seconds after takeoff, hitting the former airport’s hangar and killing two occupants as well as all 272 people onboard and throwing debris into the adjacent Touhy Mobile Home park. A few more seconds in the air and the crash would have occurred squarely in the Oasis mobile home park; a few degrees Northwest and the plane would have hit massive fuel tanks. Either outcome would have inevitably led to a greater loss of life on the ground. In a chilling irony, the Ravenswood Airport was at the time also being used to sell used aircraft parts; as a result, a sign pointing towards the wreckage bore the words “Airplane Parts, 320 W. Touhy”.
Staffing issues are part of Village’s business model, that’s true of all their locations. In fact most of these issues are. And the city does not own the lot, the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District does. So it wouldn’t be the city trying to shut them down.
The Nita originally had closer to 800 seats. It now houses the Carniceria la Mejor grocery. Two doors down is Chicago Salvage, which was formerly a smaller theater, the Drake.
Well, there are lots posted in the comments, but I’ll be nice and repost the links.
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This was one of a number of virtually identical theaters built in a quick expansion shortly after Sony took over Loews in the early 90s, at the leading edge of the megaplex era. Although very nice for their time – in particular, they featured attractive atrium lobbies over their full length – they were built just before the advent of Stadium Seating and quickly became obsolete. In Chicagoland, three theaters built to this template were the Rolling Meadows, Crestwood, and Streamwood.
The stained glass definitely predates the church but I doubt the single-color panels are original. I believe they are removing the auditorium and rehabbing the building with some new condos perhaps.
Well, I think we are mostly in agreement then.
Moving on, when CO first announced the new buildings, it was planned as an 8-screen, and was to be called the Lincolnwood. CO had a 25-year lease with 4 five-year options to renew. Shortly after it was built, the building itself was sold for 7.5 million dollars by the developers, to free up capital for other projects.
While CO still operated the Plaza, 1-6, and 7-9, the Plaza was generally booked with the more “urban” features.
In 1996, Cineplex was in fact sued for accessibility issues. However, the building was built before the ADA. Also that year, somewhat ironically, the Tribune named it the city’s best theater in terms of parking.
In 1998, CO proposed an 18-screen theater in Lincolnwood that would have replaced the LV 1-9 and Plaza; this was probably killed by the Loews/Cineplex merger. Also, from 1996-1999 CO also planned to build a 14-screen theater at Gateway Plaza, which got as far as foundations before being cancelled.
Kohlberg Theaters ran it from at least 1974-77. After their departure at the end of their lease in March, Charles Cooper signed a 15-year lease on the building and invested $50,000-$125,000 in improving the theater, which was then leased to Bob Taylor, formerly of Brotman and Sherman, with Oscar Brotman himself sharing booking responsibilities with Tom Brueggemann, who was characterized as a young whiz kid. The two quickly turned around the Village’s reputation from dump to attractive.
The Village was quadded in 1991. Rooding came in 1993, after operating the Village North (then still called the 400 Twin) since at least 1989. Interestingly, Rooding attempted to have the building landmarked in 1995 to save it from “the continual and perpetual threat” of destruction. The Germania building was already on the list of consideration at this time. Another interesting quote from this article stated, “Rooding said he and his fiance, Terri Sween, bought the theater in 1993 aware there was a demolition clause in the lease that could be invoked in 1997. The lease stated if the building was not torn down then, they could remain tenants another 14 years, Rooding said.” Shortly thereafter, a followup article stated, “The commission decided to examine other theaters of its era to determine if the Village, built in 1917, merits the designation. They cited the 400 Theatre, the Bryn Mawr and the Biograph as possibly being better examples of old theaters.” Of course, the 400 remains in operation, with a virtually identical interior; the Bryn Mawr had a highly altered facade then and now and remains closed; and the Biograph was landmarked under the criteria of being a better-preserved example of a old theater and subsequently gutted. Now, comparing the facade of the Biograph to the Village – which is the only thing left of the Biograph – can the argument really be made that the Biograph is a better example of a theater facade? I don’t think so. Nonetheless, the Village never received any landmarking.
GS, if it is indeed your business to know something about good architectural design, then you should know better than to let a grudge color your judgments. Nobody’s saying the Lincoln Village is an architectural icon of any sort. I said as much with my Lego remark – it is without question crude. But if you indeed are judging it in terms of multiplex architecture in its time period – which is really the only reasonable way to judge it, then yes, it is an innovative solution to the problem of fitting six cinemas on a constrained site. You must consider the alternatives.
Multiplexes have always been cookie-cutter box designs, but there was clearly extra effort put into the design here. If you know of a better approach to the problem of fitting six cinemas on a small footprint next to a parking lot that is presumably a flood plain, I’d like to hear it. The site also offered the architects (Probably David Mesbur, who did about 250 multiplexes for CO in the 80s) the opportunity to take advantage of a site at the focus of McCormick Boulevard, following classical planning principles – something few retailers would bother to do beyond a pylon sign.
If you’re going to talk about the quality of the design, you have to look at it in context of the area and of its era. The area is nothing more than a bunch of anonymous big box stores. It might be best judged in comparison to the earlier Lincoln Village, which may have been a fine theater in its own time, but it was essentially a totally undistinguished big brick box. Worse still was the Plaza, which was literally a big box, and by all accounts a terrible cinema.
A similar attempt to hide stairs – complete with striped brick – was carried out at the 1929 Atlanta Fox, as can be seen here. Perhaps you forget that the secondary and tertiary facades of movie palaces were almost always virtually blank walls with rusting iron escape stairs attached. Anyone who’s studied theater architecture will tell you that movie palace design was almost never meant to be a “faithful” reproduction of any revival style – the point was always to be flashy and out of place, to catch the eye. Theater architecture has almost never cared about context, accuracy, or fitting in with architectural ideals. The degree of elaborateness justified by economic concerns has gone down over the decades, but the same idea persists. It’s not relevant to judge in terms of postmodernism, because theaters have almost always been judged in terms of low architecture. You won’t find too many theaters designed by world-famous architects; they were always working in the vernacular. There were hardly any theaters built in the International style; theater architecture was Googie at best. Eye-catching, but nobody was handing out AIA prizes to the architects. I can tell you for sure that 20, 30 years after the movie palaces were built, a lot of people were deriding them as tacky and obsolete; that’s why so many were modernized and disfigured at that time. Although certainly not the same caliber of architecture and design as 20s movie palaces, LV – certainly more than a contemporary design by the same firm, the hidden-away Rivertree Court – recognizes its precedents and tries to have a distinct identity within the boundaries of corporate design standards. You will not find many multiplexes that have anything resembling a grand stairway, for instance (another design touch hearkening back to a modernized movie palace). It is distinct in that it does offer many touches not found in its contemporaries – two floors, an imaginative exterior, operating curtains, relatively large auditoria, and at least some connection to the street. As large as the building is, its bulk is broken up by the (functionally expressive, something rarely seen in multiplex design) stairways on the outside and by the use of variegated brick colors.
The LV is not an architectural gem by any means, but it is about the best you could possibly hope for from its era, and it does reflect what the ideal of a multiplex was at the time, much the same as the Muvico theaters do now. It is essentially what would pass for a movie palace in 1989 terms.
Perhaps the flag is the last refuge of a scoundrel, but Village isn’t operating out of any of their sites because they think anyone cares about their history, they’re doing so because they allow them to operate cheaply. I don’t think anyone’s choosing to go to any of their theaters because they’re old, they’re going because they’re cheap or because they’re convenient. Don’t wrap your (well-deserved) contempt for Village’s poor business practices in reasons that have nothing to do with the operator.
Good for security too.
In 1931, the Buckingham was one of many theaters purchased by Warner Bros. In 1933, it was robbed 3 times in one week, netting a total of $39 for the burglars and severely unnerving the two box office girls. It may have closed as early as 1953.
Although Organic did not open at the Buckingham until 1981, plans to do so were in place as early as 1976. It took some time to raise funds, and there were numerous setbacks along the way before the National Endowment of the Arts issued a matching grant and the building was donated. When it opened in 1981, it had 299 seats and was reconfigured substantially from its days as a movie theater
The above is incorrect; the theater actually opened October 28, 1949 as the Telenews, the first new theater in Chicago in 9 years. Little more than a month later on December 3, 1949, it changed over from the Telenews to the Carnegie and dropped the newsreel policy, perhaps because newsreel theaters were usually located in central business districts, which Rush street was not. In March, 1950, the Telenews on State Street followed suit, becoming the Loop Theater, although it later reverted to Telenews and back again in 1960.
On opening, the Tribune described it this way:
“ Among all the flashy facades and neon signs on busy Rush st., the frontage of the new house looks tiny. Within its doors, however, are several spacious rooms and a small gem of a theater. The lobby is handsomely decorated, featuring soft shades of green, with a bleached wood trim, thick carpeting and comfortable lounge chairs in an emerald shade. An adjoining room is restful with walls of sage green, seven clocks showing the current time in various sections of the world, plus a colorful map of the two hemispheres, bordered by small sketches of the noted buildings in each important country, such as the White House, the Taj Mahal, and the Eiffel Tower.
The auditorium is small and compact, seating just under 500 people, with the comfortable push-back seats in rust color, a clock on the wall for those who just drop in between appointments. The entire main floor is devoted to the amusements of patrons, including a large and handsomely decorated radio television salon — they didn’t call it a lounge because every cocktail dispensary in the neighborhood uses that label — which includes two soundproof booths for the use of disk jockeys [ed. note: WMOR-FM], announcers, guest stars or any other performers who may seem suitable. This spacious room is also provided with several television sets for the use of patrons.
The entire house is a demonstration of quiet good taste, plus efficiency. The ladies' powder room is carpeted in pale pink, with pink and silver walls. The box-office adjoins the manager’s office, thus obviating the necessity of locking doors, and running back and forth with change and safe deposits.
The patrons' comfort is assured on the first floor, the employees' on the second. Here is a spacious projection room, with the most modern equipment and ample room for television if the future provides it. There are also spick and span dressing and washrooms for the usherettes, completely air-conditioned, as is the entire theater.
The house will be open from 1:45 p. m. to midnight. The latest in newsreels, shorts such as the "This Is America” series, and some cartoons will be featured.
The management, which owns and operates 14 theaters spotted thruout the country, finds that women are its best patrons, and that business follows the trend of big news. When newspaper headlines are startling or important, their business picks up; a lull in the press is followed by a drop-off in newsreel fans.“ – Chicago Tribune, Oct 30, 1949
1949-1954: Not sure, but likely operated by Telenews under a 5 year lease
1954-1963: Sylvan Goldfinger (also the Loop theater, itself formerly also the Telenews)
1963-1981: Oscar Brotman, Brotman & Sherman Theaters
1981-close: Plitt, Cineplex Odeon
Maybe “ziggurat as rendered in legos” would be a more apt description. I think it brings an interesting monumental quality to a sea of big boxes.
I think it’s quite good architecturally, and C-O probably considered it a flagship of the Chicago market when it was opened. It’s a much more creative design than the standard multiplex. And I think it’s patterned somewhat after a paragon of premodern architecture, the Ziggurat at Ur
The other side of Milwaukee will probably redevelop once the housing market gets better. A condo project was announced but it seems to have stalled.
As noted in the description, the UA was sold to Balaban and Katz two years after opening, in 1929.
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The 3 Penny is down to the bare walls. It looks like the plaster ceiling must have been removed before as there are ceiling fans suspended. However, surprisingly, the proscenium is still mostly intact, as are the surrounds to the screen-side exit doors. Presumably these features will be retained, ironically making the 3 Penny better-preserved than the Biograph. The former snack shop space next door has been totally gutted, with the roof off, and multiple window and door openings have been cut into the 3 Penny’s north wall. This should be a very interesting project to watch.
A great write-up on the Oasis with fantastic pictures is is here. Brotman and Sherman built the 59-acre first-run drive-in at a cost of $550,000, and it featured a capacity of 1,546 cars and a 53'x122'screen with a special coating to make it 2.8 times brighter than a normal screen. The theater’s construction was delayed due to fears that a trailer park would be erected in the unincorporated area, straining Elk Grove School District 59 while not contributing taxes. The initial permit for rezoning from farming use had initially been denied, but later the Circuit Court ruled that the theater represented highest and best use of the property, adjacent to an airport and tollway with more trailer parks around, and ground was broken May 12, 1960. Although at that time the Brotmans insisted mobile units were not part of the theater development, the mobile home units were clearly a component of the project, although it started out as only 380 units on 40 adjacent acres (If you look at an aerial photo, they are the plots in a chevron pattern almost alongside the tollway).
The middle eastern theming of the Oasis was quite elaborate, an excellent expression of Brotman’s showman flair, extending from the mosque-styled, mushroom-domed box office with nine artificial palm trees, three fake camels, and two waterfalls to sand dunes painted on the fences. There were even real animals on the grounds early on, such as ostriches, camels, llamas, ponies, and elephants. The ostriches were used on a special race track as an added attraction. The carhop girls were outfitted in “miniature American legion costumes in summertime and full-length legion costumes in winter”, while ramp men wore desert garb. The theater also featured a concession stand/snack shop with four cafeteria-style lines and ample bottle warmers, as well as recreation and playground areas, with a miniature golf added a few years later. Flanking the concession stand were two innovative climate-controlled 70-seat viewing rooms with large picture windows, with the intention of accommodating those who did not wish to remain in their cars, or even to allow for patrons to be dropped off without cars. All this desert theming must have seemed quite ironic in the middle of frigid Illinois winters, when patrons had to rely on electric heaters or the indoor viewing rooms. One might consider the Oasis as an extension of the 1920s fantasy theaters with 1960s kitsch, well-exemplified by the fact that the Oasis theme was only suggested by the naming of the contemporary and quite nearby Des Plaines Tollway Oasis restaurant and gas station. Upon its opening in September 1960, featuring “On The Terrace” and “Murder, Inc”, it received an award from the National Association of Outdoor Theaters honoring it as “the most modern outdoor theater built in the last decade”. Besides the aforementioned features, it also featured an advanced projection system designed to reduce distortion from the head of the carbons, claiming to be the first in Illinois with this technology. To improve sight lines, the ground was double-ramped.
Jet noise may or may not have been a factor in the closure. On one hand, the site was located approximately 5,000 feet from the end of Runway 32R. O'Hare had become the focus of major development as the city’s new airport as early as 1955, but did not become the world’s busiest until 1962, after the theater had opened. However, 32R was pre-existing from O'Hare’s earlier use as an aircraft plant during the war, and the project to upgrade it into the jet runway (at the time, the world’s longest for civilian use) was begun well before the Drive-In, so noise must have been anticipated.
As a result of this geography, in a tragic footnote, the Oasis site would bear witness to the deadliest airplane crash in US history. Directly adjacent to the Oasis, to the south along Touhy was the former Ravenswood Airport, which closed July 31, 1962 – it must have been interesting for all parties having the O'Hare and Ravenswood traffic over the drive-in. On May 25, 1979 American Airlines Flight 191 crashed 31 seconds after takeoff, hitting the former airport’s hangar and killing two occupants as well as all 272 people onboard and throwing debris into the adjacent Touhy Mobile Home park. A few more seconds in the air and the crash would have occurred squarely in the Oasis mobile home park; a few degrees Northwest and the plane would have hit massive fuel tanks. Either outcome would have inevitably led to a greater loss of life on the ground. In a chilling irony, the Ravenswood Airport was at the time also being used to sell used aircraft parts; as a result, a sign pointing towards the wreckage bore the words “Airplane Parts, 320 W. Touhy”.
My mistake; that was in fact a Sun-Times article.
The Esquire appears to remain doomed, but the plans for the site have again changed. Chicago Tribune article
Agreed, I would be very interested to see what kinds of deals have allowed them to remain open as long as they have.
Staffing issues are part of Village’s business model, that’s true of all their locations. In fact most of these issues are. And the city does not own the lot, the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District does. So it wouldn’t be the city trying to shut them down.
The Windsor featured a balcont and stage.
http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/cph.3b38423 has a photo of what is presumably this Lyceum theater.
It was open at least 1908-1951, had a balcony and was converted into a garage by 1953. It also had a sizable stage.
The Nita originally had closer to 800 seats. It now houses the Carniceria la Mejor grocery. Two doors down is Chicago Salvage, which was formerly a smaller theater, the Drake.