A friend told me of the coming closure of the Hastings so, out of curiosity, I joined her Saturday afternoon to see “The Simpsons Movie†there. It was playing in one of the cracker box add-on rooms, but before the show we ventured into the big room, or “once big room,†to see what time and corporate greed hath wrought. It was sad indeed. I recalled the many times I had enjoyed great films in 70mm in that house on its giant curved screen.
I wish there was a way to keep the Hastings alive as I and many other knew it, but I know this is impossible. At least I can say I enjoyed it when it was a real first run theatre and was on hand when it sank into the oblivion of cinema history. RIP showmanship!
Upon viewing the club’s web site, not only is the Variety Theatre’s marquee shown, but also there is a floor plan of the facility that suggests the front of the auditorium may have survived.
The Mayan Theatre was part of Francisco Fouce’s chain of Mexican film venues when I worked there as relief propjectionist in the 1950s. The booth’s main entrance was via an outside stairway on the south side that served also as a fire escape. Upon entering the door, one climbed a long steel stairway, suspended in an vast open attic space, to a landing and the booth door. Equipment was first rate, and both the maroon main drape and the gold title curtain were motorized and operable from the booth, though the house lights were not on a dimmer. The emergency exit from the booth was at the north end, via a trapdoor in the floor and a ladder on the wall down to the last row of balcony seats, there being no seat at the ladder’s location. The Fouce people saw the Mayan as the crown jewel in the chain, and lavished much care on it.
When I worked for Francisco Fouce in the 1950s, the Mason was part of his stable of Mexican film venues. The booth was at the back of the upper balcony, which was closed to the public, and accessible from Spring Street, but apparently not from the Main Street side. The then regular projectionist told me that when the theatre was built, this feature separated the top balcony with its very cheap seats from the more elegant and upscale lower balcony and mezzanine with their more upscale clientele.
I was told that the theatre was built as the Mason Opera House and its iron proscenium support beam was fabricated in the east and came to LA via sailing ship. Even if this is not true, it makes a wonderful tale…
I’ve forgotten tha amperage of the lamps, but I do recall that they had water-cooled jaws. The water cooling apparatus looked not unlike today’s equipment for water-cooled gates.
When I moved to Monrovia in 1977 the Lyric (Crest) was still standing. I recall that its demolition was a long and difficult job as the building was poured-in-place reinforced concrete, and the local paper noted that the reason for demolition was that the building was seismically unsafe!
A bit of the Lyric remains – its WurliTzer 2-manual organ is installed in the auditorium of Monrovia High School.
After the closure of the Lux Theatre in LA and the Granada Theatre in LA, Harold Wenzler operated the Oaks Theatre in Pasadena, and I worked for him as relief projectionist. Like Mr. Wenzler’s other venues, the Oaks catered to a down-scale clientele, but he insisted upon the best in showmanship.
While I cannot say for sure, I believe the Oaks was built by Warners as an early talkie house.
In the 1950s the Million Dollar was operated by Francisco Fouce, who also operated the Mason Theatre and the Mayan Theatre in LA, and I worked as relief projectionist in all three.
The booth of the Million Dollar was apparently an afterthought, as it was located at the front center of the balcony. Thus the ceiling sloped down toard the front affording barely 6' of headroom at the front wall. When I worked there, new Century projectors and sound heads had been installed, but connected to the original WE sound fader and amplifier.
When the Million Dollar hosted stage shows along with a first run Mexican film, the projectionist was the followspot operator. I recall one night the legendary Argentina La Marca was appearing, and the angry stage manager called me on the house phone to demand that I use a straw gel in the spotlight as the naked arc was making her face an ashen color. I warmed up the color and Ms. La Marca appeared years younger.
This house was a neighbor of the somewhat more upscale Arlington Theatre. As a child I loved to attend the Western matinees there.
Once, in my early 20s, I went to the Maynard to see a retrospective film not showing elsewhere in the city, and I visited the booth out of curiosity and struck up a conversation with the projectionist. Like many older houses in LA, the floor, walls and ceiling were metal-clad, but the booth was remarkably quiet considering.
The Lux Theatre was operated by Harold Wenzler and I worked there as relief projectionist right after I got my LA City license. Mr. Wenzler, while down at the heel, nevertheless insisted upon the best possible presentation. Altec Sound Service ensured that the elderly booth equipment worked well (Simplex standard heads on WE universal bases with Strong lamphouses (of the same type that were sold with 16mm “auditorium projectors” at that time) with tungar bulb rectifiers on the floor beneath each lamphouse.
When the Lux bit the dust with the redevlopment of Bunker Hill, Mr. Wenzler leased the Granada Theatre on Temple Street.
The Jade Theatre on Main Street was run by the owner of the Cozy Theatre on Broadway, and I worked as relief projectionist there in the early 1950s. It was a sparsely furnished place that catered more to the wino trade than to movie goers, but the booth, with Super Simplexes and a Simplex sound system, and Magnarc lamps, was clean and well maintained. One night the dc power to the lamphouses failed, but AC power remained on. As there were no recifiers in the booth, I went down to the dirt-floor, brick-walled basement and found that the theatre was served at 125Vdc from the Department of Water and Power. Beneath the kw-h meter was an open fused switch and beneath the switch a ballast resistor for each lamp. The renewable link fuse was blown, so I replaced it with a new link and we were back in business. I later found that DWP still served many downtown buildings at 125Vdc for elevator power.
The Granada was leased for a time by Harold Wenzler, who also operated the Lux Theatre until it was razed, and later operated the Oaks Theatre in Pasadena.
I worked as a relief projectionist at the Granada in the late 1950s. The booth was far from modern, but Mr. Wenzler had Altec Sound Service on contract for maintenance, and the presentation was always first rate.
The Cozy Theatre was across the street from Grauman’s Million Dollar. As noted, it was small and narrow, but it was clean and well maintained by its owner, a Mr. Levinson. In the early 1950s I met its then projectionist, an elderly gentleman named Mr. White, and he taught me to be a projectionist and coached me so that I passed the gruelling Los Angeles City propjectionist’s lilcense text in my first try! The neat-as-a-pin booth had the latest Brenkert projectors, sondheads and Enarc lamps.
This theatre was part of the famed Ambassador Hotel, and was intended to serve hotel guests, though many neighborhood locals went there also. I surmise it was built in the waelr 1920s as it had a WurliTzer pipe organ. A Lutheran congregation that was building its new church rented the theatre on Sunday mornings during the 1960s for its worship services, and my mother was hired as organist. Her worst fear was inadvertantly engaging any of the toy counter stops!
All seats were high-backed leather loges that one found in the loge sections of major theatres in the area – very comfortable.
Gene, your grandfather was a gentlemen and a showman. E-mail me at and I will respond.
A friend told me of the coming closure of the Hastings so, out of curiosity, I joined her Saturday afternoon to see “The Simpsons Movie†there. It was playing in one of the cracker box add-on rooms, but before the show we ventured into the big room, or “once big room,†to see what time and corporate greed hath wrought. It was sad indeed. I recalled the many times I had enjoyed great films in 70mm in that house on its giant curved screen.
I wish there was a way to keep the Hastings alive as I and many other knew it, but I know this is impossible. At least I can say I enjoyed it when it was a real first run theatre and was on hand when it sank into the oblivion of cinema history. RIP showmanship!
Upon viewing the club’s web site, not only is the Variety Theatre’s marquee shown, but also there is a floor plan of the facility that suggests the front of the auditorium may have survived.
Indeed this theatre still shows silent movies. Visit www.silentmovietheatre.com for a schedule of films and a photo tour. It is well worth a visit!
The Mayan Theatre was part of Francisco Fouce’s chain of Mexican film venues when I worked there as relief propjectionist in the 1950s. The booth’s main entrance was via an outside stairway on the south side that served also as a fire escape. Upon entering the door, one climbed a long steel stairway, suspended in an vast open attic space, to a landing and the booth door. Equipment was first rate, and both the maroon main drape and the gold title curtain were motorized and operable from the booth, though the house lights were not on a dimmer. The emergency exit from the booth was at the north end, via a trapdoor in the floor and a ladder on the wall down to the last row of balcony seats, there being no seat at the ladder’s location. The Fouce people saw the Mayan as the crown jewel in the chain, and lavished much care on it.
When I worked for Francisco Fouce in the 1950s, the Mason was part of his stable of Mexican film venues. The booth was at the back of the upper balcony, which was closed to the public, and accessible from Spring Street, but apparently not from the Main Street side. The then regular projectionist told me that when the theatre was built, this feature separated the top balcony with its very cheap seats from the more elegant and upscale lower balcony and mezzanine with their more upscale clientele.
I was told that the theatre was built as the Mason Opera House and its iron proscenium support beam was fabricated in the east and came to LA via sailing ship. Even if this is not true, it makes a wonderful tale…
I’ve forgotten tha amperage of the lamps, but I do recall that they had water-cooled jaws. The water cooling apparatus looked not unlike today’s equipment for water-cooled gates.
When I moved to Monrovia in 1977 the Lyric (Crest) was still standing. I recall that its demolition was a long and difficult job as the building was poured-in-place reinforced concrete, and the local paper noted that the reason for demolition was that the building was seismically unsafe!
A bit of the Lyric remains – its WurliTzer 2-manual organ is installed in the auditorium of Monrovia High School.
After the closure of the Lux Theatre in LA and the Granada Theatre in LA, Harold Wenzler operated the Oaks Theatre in Pasadena, and I worked for him as relief projectionist. Like Mr. Wenzler’s other venues, the Oaks catered to a down-scale clientele, but he insisted upon the best in showmanship.
While I cannot say for sure, I believe the Oaks was built by Warners as an early talkie house.
In the 1950s the Million Dollar was operated by Francisco Fouce, who also operated the Mason Theatre and the Mayan Theatre in LA, and I worked as relief projectionist in all three.
The booth of the Million Dollar was apparently an afterthought, as it was located at the front center of the balcony. Thus the ceiling sloped down toard the front affording barely 6' of headroom at the front wall. When I worked there, new Century projectors and sound heads had been installed, but connected to the original WE sound fader and amplifier.
When the Million Dollar hosted stage shows along with a first run Mexican film, the projectionist was the followspot operator. I recall one night the legendary Argentina La Marca was appearing, and the angry stage manager called me on the house phone to demand that I use a straw gel in the spotlight as the naked arc was making her face an ashen color. I warmed up the color and Ms. La Marca appeared years younger.
This house was a neighbor of the somewhat more upscale Arlington Theatre. As a child I loved to attend the Western matinees there.
Once, in my early 20s, I went to the Maynard to see a retrospective film not showing elsewhere in the city, and I visited the booth out of curiosity and struck up a conversation with the projectionist. Like many older houses in LA, the floor, walls and ceiling were metal-clad, but the booth was remarkably quiet considering.
The Lux Theatre was operated by Harold Wenzler and I worked there as relief projectionist right after I got my LA City license. Mr. Wenzler, while down at the heel, nevertheless insisted upon the best possible presentation. Altec Sound Service ensured that the elderly booth equipment worked well (Simplex standard heads on WE universal bases with Strong lamphouses (of the same type that were sold with 16mm “auditorium projectors” at that time) with tungar bulb rectifiers on the floor beneath each lamphouse.
When the Lux bit the dust with the redevlopment of Bunker Hill, Mr. Wenzler leased the Granada Theatre on Temple Street.
The Jade Theatre on Main Street was run by the owner of the Cozy Theatre on Broadway, and I worked as relief projectionist there in the early 1950s. It was a sparsely furnished place that catered more to the wino trade than to movie goers, but the booth, with Super Simplexes and a Simplex sound system, and Magnarc lamps, was clean and well maintained. One night the dc power to the lamphouses failed, but AC power remained on. As there were no recifiers in the booth, I went down to the dirt-floor, brick-walled basement and found that the theatre was served at 125Vdc from the Department of Water and Power. Beneath the kw-h meter was an open fused switch and beneath the switch a ballast resistor for each lamp. The renewable link fuse was blown, so I replaced it with a new link and we were back in business. I later found that DWP still served many downtown buildings at 125Vdc for elevator power.
The Granada was leased for a time by Harold Wenzler, who also operated the Lux Theatre until it was razed, and later operated the Oaks Theatre in Pasadena.
I worked as a relief projectionist at the Granada in the late 1950s. The booth was far from modern, but Mr. Wenzler had Altec Sound Service on contract for maintenance, and the presentation was always first rate.
The Cozy Theatre was across the street from Grauman’s Million Dollar. As noted, it was small and narrow, but it was clean and well maintained by its owner, a Mr. Levinson. In the early 1950s I met its then projectionist, an elderly gentleman named Mr. White, and he taught me to be a projectionist and coached me so that I passed the gruelling Los Angeles City propjectionist’s lilcense text in my first try! The neat-as-a-pin booth had the latest Brenkert projectors, sondheads and Enarc lamps.
I attended this theatre as a child in the late 1940s. It was a bit nicer than the Maynard Theatre one block east on Washington Blvd.
When it closed as a theatre, someone opened a skating rink in the building. That business has long since been closed.
As of today, the building stands vacant.
This theatre was part of the famed Ambassador Hotel, and was intended to serve hotel guests, though many neighborhood locals went there also. I surmise it was built in the waelr 1920s as it had a WurliTzer pipe organ. A Lutheran congregation that was building its new church rented the theatre on Sunday mornings during the 1960s for its worship services, and my mother was hired as organist. Her worst fear was inadvertantly engaging any of the toy counter stops!
All seats were high-backed leather loges that one found in the loge sections of major theatres in the area – very comfortable.
-Gordon