As I recall, Ben Sack guaranteed 20th Century Fox $200,000 to obtain “Cleopatra” for the Music Hall, a fortune of money in those days. In advertising the film, a big deal was made over the fact that all seats were in the orchestra; but Sack and his manager A. Alan Friedberg – who later ousted Sack from his own company – notoriously sold “strip tickets” in the balcony on weekends when demand was high. These tickets were very unlikely reported in the ticket manifest that went to Fox, helping Sack get a quicker return on his “guarantee.”
In the final analysis, how many twinnings of single-screen theatres ever improved on the originals? Younger moviegoers on this site who are nostalgic over what they saw at “the cinemas” on hard ticket really missed out on experiencing “Boston’s Finest Suburban Theatre” as Ron Newman noted above the original theatre boasted. We did have a couple of nice theatres nearby – the Coolidge Corner and Allston that were built in the old-time movie palace style (but smaller) 20’s and 30’s. But when the Circle was opened in 1940 it was unique, the hopeful beginning of a new era in modern movie theatre buildings. But I don’t believe that one single-screen theatre was built in Boston after the Circle went up; and it stood alone in that department for too many years – it wasn’t until the megaplexes were built many years later. And the first of those were mostly inadequate from the beginning (Newton, for instance). But the Circle? Imagine – in the 40’s – reclining seats, air conditioning (they called it air-cooled, I think) a clean modern look without any frou-frou, a luxurious house curtain that was opened and closed between every single portion of the program (which often included a travelogue, a comedy short, cartoons, newsreel, previews and …. a double feature until (when?) maybe the mid 50s. Now that’s nostalgia! The first time I set foot in the Cinemas (1966) was the last time I went there. I hate to throw cold water on the young ones here, but …. good riddance.
I can still remember the pleasantly musty scent of this great old theatre during its heyday. Right or wrong my memory is that they competed with the Kenmore for British comedies – early Peter Sellers (I’m All Right Jack, The Mouse That Roared) and the great Terry-Thomas in “School for Scoundrels” the most memorable of all. I can still hear T-T repeatedly shouting out “Haaaard Cheese!” every time he outdid his victim, played by Ian Carmichael.
Most notably, the Exeter frequently foisted those god-awful moving abstract painting shorts with harpsuchord music before the feature. Believe me they were even more annoying than Mel Brooks made them out to be in his Oscar-winning short “The Critic” in 1963. (See my posting for the Astor for more on that brilliant little 3 ½ minute film – it was shown all over the land before each screening of “Dr. Strangelove”.)
Two standout memories of the Kenmore
1. “And God Created Woman” 1956 – Brigitte Bardot scandalized Boston in the first of her films to play the US. Even the poster outside the theatre was scandalous!
2. “Carry on Nurse” 1959 – the second of the “Carry On” series – absolutely side-splittingly funny in its day – made even more memorable because the management rewarded each patron a plastic daisy on exiting the cinema. (Spoiler: one scene utilized a daisy as a thermometer, one of the first memories I have of oft-used potty humor by the British.)
I saw the first professional stage show of my life at this great theatre in 1948 – the Doyly Carte Opera’s “The Mikado”, which starred the legendary Martyn Green. I can still remember where we sat – my aunt took me and my cousin for our birthdays – and even a memory of the smell of the place. I believe the theatre was closed (prior to its being condemned) because of the Shubert’s consent decree with the US Government for holding monopolies in several cities. (Which is why they happen to own 17 ½ theatres on Broadway, when they once owned 35.)
Jimmy Hulse was box office treasurer at the Astor during the reserved-seat “El Cid†run at the Astor, on leave from his regular box office post at the Wilbur (a legit house).
The manager of the Astor was Lou Krasnow, who held that job from sometime in the late 40’s until well after I left there in ’64.
“Psycho†never played the Astor (it was at the Paramount), nor did “The Birdsâ€. We did play “Bye Bye Birdie†at the Astor at the same time “The Birds†played elsewhere. (!)
“I Could Go On Singing†opened day-and-date with New York, a rarity for Boston in those days – Judy Garland’s first musical feature after “A Star Is Born†and was a huge flop from Day One. It was a classic example of the old adage “The public always knows what it doesn’t want to see†and was the only disaster we had at the Astor in the 2 ½ years I worked there.
And “The Longest Day†had a big premiere at the Astor, where it ran for several months on reserved seats. The Chairman of 20th Century Fox, Spiros Skouros, attended the opening and spent the entire evening in the lobby, working his Greek prayer beads.
Jimmy Hulse was box office treasurer at the Astor during the reserved-seat “El Cid†run at the Astor, on leave from his regular box office post at the Wilbur (a legit house).
The manager of the Astor was Lou Krasnow, who held that job from sometime in the late 40’s until well after I left there in ’64.
“Psycho†never played the Astor (it was at the Paramount), nor did “The Birdsâ€. We did play “Bye Bye Birdie†at the Astor at the same time “The Birds†played elsewhere. (!)
“I Could Go On Singing†opened day-and-date with New York, a rarity for Boston in those days – Judy Garland’s first musical feature after “A Star Is Born†and was a huge flop from Day One. It was a classic example of the old adage “The public always knows what it doesn’t want to see†and was the only disaster we had at the Astor in the 2 ½ years I worked there.
And “The Longest Day†had a big premiere at the Astor, where it ran for several months on reserved seats. The Chairman of 20th Century Fox, Spiros Skouros, attended the opening and spent the entire evening in the lobby, working his Greek prayer beads.
Interesting addition, Ron. One more – In the 30s the Tremont was home to Eva LeGallienne’s repertory company; and it was programs from then the I found on the day I wandered up to the former second balcony. My guess of about 1150 seats was probably a tad high, but not by much. Of course the balcony lost many seats for the projection booth; and the push-back seats at the Astor took up more room than when the house was legit, I’m sure. I still miss the old place, after all these years (45!).
My first memories of the Cleveland Circle, as it was called when I lived nearby (it was officially in Brighton, by the way) were as a 7-year old. That would be 1948.
It was a ten minute walk from where I lived, so I saw plenty of movies there. I think a ticket cost 11 cents for children, 15 or 20 for adults. Imagine â€" pricing in pennies!
I don’t know when it was built, but I would guess shortly after WWII, but certainly not as late as the 50’s as some have suggested here.
It had a spacious outer lobby where the ticket seller was. And a great big candy stand in a big, carpeted inner lobby. There was also a not-so-large balcony which was always available (I think).
They did indeed show a couple of cartoons, a newsreel and sometimes another short, often a travelogue. But previews? Only two, for whatever was coming next! Yes, in addition to the above, it was always a double feature.
The Circle was a first-run second-run theatre back then. In other words, very soon after a picture closed its run downtown it would play the Circle, one of less than a handful throughout the city. The others â€" like the Egyptian, on the other side of Brighton (near Allston) would be third run houses.
The auditorium had modern comfortable push-back seats and there was a curtain in front of the screen, which was dramatically opened and closed between portions of the program.
I can’t fathom how it is that one of the first pictures I remember seeing there was “Joan of Arcâ€, starring Ingrid Bergman, in 1948. When I was 7? And without my mother? I cried my eyes out when she was burned at the stake. (Maybe I saw it later in re-issue.) You can see it on DVD now â€" quite a spectacle. By 1953 there were no more double features and one of my great all-time memories is going with my pals to see “Stalag 17†every day twice a day for the entire week of our Easter vacation that year. We saw it fourteen times! And we knew every line by heart.
It really is a shame that there are so few single screen theatres any more. Going to the movies at a single screen theatre always seemed to be more of an occasion.
I was assistant manager of the Astor for 2 ½ years from August 1962.
Tremont entrance: I doubt that the entrance could ever have been on Avery Street because only the back of the auditorium went to Avery, all the way back to the sidewalk, where there were emergency exits (which we used to exit audiences between showings of sold-out performances). The box office was located on the Tremont St. sidewalk, and the arcade leading into the inner lobby was at least 50 feet to the ticket taker. It was certainly unique, seeming to be something added on, but I can’t imagine where an ‘original’ entrance could have been otherwise.
The auditorium: I am confident that even with the second balcony there could never have been 2450 seats in that space (which Cinema Treasures lists) â€" especially as there about 1150+ when I worked there. Likely there had been a second balcony when the house was originally built but curiously all that remained was enough space for the ‘appearance’ of one. And there was no public stairway to get up there â€" just a ladder from behind the projection booth. I remember crawling up there one day and finding a treasure trove of old theatre programs scattered all over, going back to the 20’s and 30’s. (Oh, that only I had the presence of mind to have retrieved them!) We had about 900 seats on the main floor, with three seating sections, and five aisles. Each row and seat had letter/number tags on them â€"for the several reserved seat attractions that played there over the years (the first, “The Ten Commandments†in 1953; and the last, “The Longest Day†in 1962).
The Screen: Very likely there was never a larger movie screen in Boston, except for Cinerama (and possibly only one or two even in New York (The Rivoli, The Capitol). It was 51 feet and the only curved widescreen in the city, and it was built at floor level (The entire stage had been removed once the theatre was converted to a film house) with masking that went only about two feet above the floor). I recall that when we had completely sold-out performances of “The Longest Day†that the poor unfortunates sitting in the front rows looked like people at a tennis match, with heads swerving from left to right every time a subtitle appeared (which was frequently in that film â€" all the German and French actors spoke in their own languages). I don’t know what material it was made of, but there were countless thousands of pinholes in it, and one could clearly see the entire audience when standing behind it, looking out. (A fond memory: we played the Mel Brooks winning animated short “The Critic†in which Brooks was the voice of an audience member commenting on the abstract designs in the film. I often went behind the screen to observe the audience looking around to see who had shouted out “What the hell is this?â€, the first line of dialogue in that short, in Brooks’ own voice, after maybe fifteen seconds of harpsichord music accompaniment to moving abstract drawings.)
The projection equipment: the most up-to-date available in its day; and likely none better in any theatre in Boston â€" three 35/70mm Phillips projectors with carbon arc lamps, each equipped with magnetic sound capability, for the 4-track audio used in many films of that era â€" musicals such as “The Music Man†and “Bye Bye Birdieâ€, both of which played the Astor; and for “The Longest Dayâ€. These films, by the way, were 35mm prints with 70mm soundtracks I believe the projectors were installed in 1957, for the showing of the first Super Panavision 65mm film “Raintree Countyâ€. I think the last true 70mm film that played the Astor was shortly before I worked there, “El Cid†in 1962 â€" a reserved seat attraction, by the way.
The sound equipment: again, the best available in its day â€" all Altec speakers â€" three giant ones behind the screen (for magnetic stereo soundtracks) and a few placed at the very rear of the theatre â€" there were only 4 tracks back then, but the three screen tracks often had distinct separation of voices â€" even when actors walked across the picture, their voices would follow) When watching magtrack movies at the Astor, I always sat in a side section so I could hear the stereo separation more distinctly.
The ownership: I’m not certain of the range of dates, but sometime before and after I worked there the Astor was owned by a patrician elder named Dan Finn. He owned but two theatres â€" the first-run Astor and the second-run Coolidge Corner, in suburban Brookline. Readers of this website can be certain he was no longer the owner during the days of its decline. We were the main competitor for the then 5-theatre Sack chain, another one-man operation in Boston at that time. Sack had all the other reserved seat theatres in town, two other former legit houses (The Saxon – “Ben Hurâ€; The Gary – “Lawrence of Arabiaâ€; and The 4000-seat Music Hall – “Cleopatraâ€).[Did “Gigi†play reserved seats at the Beacon Hill?] In all modesty, none of his houses were as fine as the Astor â€" both “Ben Hur†and “Lawrence†would have been shown to far greater advantage at the Astor, for instance) but he had the clout of having several screens; and the deep pockets to put up the high guarantees such pictures commanded.
Performance schedule: All downtown Boston movie houses played continuous showings, beginning around 9 or 10 am, noon on Sunday), with the last screening rarely later than 9:30. We played as many performances as we could squeeze in, usually every two hours for shorter films â€" with usually only 15 minutes for “spill and fillâ€.
Concessions: As other posters mentioned, the Astor had a fine concession stand (just one); and our pride and joy was that we served pure butter only on our buttered popcorn â€" even back then most theatres used some ersatz product. I remember that every night I would put the butter into the fridge, and we constantly fed the dispenser with quarter-pound sticks of fresh LandOLakes butter during the day. I think we charged a quarter (one size only) â€" with three squirts of butter: one in the middle and two on top. Plain popcorn was 15 cents.
Admission prices: the day I began working (“The Music Manâ€) was the first day that the Astor had the highest price in town – $1.80, weekday evenings and two dollars (!) on Friday and Saturday. (I don’t recall any complaints.) The previous high in Boston had been $1.50.
Film bookings: In that era, before multiplexes, all movies opened on one screen in downtown Boston and played as long as business warranted, before moving on to second run houses in the suburbs. Except for a few dry weeks during my two years at the Astor, when we played re-issue double bills (Hitchcock’s “Vertigo†and “The Man Who Knew Too Muchâ€, for instance â€" and both in wonderful VistaVision â€" was there ever a better film technique? â€" we probably played fewer than a dozen movies. Some of our most memorable, in addition to those mentioned above: “Seven Days in Mayâ€, “The Night of the Iguanaâ€, “Under the Yum Yum Tree†(only because the run began the first day we re-opened after the Kennedy assassination â€" all theatres went dark for three days â€" and which sold out every performance the entire weekend.); and especially “Dr. Strangeloveâ€, which Columbia Pictures postponed from its original release date because of the assassination. It was an absolute sensation when it played the Astor, especially because of its appeal to the younger college-age crowd (of which I was one then).
The big white billboard sign above the marquee: It was the property of the theatre and we always used it to promote important pictures that played there, sometimes many weeks in advance of their run.
The demise: When I left the Astor, I left Boston so I don’t have any accurate information about when it went into decline, for how long, and why. I recall that after its closing there had been a serious fire there; and of course now the Loews Commons colossus stands on the very site today.
As I recall, Ben Sack guaranteed 20th Century Fox $200,000 to obtain “Cleopatra” for the Music Hall, a fortune of money in those days. In advertising the film, a big deal was made over the fact that all seats were in the orchestra; but Sack and his manager A. Alan Friedberg – who later ousted Sack from his own company – notoriously sold “strip tickets” in the balcony on weekends when demand was high. These tickets were very unlikely reported in the ticket manifest that went to Fox, helping Sack get a quicker return on his “guarantee.”
Thanks, Ron for the correction on my posting. I gues my own nostalgia for The Circle got the best of me (too)!
In the final analysis, how many twinnings of single-screen theatres ever improved on the originals? Younger moviegoers on this site who are nostalgic over what they saw at “the cinemas” on hard ticket really missed out on experiencing “Boston’s Finest Suburban Theatre” as Ron Newman noted above the original theatre boasted. We did have a couple of nice theatres nearby – the Coolidge Corner and Allston that were built in the old-time movie palace style (but smaller) 20’s and 30’s. But when the Circle was opened in 1940 it was unique, the hopeful beginning of a new era in modern movie theatre buildings. But I don’t believe that one single-screen theatre was built in Boston after the Circle went up; and it stood alone in that department for too many years – it wasn’t until the megaplexes were built many years later. And the first of those were mostly inadequate from the beginning (Newton, for instance). But the Circle? Imagine – in the 40’s – reclining seats, air conditioning (they called it air-cooled, I think) a clean modern look without any frou-frou, a luxurious house curtain that was opened and closed between every single portion of the program (which often included a travelogue, a comedy short, cartoons, newsreel, previews and …. a double feature until (when?) maybe the mid 50s. Now that’s nostalgia! The first time I set foot in the Cinemas (1966) was the last time I went there. I hate to throw cold water on the young ones here, but …. good riddance.
I can still remember the pleasantly musty scent of this great old theatre during its heyday. Right or wrong my memory is that they competed with the Kenmore for British comedies – early Peter Sellers (I’m All Right Jack, The Mouse That Roared) and the great Terry-Thomas in “School for Scoundrels” the most memorable of all. I can still hear T-T repeatedly shouting out “Haaaard Cheese!” every time he outdid his victim, played by Ian Carmichael.
Most notably, the Exeter frequently foisted those god-awful moving abstract painting shorts with harpsuchord music before the feature. Believe me they were even more annoying than Mel Brooks made them out to be in his Oscar-winning short “The Critic” in 1963. (See my posting for the Astor for more on that brilliant little 3 ½ minute film – it was shown all over the land before each screening of “Dr. Strangelove”.)
Two standout memories of the Kenmore
1. “And God Created Woman” 1956 – Brigitte Bardot scandalized Boston in the first of her films to play the US. Even the poster outside the theatre was scandalous!
2. “Carry on Nurse” 1959 – the second of the “Carry On” series – absolutely side-splittingly funny in its day – made even more memorable because the management rewarded each patron a plastic daisy on exiting the cinema. (Spoiler: one scene utilized a daisy as a thermometer, one of the first memories I have of oft-used potty humor by the British.)
I saw the first professional stage show of my life at this great theatre in 1948 – the Doyly Carte Opera’s “The Mikado”, which starred the legendary Martyn Green. I can still remember where we sat – my aunt took me and my cousin for our birthdays – and even a memory of the smell of the place. I believe the theatre was closed (prior to its being condemned) because of the Shubert’s consent decree with the US Government for holding monopolies in several cities. (Which is why they happen to own 17 ½ theatres on Broadway, when they once owned 35.)
For the record â€"
For the record â€"
Interesting addition, Ron. One more – In the 30s the Tremont was home to Eva LeGallienne’s repertory company; and it was programs from then the I found on the day I wandered up to the former second balcony. My guess of about 1150 seats was probably a tad high, but not by much. Of course the balcony lost many seats for the projection booth; and the push-back seats at the Astor took up more room than when the house was legit, I’m sure. I still miss the old place, after all these years (45!).
My first memories of the Cleveland Circle, as it was called when I lived nearby (it was officially in Brighton, by the way) were as a 7-year old. That would be 1948.
It was a ten minute walk from where I lived, so I saw plenty of movies there. I think a ticket cost 11 cents for children, 15 or 20 for adults. Imagine â€" pricing in pennies!
I don’t know when it was built, but I would guess shortly after WWII, but certainly not as late as the 50’s as some have suggested here.
It had a spacious outer lobby where the ticket seller was. And a great big candy stand in a big, carpeted inner lobby. There was also a not-so-large balcony which was always available (I think).
They did indeed show a couple of cartoons, a newsreel and sometimes another short, often a travelogue. But previews? Only two, for whatever was coming next! Yes, in addition to the above, it was always a double feature.
The Circle was a first-run second-run theatre back then. In other words, very soon after a picture closed its run downtown it would play the Circle, one of less than a handful throughout the city. The others â€" like the Egyptian, on the other side of Brighton (near Allston) would be third run houses.
The auditorium had modern comfortable push-back seats and there was a curtain in front of the screen, which was dramatically opened and closed between portions of the program.
I can’t fathom how it is that one of the first pictures I remember seeing there was “Joan of Arcâ€, starring Ingrid Bergman, in 1948. When I was 7? And without my mother? I cried my eyes out when she was burned at the stake. (Maybe I saw it later in re-issue.) You can see it on DVD now â€" quite a spectacle. By 1953 there were no more double features and one of my great all-time memories is going with my pals to see “Stalag 17†every day twice a day for the entire week of our Easter vacation that year. We saw it fourteen times! And we knew every line by heart.
It really is a shame that there are so few single screen theatres any more. Going to the movies at a single screen theatre always seemed to be more of an occasion.
Memories of the Astor Theatre
I was assistant manager of the Astor for 2 ½ years from August 1962.
Tremont entrance: I doubt that the entrance could ever have been on Avery Street because only the back of the auditorium went to Avery, all the way back to the sidewalk, where there were emergency exits (which we used to exit audiences between showings of sold-out performances). The box office was located on the Tremont St. sidewalk, and the arcade leading into the inner lobby was at least 50 feet to the ticket taker. It was certainly unique, seeming to be something added on, but I can’t imagine where an ‘original’ entrance could have been otherwise.
The auditorium: I am confident that even with the second balcony there could never have been 2450 seats in that space (which Cinema Treasures lists) â€" especially as there about 1150+ when I worked there. Likely there had been a second balcony when the house was originally built but curiously all that remained was enough space for the ‘appearance’ of one. And there was no public stairway to get up there â€" just a ladder from behind the projection booth. I remember crawling up there one day and finding a treasure trove of old theatre programs scattered all over, going back to the 20’s and 30’s. (Oh, that only I had the presence of mind to have retrieved them!) We had about 900 seats on the main floor, with three seating sections, and five aisles. Each row and seat had letter/number tags on them â€"for the several reserved seat attractions that played there over the years (the first, “The Ten Commandments†in 1953; and the last, “The Longest Day†in 1962).
The Screen: Very likely there was never a larger movie screen in Boston, except for Cinerama (and possibly only one or two even in New York (The Rivoli, The Capitol). It was 51 feet and the only curved widescreen in the city, and it was built at floor level (The entire stage had been removed once the theatre was converted to a film house) with masking that went only about two feet above the floor). I recall that when we had completely sold-out performances of “The Longest Day†that the poor unfortunates sitting in the front rows looked like people at a tennis match, with heads swerving from left to right every time a subtitle appeared (which was frequently in that film â€" all the German and French actors spoke in their own languages). I don’t know what material it was made of, but there were countless thousands of pinholes in it, and one could clearly see the entire audience when standing behind it, looking out. (A fond memory: we played the Mel Brooks winning animated short “The Critic†in which Brooks was the voice of an audience member commenting on the abstract designs in the film. I often went behind the screen to observe the audience looking around to see who had shouted out “What the hell is this?â€, the first line of dialogue in that short, in Brooks’ own voice, after maybe fifteen seconds of harpsichord music accompaniment to moving abstract drawings.)
The projection equipment: the most up-to-date available in its day; and likely none better in any theatre in Boston â€" three 35/70mm Phillips projectors with carbon arc lamps, each equipped with magnetic sound capability, for the 4-track audio used in many films of that era â€" musicals such as “The Music Man†and “Bye Bye Birdieâ€, both of which played the Astor; and for “The Longest Dayâ€. These films, by the way, were 35mm prints with 70mm soundtracks I believe the projectors were installed in 1957, for the showing of the first Super Panavision 65mm film “Raintree Countyâ€. I think the last true 70mm film that played the Astor was shortly before I worked there, “El Cid†in 1962 â€" a reserved seat attraction, by the way.
The sound equipment: again, the best available in its day â€" all Altec speakers â€" three giant ones behind the screen (for magnetic stereo soundtracks) and a few placed at the very rear of the theatre â€" there were only 4 tracks back then, but the three screen tracks often had distinct separation of voices â€" even when actors walked across the picture, their voices would follow) When watching magtrack movies at the Astor, I always sat in a side section so I could hear the stereo separation more distinctly.
The ownership: I’m not certain of the range of dates, but sometime before and after I worked there the Astor was owned by a patrician elder named Dan Finn. He owned but two theatres â€" the first-run Astor and the second-run Coolidge Corner, in suburban Brookline. Readers of this website can be certain he was no longer the owner during the days of its decline. We were the main competitor for the then 5-theatre Sack chain, another one-man operation in Boston at that time. Sack had all the other reserved seat theatres in town, two other former legit houses (The Saxon – “Ben Hurâ€; The Gary – “Lawrence of Arabiaâ€; and The 4000-seat Music Hall – “Cleopatraâ€).[Did “Gigi†play reserved seats at the Beacon Hill?] In all modesty, none of his houses were as fine as the Astor â€" both “Ben Hur†and “Lawrence†would have been shown to far greater advantage at the Astor, for instance) but he had the clout of having several screens; and the deep pockets to put up the high guarantees such pictures commanded.
Performance schedule: All downtown Boston movie houses played continuous showings, beginning around 9 or 10 am, noon on Sunday), with the last screening rarely later than 9:30. We played as many performances as we could squeeze in, usually every two hours for shorter films â€" with usually only 15 minutes for “spill and fillâ€.
Concessions: As other posters mentioned, the Astor had a fine concession stand (just one); and our pride and joy was that we served pure butter only on our buttered popcorn â€" even back then most theatres used some ersatz product. I remember that every night I would put the butter into the fridge, and we constantly fed the dispenser with quarter-pound sticks of fresh LandOLakes butter during the day. I think we charged a quarter (one size only) â€" with three squirts of butter: one in the middle and two on top. Plain popcorn was 15 cents.
Admission prices: the day I began working (“The Music Manâ€) was the first day that the Astor had the highest price in town – $1.80, weekday evenings and two dollars (!) on Friday and Saturday. (I don’t recall any complaints.) The previous high in Boston had been $1.50.
Film bookings: In that era, before multiplexes, all movies opened on one screen in downtown Boston and played as long as business warranted, before moving on to second run houses in the suburbs. Except for a few dry weeks during my two years at the Astor, when we played re-issue double bills (Hitchcock’s “Vertigo†and “The Man Who Knew Too Muchâ€, for instance â€" and both in wonderful VistaVision â€" was there ever a better film technique? â€" we probably played fewer than a dozen movies. Some of our most memorable, in addition to those mentioned above: “Seven Days in Mayâ€, “The Night of the Iguanaâ€, “Under the Yum Yum Tree†(only because the run began the first day we re-opened after the Kennedy assassination â€" all theatres went dark for three days â€" and which sold out every performance the entire weekend.); and especially “Dr. Strangeloveâ€, which Columbia Pictures postponed from its original release date because of the assassination. It was an absolute sensation when it played the Astor, especially because of its appeal to the younger college-age crowd (of which I was one then).
The big white billboard sign above the marquee: It was the property of the theatre and we always used it to promote important pictures that played there, sometimes many weeks in advance of their run.
The demise: When I left the Astor, I left Boston so I don’t have any accurate information about when it went into decline, for how long, and why. I recall that after its closing there had been a serious fire there; and of course now the Loews Commons colossus stands on the very site today.
Fond memories of my first real job.