One day in 1972, I was walking up Third Avenue when I noticed something new in the neighborhood. On the corner of Third and 57th Street, there was a large display of red, white and blue balloons outside the office of a presidential candidate.
The window display labeled the corner storefront as the headquarters of Bill McKay. The candidate bore a suspicious resemblance to Robert Redford.
Inside, a pretty young girl handed me three balloons and some campaign literature. I helped myself to a slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee. Glancing at the campaign handout, I was puzzled by its lack of opinion. McKay seemed to be all image and little substance.
Leaving the “headquarters,†I glanced across the street to see what was playing at The Sutton. The marquee advertised The Candidate, starring Robert Redford. Suddenly, it all made sense.
The Trylon was a lovely little art deco gem. Like The Elmwood, it had to be playing smething good to lure me into the subway from Forest Hills.
My grandmother was in charge of all “light music” at the 1939 Worlds Fair and I have an interest in all the artifacts of that exhibition. This includes the Trylon and I’m heartbroken to see its slow, sad demise.
The Elmwood was a magnificent theater. I lived in Forest Hills and we had The Midway, Forest Hills, Inwood (later; Cinemart) and Continental so ot had to be a good movie to be worth a subway ride.
I recall the stars on the ceiling and castle on the walls from my earliest visits to The Elnwood. Later on, the theater was much more plain after it had become what I think was a triple.
The Cinemart was a treasure back when it ran films for a buck. As a kid, I recall seeing classic cimedies there like Chaplin’s The Gold Rush and The Marx Brothers in A Day At The Races and A Night At The Opera.
After one renovation, probably in the sixties, the Cinemart’s first floor was re-designed with illuminated portraits of silent era movie stars.
What is now Eddie’s Sweet Shop used to be Witt’s Ice Cream. I remember elderly Mr and Mrs Witt who seemed to have stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Their ice cream was all hand made in the back of the store.
I well recall the Forest Hills Theater. It was a very well run movie house which ran mainstream films and “art” films before the art market was taken over by the Continental.
The Forest Hils always had a slightly more discriminating audience that that of the popular Midway around the corner. Here I saw many of the great films of the sixties and seventies.
I seem to recall that the rather small lobby was red.
My family moved to Forest Hills in 1956. The movie theaters back then were The Forest Hills on Austin Street, The Midway on Queens Boulevard and a bit later, The Cinemart on Metropolitan Avenue. The Continental opened in the early sixties on Continental Avenue and eventually had a second screen across the street from itself.
The Midway was my favorite theater and was the one at which I fell in love with the movies. I well remember the theater in its single screen glory. The pseudo-deco, black, red and gold lobby, the graceful staircases, the wide auditorium with its sweeping, curved screen. The way the curtains parted as the film began…I also recall the coming attractions screen above the main exit door in the lobby. And popcorn. Hot, fresh popcorn with real butter. And lots of it. Snocaps. Goobers, Raisinettes. And you got change back.
I also recall the box office which was outside, under the front of the marquee in it’s own little enclosure. I remember the elderly woman who worked the box office and the friendly, talkitive doorman who treated kids as real people.
Among Midway movies, I recall West Side Story (1961), The Music Man (1962) and many assorted Disney features.
We remained in Forest Hills unti, the late eighties. I sometimes went to The Midway but it was a bit dispiriting to see the once splendid theater divided in quarters and less than well maintained.
I’m glad to read that The Midway, even as a nine-plex, is alive and well.
One day in 1972, I was walking up Third Avenue when I noticed something new in the neighborhood. On the corner of Third and 57th Street, there was a large display of red, white and blue balloons outside the office of a presidential candidate.
The window display labeled the corner storefront as the headquarters of Bill McKay. The candidate bore a suspicious resemblance to Robert Redford.
Inside, a pretty young girl handed me three balloons and some campaign literature. I helped myself to a slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee. Glancing at the campaign handout, I was puzzled by its lack of opinion. McKay seemed to be all image and little substance.
Leaving the “headquarters,†I glanced across the street to see what was playing at The Sutton. The marquee advertised The Candidate, starring Robert Redford. Suddenly, it all made sense.
I used to have a friend who lived at 58 West 8th, just down the block from the theatre. I remember seeing Yellow Submarine there.
The Trylon was a lovely little art deco gem. Like The Elmwood, it had to be playing smething good to lure me into the subway from Forest Hills.
My grandmother was in charge of all “light music” at the 1939 Worlds Fair and I have an interest in all the artifacts of that exhibition. This includes the Trylon and I’m heartbroken to see its slow, sad demise.
The Elmwood was a magnificent theater. I lived in Forest Hills and we had The Midway, Forest Hills, Inwood (later; Cinemart) and Continental so ot had to be a good movie to be worth a subway ride.
I recall the stars on the ceiling and castle on the walls from my earliest visits to The Elnwood. Later on, the theater was much more plain after it had become what I think was a triple.
Better a church than torn down.
The Cinemart was a treasure back when it ran films for a buck. As a kid, I recall seeing classic cimedies there like Chaplin’s The Gold Rush and The Marx Brothers in A Day At The Races and A Night At The Opera.
After one renovation, probably in the sixties, the Cinemart’s first floor was re-designed with illuminated portraits of silent era movie stars.
What is now Eddie’s Sweet Shop used to be Witt’s Ice Cream. I remember elderly Mr and Mrs Witt who seemed to have stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Their ice cream was all hand made in the back of the store.
I well recall the Forest Hills Theater. It was a very well run movie house which ran mainstream films and “art” films before the art market was taken over by the Continental.
The Forest Hils always had a slightly more discriminating audience that that of the popular Midway around the corner. Here I saw many of the great films of the sixties and seventies.
I seem to recall that the rather small lobby was red.
Jp
My family moved to Forest Hills in 1956. The movie theaters back then were The Forest Hills on Austin Street, The Midway on Queens Boulevard and a bit later, The Cinemart on Metropolitan Avenue. The Continental opened in the early sixties on Continental Avenue and eventually had a second screen across the street from itself.
The Midway was my favorite theater and was the one at which I fell in love with the movies. I well remember the theater in its single screen glory. The pseudo-deco, black, red and gold lobby, the graceful staircases, the wide auditorium with its sweeping, curved screen. The way the curtains parted as the film began…I also recall the coming attractions screen above the main exit door in the lobby. And popcorn. Hot, fresh popcorn with real butter. And lots of it. Snocaps. Goobers, Raisinettes. And you got change back.
I also recall the box office which was outside, under the front of the marquee in it’s own little enclosure. I remember the elderly woman who worked the box office and the friendly, talkitive doorman who treated kids as real people.
Among Midway movies, I recall West Side Story (1961), The Music Man (1962) and many assorted Disney features.
We remained in Forest Hills unti, the late eighties. I sometimes went to The Midway but it was a bit dispiriting to see the once splendid theater divided in quarters and less than well maintained.
I’m glad to read that The Midway, even as a nine-plex, is alive and well.
Jp