I would absolutely second any of the choices mentioned above, and add two theaters that are great examples of ambitious renovation: the IFC Center in Greenwich Village, formerly the Waverly (http://www.ifccenter.com/index) and the Landmark Sunshine Theater on the Lower East Side, formerly a Yiddish vaudeville theater, then warehouse (http://www.landmarktheatres.com/market/NewYork/SunshineCinema.htm).
See Stanley Crouch’s column of March 27 in the NY Daily News regarding a proposed interactive Jazz Museum bidding for the use of the Victoria (against several hotel chains…. who, I’m guessing, would be much less likely to preserve the existing strucure in any meaningful way…)
You guys have showmanship in your blood… I practically heard the drumroll underneath your announcement! I am most definitely keeping the weekend of April 8-10 open… and I’m spreading the word starting NOW.
Warren— “those” people, any people, will spend subway fare to come to an exclusive presentation, a lauded film, or an event that’s properly promoted. Today’s NYC population is fairly cosmopolitan and few folks stay cooped up in their own neighborhoods, unless they are elderly and/or really destitute. And I think Ross Melnick is right, if this is really about being an exclusive first-run showcase for international Latino cinema, then it could attract the culture mavens who attend international/ethnic film festivals at venues such as Lincoln Center and Film Forum. Having said that, I think that proper marketing is the key. Without that, practically nothing in this crazy town lasts for long.
This is an interesting trend brewing here… the old D.W. Griffith on 59th Street has become the Imaginasian, on a similar mission to showcase new Asian cinema. It’s a gamble, but I’m heartened by the effort by both parties. Here’s to international cinema in NYC!
Orlando, re. corporations “celebrating” 100 years is such a cynical joke, amen to that. And I can’t believe this theatre had murals by Will Pogany…. up till now, I only knew his work from a single book I own which he illustrated, Padraic Colum’s “The Children of Odin” which is a retelling of Norse myths for “kids”, a book I’ve treasured since my own childhood. The thought that he had murals in a city theatre, in my old borough, and that they are gone makes me nauseous. Oh well… I came upon this page while cross-referencing for theaters designed by Eugene DeRosa, because I’ve just visited his Lafayette Theater in Suffern, NY for a wonderful Sci-Fi Festival. At least that one is cherished by its current owners. It’s still there, and it looks and feels like dream, which takes only some of the sting out of learning of the loss of this one.
Bob, I agree completely, only I do think the Forum’s repertoire programs are good… only not as ambitious as they used to be, and wasted in those claustrophobic “rooms”. The only real excuse for the Film Forum is it’s socially convenient to the Manhattanites it caters to. See the hot-topic indie film with some friends, go to the coffee bar to discuss. But now anyone with a home theaters can put on a comparable show for their friends, with the added convenience of trips to the fridge!
What’s a crime is that in the biggest city in the country, the world capital of media, the former home of the Roxy and hundreds of smaller local palaces, where Loews closes the Astor Plaza IN THEIR CENTENNIAL YEAR and lets their former gems The Kings and the Paradise rot empty with neglect, we have lost the experience of the movie palace. To rediscover it in Suffern is a great joy. My challenge is to convince my friends in this “on demand” impulse-buy world to cough up the extra money and time for the NJT train ride. But I should think the bonus Wurlitzer “concert” alone is worth it!!!
I saw that the Lafayette is screening the Lon Chaney version of “Phantom of the Opera” on October 28. Now that should be an experience that just can’t be duplicated anywhere else in the tristate area (except mebbe the UCAC… I have to check that place out). With the Wurlitzer, The Laffayette is in a position to revive the 1920s moviegoing experience which all the great old palaces were actually designed for… the sumptuous presentation of silents. How about a weekend program of the greatest “forgotten” silents, such as the Douglas Fairbanks swashbucklers? Kino has just issued a remastered edition of “The Black Pirate” on DVD, which I think was the first full-length Technicolor feature. It would be cool if Nelson Page could get a “premiere” screening deal with a company like Kino to showcase their repertoire before they put them out on the retail market (hint hint)…
Yesterday was one of those perfect days, speaking as a Cinema Treasures aficionado, because I’d purchased a day pass to the Sci-Fi Festival at the Lafayette. Perfect. From my short, pleasant train ride from NYC to an unfamiliar but pleasant small town against the backdrop of rocky but wooded hills, to the de-lish pancakes ala Rockland (w/fresh spiced apple and walnuts in the batter) at the suitably space-age-exteriored Rockland Diner down the road from the theater, to having enough time between shows to casually stroll around to soak up the authentic small town commercial district vibe (they coulda shot “The Blob” here!), to being able to watch the slightly worn but wonderfully preserved marquee (“SCI-FI WEEKEND”) come to life as the day dimmed, to the vintage lobby posters, to watching gorgeous prints of some of my all-time favorite flicks on a big screen (one thing the otherwise admirable Film Forum in Manhattan can’t provide) but most of all I will not forget that moment when I climbed the short carpeted stairwell from the lobby into the soft amber twillight of the great auditorium in its gold and teal and wine-red shades, its glittering rows of opera boxes, the Tiffany-style chandelier, serenaded by a sound I’d never heard before in my life: the mighty Lafayette Wurlitzer…. wow, wow, wow. I’m not ashamed to say it brought a lump to my throat; I thought I’d never have a real movie palace experience again anywhere in the greater metro area, what with all the losses NYC has suffered over the years, the Astor Plaza being the freshest in my mind. My thanks to the owners and managers and programmers and Wurlitzer-players of the Lafayette for a truly memorable day. I’ll be back for the Classics series with as many pals as I can muster!
The Eighth Street Playhouse, the Bleeker Street Cinema and Art D'Lugoff’s nightclub the Village Gate were vibrant hallmarks of my Greenwich Village college days, and I sadly admit that at the time, not that long ago, I took them completely for granted. I thought they’d be around for at least another generation or two! The groovy curved facade of Electric Ladyland Studios (where Hendrix once recorded) next door to the Playhouse has also been completely altered. The main floor of the video store is what is left of the auditorium; turn around after you walk into the middle of the store and you will see the old projection booth above the entrance, complete with the tiny projection windows.
There is a really interesting tidbit of history regarding the old Film Guild Cinema in David Skal’s book on the cinematic Dracula, “Hollwood Gothic.” Apparently this was the venue for the American premiere of F.W. Murnau’s “Nosferatu” in June 1929; according to Skal, the Film Guild was part of a “little” art cinema movement which arose in reaction to the commercial palaces like the Roxy. The screen of the Film Guild Cinema was surrounded by a CIRCULAR proscenium called a “screenoscope”, with adjustable curved scrims rather than conventional drape curtains, giving the screen the appearance of a giant cat’s eye!! It has to be seen to be believed; fortunately Skal reproduces a rare shot of the interior in his book. Unlike the lavish movie palaces of the 20s (which of course I also love), the original Film Guild interior suggested not the sentimental exoticism of faraway countries and epochs, but the cool mystery and futurism of the art of cinema itself: the projection and perception of black and white, light and shadow. What a place to see Nosferatu for the first time!
I guess I’ll throw my two cents into the Great Astor Plaza Memorial Discussion. While there’s a special place in my heart for the golden age palaces, the more modern Astor Plaza and Ziegfeld are truly the theatres of my youth. The most vivid movie-going experiences of my life happened in the big cozy room of the Astor. Everyone seems to remember the opening sequence of “Star Wars”, with the intro crawl and the Star Destroyer roaring overhead. How about the STANDING OVATION the jump into hyperspace used to get? The nervous laughter as the growl of the Death Star trash compactor monster rippled 360 degrees around the audience in gut-rumbling Dolby? “ Is there something alive in here?” I did my first movie war-whooping during the asteroid chase in “the Empire Strikes Back,” was first dazzled by the credit-sequence of “Superman”, thrilled to the Old Testament lightning spearing the Nazis at the end of “Raiders of the Lost Ark”… all at the Astor.
Here’s a thought. Hollywood stars like to imagine that they can a big difference in the world… well here’s Samuel Jackson’s chance to do some good. I’ve heard him reminisce more than once on talk shows how blown away he was when he caught “Star Wars” at the Astor Plaza back in the day, and so felt honored to star in the prequels and become part of the heritage…. someone should tap him on the shoulder and let him know he can help save a piece of his own heritage as a young impressionable wannabe in NYC… maybe the Astor can become the flagship of the Jackson Cineplex Chain? Just a thought…
I think the theater should be identified here as the RKO Keith’s in Richmond Hill, since that is how residents remember it, and mostly because anyone walking by today would see the grand original marquee proudly displaying “RKO Keith’s."Granted it could cause confusion with its better known cousin in Flushing. I "discovered” this theater online while browsing through the Richmond Hill Historical Society’s website after coming back home from a Saturday afternoon stroll through the neighborghood’s jaw-dropping Victorian splendor. I had missed the Keith’s (as well as Jahn’s Ice Cream Parlor next door) not having gone down the length of Hillside but plan on getting back there as soon as possible. The Society has a couple of pages on the Keith’s which should be of great interest to visitors of Cinema Treasures. One documents in photos the unveiling of the original intact marquee under the later sheet-metal one by the film crew of the movie “The Guru” which did location shooting there and eneded up using the old marquee in ther shots. The other has a 1939 photo of marquee and local Legion post marching band at the opening of the double-feature “Grand Illusion” and “Wife, Husband and Friend.” Maybe your webmaster can get permission to use one of these shots for this page?
Was this the theater that screened Disney classics every summer? That was a mainstay of my growing up in the 60s. I do know for sure that theater was in Parkchester.
Funny, yesterday I was reminiscing about my childhood in the South Bronx in the 60s and 70s when I left a comment for the President Theater of Westchester Avenue. So of course I did a search for my beloved Prospect Theater on this site, as I’d done many times before, and once again come up empty -handed. I never dreamed it had been restored and renamed! When I searched on the Web, I was directed back to this page, and got a big surprise. I immediately recognized the interior, especially the big double columns on either side of the stage. I remember vividly keeping one eye on the screen and the other on the door situated behind the columns because I knew that at a certain point one of the uniformed ushers would emerge with a stack of ice cream cups (remember the little wooden spoons?) to sell to the kiddies from the sidelines, while the film was in progress. In retrospect it was a smart thing for the management to do; it kept us quiet as we licked away!
I lived in the McKinley Houses on Tinton Avenue a few blocks north of the theater; the Prospect was definitely my household’s social hub. There was a time in the late 60s when it seemed we were at the theater every Sunday to catch the latest Mexican mariachi western starring the great Antonio Aguilar, or Jorge Negrete, or Luis Aguilar (relation to Antonio?) who in particular had a gift for comedy as well as being a a romantic lead, and of course, being mariachis they could all sing their hearts out besides being great horsemen and two-fisted champions of good. We were Puerto Rican but I always felt my dad had a Mexican soul; he loved those movies so. My mom went for the romantic comedies and dramas starring the latest Latino pop idols: Raphael, Sandro, and later Julio Iglesias. Ialso remember seeing movie treatments of popular Latino soap operas. Unlike their American counterparts, these soaps were more like long-running miniseries, structured like novels with beginnings, middles, and endings. Of course, my brother and I loved best the masked Mexican wrestlers, who fought in the ring by day and battled master criminals, zombies, Aztec mummies and vampires by night (El Santo, the Silver-masked One, even had a secret laboratory and hot convertible sportscar, kind of like a south-of-the-border Batman). So while we went further afield (Fordham Road, Eastside Manhattan, Times Square) to catch the Hollywood blockbusters, we were nurtured by the Prospect, now the Olympic, on a week to week basis. Needless to say I’m going to have to come visit the old neighborhood after nearly 30 years to pay my respects and relive old times.
What was unique about this theater was it’s very primitiveness. No balcony, and I distinctly remember seeing a crisscross of wooden beams high above in the gloom. I remember wondering why it didn’t have all the architectural detailing the other theaters had. While the Paradise was a palace, this was the other end of the scale, like a big barn, which was kind of interesting in its own way.
Thanks, Warren, that’s sounds right… the Valentine. Surfing this site is like undergoing deep memory recovery! See my other comment for The President Theater, Cinema Treasure 6094. That one was way waaay downtown in the South Bronx, quite a different world, but part of my childhood nonetheless.
This seems to me to be the theater I remember as “El Presidente” under the El and around corner from the more elegant Prospect Theater. These were the weekend entertainment staples for the local Latino community, showing Spanish language films, mostly from Mexico. Between the Mexican wrestler / horror schlock films at the Prospect and the very first wave of imported Hong Kong kung-fu flicks at the President (when it switched to English-language, dubbed or otherwise) in the 70s (I saw Five Fingers of Death at the President, as well as all the Bruce Lee movies as they were first released) I received a very Quentin Tarantino-esque “education” in classic 70s exploitation genres! All this was balanced fairly well by trips uptown to the Loew’s Paradise and the RKO Fordham for more wholesome fare, and in retrospect I wouldn’t trade any of it. But if only I’d grown up to exploit the exploitation era as successfully as Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez have!
I remember the Fordham and the Paradise well. But what was the name of the smaller more modern theater down the road by the elevated subway (Woodlawn line)? My dad took me there for a surprise visit on my birthday to see Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Of course I ruined the day by stealing some of my baby brother’s candy and he let out with such wailing we were ejected from the theater. I never saw the ending until it was show on TV years later and I barely cared because I was in junior high!
When I was a kid in the 60s and 70s Fordham Road at the Grand Concourse was indeed the place to shop. I remember getting a first real sense of “cosmopolitan” there. Grand Concourse had an almost European stateliness, and the Paradise was the crowning jewel there, even at that late a date. My dad, now a simple barber in semi-retirement in Florida, took a hairstyling course at the ABC styling school right up the block from the theater, back in the 70s heydey of Warren Beatty’s “Shampoo” and the John Travolta blown-back D.A. A few years before he had taken me to see The Ten Commandments there on the annual Easter screening, one of my formative experiences. The theater was still a single screen at the time, and it was quite a spectacle to see the teeming multitudes in the orchestra level below (we were late so could only get balcony seats, but that was allright by me). The place was packed, and I have never seen a movie theater audience of that size ever again, not even for the later blockbusters. It was all spectacle, on the screen, in the great room, on the ceiling, in the monstrous lobby. I vaguely recall satyrs and maidens along balustraded grand staircases and mezzanines. Within a few years the Paradise (as well as the RKO Fordham around the on corner on Fordham Road) had been divvied up, but I was yet able to get a sense of the old grandeur, much diminished, one last time. I took my kid brother to see an Art Carney movie, “The Late Show,” which was playing in the main room on the old balcony level. The collonades on the sides and the sky ceiling were still there, but unlit. That old view of the orchestra was sealed off by a black floor, giving the sense of a bottomless pit. The biggest thrill my brother and I got that day was a teaser trailer for the forthcoming Ralph Bakshi version of The Lord of the Rings!!! complete with ominous Wagnerian music and choirs. No images, just music, crawling type on a black background, and the logo. My personal last thrill at the Loew’s Paradise.
Reading the postings and the articles here is killing me. This theater is, for me, the living embodiment of what this website is all about: the hope and dream of salvaging a past that is so near for many of us and yet so far. If they do reopen the Paradise, I’m there on the first night. I don’t care if it’s a church service or a Salsa concert. Just to relive such a gorious part of my childhood will probably have me blubbering like a baby.
This place was one of my personal faves… like many of the old NYC revival houses it offered a less than ideal viewing experience (long and narrow like a shoebox and barely a floor slant to speak of… I’m getting claustrophobic even as I sit here recalling it, but hey, that was all part of the expereience: we were roughing it for art’s sake), it nevertheless was my second college, offering a terrific education in classic world cinema. I got my first dose of Bergman, Kurosawa, Fassinder and others here. In terms of historic cinema really only the Film Forum is continuing the legacy in New York these days; it’s sad. If I were a filmaker I’d create an homage to the bygone days of the truly bohemian Bleeker Street. My characters would meet at the Bleeker Street Cinema, argue about the movies over espressos at Le Figaro and end the evening getting blasted over martinis at the Village Gate while Dizzy Gillespie and Tito Puente jam onstage. No wait, that would be followed by a heavy and meaningful lovemaking scene back at the “pad.”
In 2001 I moved into Rego Park, the neighborhood “next door†to Elmhurst, and “discovered†the Elmwood Theatre for myself on my first walk to the Queen’s Center mall. I have since watched with dismay what seemed like the slow death of yet another New York treasure. I could never bring myself to see any of the movies that played there while it was still open; from the shabby treatment of the exterior (marquee, lobby and ticket booth encased in cheap generic siding) I got a sense that the interior was probably trashed beyond hope; what did give me some hope that this grand old dame might survive was the news in these commentaries. I just passd the theatre this afternoon and saw that the sidwalk around it is now boarded off. Is this a sign of renovation or demolition?
P.S., another local “ghost†theater I have kept my eye on is the beautiful little deco palace the Trylon. One would think that Queensborough Hall would go out of its way to salavage a relic of the era of the fabled 1939 World’s Fair, especially they are so keen these days to promote the legacy of the old Fairgrounds as the possible site of the 2012 Olympics. And does anyone know the identity of the movie theater once occupying the space which is now the Joe Abbracciamento Restaurant on Woodhaven Blvd.? There’s still a marquee… looks like a duotone brick Deco from the 30s or 40s…
You get a perfect view of the Paramount from the Staten Island Rapid Transit when it makes the Stapleton stop right across the way. While the area’s seen better times, the small-town charm is still evident from up there, with the theater and the old commercial buildings against the backdrop of private homes clustered along the wooded rise. What is also evident from that vantagepoint is how preposterous a highrise would be in that location.
I would absolutely second any of the choices mentioned above, and add two theaters that are great examples of ambitious renovation: the IFC Center in Greenwich Village, formerly the Waverly (http://www.ifccenter.com/index) and the Landmark Sunshine Theater on the Lower East Side, formerly a Yiddish vaudeville theater, then warehouse (http://www.landmarktheatres.com/market/NewYork/SunshineCinema.htm).
See Stanley Crouch’s column of March 27 in the NY Daily News regarding a proposed interactive Jazz Museum bidding for the use of the Victoria (against several hotel chains…. who, I’m guessing, would be much less likely to preserve the existing strucure in any meaningful way…)
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Fantastic news! Lookit, I’m dancin'!
You guys have showmanship in your blood… I practically heard the drumroll underneath your announcement! I am most definitely keeping the weekend of April 8-10 open… and I’m spreading the word starting NOW.
Keep up the great work!
Warren— “those” people, any people, will spend subway fare to come to an exclusive presentation, a lauded film, or an event that’s properly promoted. Today’s NYC population is fairly cosmopolitan and few folks stay cooped up in their own neighborhoods, unless they are elderly and/or really destitute. And I think Ross Melnick is right, if this is really about being an exclusive first-run showcase for international Latino cinema, then it could attract the culture mavens who attend international/ethnic film festivals at venues such as Lincoln Center and Film Forum. Having said that, I think that proper marketing is the key. Without that, practically nothing in this crazy town lasts for long.
This is an interesting trend brewing here… the old D.W. Griffith on 59th Street has become the Imaginasian, on a similar mission to showcase new Asian cinema. It’s a gamble, but I’m heartened by the effort by both parties. Here’s to international cinema in NYC!
Orlando, re. corporations “celebrating” 100 years is such a cynical joke, amen to that. And I can’t believe this theatre had murals by Will Pogany…. up till now, I only knew his work from a single book I own which he illustrated, Padraic Colum’s “The Children of Odin” which is a retelling of Norse myths for “kids”, a book I’ve treasured since my own childhood. The thought that he had murals in a city theatre, in my old borough, and that they are gone makes me nauseous. Oh well… I came upon this page while cross-referencing for theaters designed by Eugene DeRosa, because I’ve just visited his Lafayette Theater in Suffern, NY for a wonderful Sci-Fi Festival. At least that one is cherished by its current owners. It’s still there, and it looks and feels like dream, which takes only some of the sting out of learning of the loss of this one.
Keith’s/Kenmore, R.I.P.
Bob, I agree completely, only I do think the Forum’s repertoire programs are good… only not as ambitious as they used to be, and wasted in those claustrophobic “rooms”. The only real excuse for the Film Forum is it’s socially convenient to the Manhattanites it caters to. See the hot-topic indie film with some friends, go to the coffee bar to discuss. But now anyone with a home theaters can put on a comparable show for their friends, with the added convenience of trips to the fridge!
What’s a crime is that in the biggest city in the country, the world capital of media, the former home of the Roxy and hundreds of smaller local palaces, where Loews closes the Astor Plaza IN THEIR CENTENNIAL YEAR and lets their former gems The Kings and the Paradise rot empty with neglect, we have lost the experience of the movie palace. To rediscover it in Suffern is a great joy. My challenge is to convince my friends in this “on demand” impulse-buy world to cough up the extra money and time for the NJT train ride. But I should think the bonus Wurlitzer “concert” alone is worth it!!!
I saw that the Lafayette is screening the Lon Chaney version of “Phantom of the Opera” on October 28. Now that should be an experience that just can’t be duplicated anywhere else in the tristate area (except mebbe the UCAC… I have to check that place out). With the Wurlitzer, The Laffayette is in a position to revive the 1920s moviegoing experience which all the great old palaces were actually designed for… the sumptuous presentation of silents. How about a weekend program of the greatest “forgotten” silents, such as the Douglas Fairbanks swashbucklers? Kino has just issued a remastered edition of “The Black Pirate” on DVD, which I think was the first full-length Technicolor feature. It would be cool if Nelson Page could get a “premiere” screening deal with a company like Kino to showcase their repertoire before they put them out on the retail market (hint hint)…
Yesterday was one of those perfect days, speaking as a Cinema Treasures aficionado, because I’d purchased a day pass to the Sci-Fi Festival at the Lafayette. Perfect. From my short, pleasant train ride from NYC to an unfamiliar but pleasant small town against the backdrop of rocky but wooded hills, to the de-lish pancakes ala Rockland (w/fresh spiced apple and walnuts in the batter) at the suitably space-age-exteriored Rockland Diner down the road from the theater, to having enough time between shows to casually stroll around to soak up the authentic small town commercial district vibe (they coulda shot “The Blob” here!), to being able to watch the slightly worn but wonderfully preserved marquee (“SCI-FI WEEKEND”) come to life as the day dimmed, to the vintage lobby posters, to watching gorgeous prints of some of my all-time favorite flicks on a big screen (one thing the otherwise admirable Film Forum in Manhattan can’t provide) but most of all I will not forget that moment when I climbed the short carpeted stairwell from the lobby into the soft amber twillight of the great auditorium in its gold and teal and wine-red shades, its glittering rows of opera boxes, the Tiffany-style chandelier, serenaded by a sound I’d never heard before in my life: the mighty Lafayette Wurlitzer…. wow, wow, wow. I’m not ashamed to say it brought a lump to my throat; I thought I’d never have a real movie palace experience again anywhere in the greater metro area, what with all the losses NYC has suffered over the years, the Astor Plaza being the freshest in my mind. My thanks to the owners and managers and programmers and Wurlitzer-players of the Lafayette for a truly memorable day. I’ll be back for the Classics series with as many pals as I can muster!
The Eighth Street Playhouse, the Bleeker Street Cinema and Art D'Lugoff’s nightclub the Village Gate were vibrant hallmarks of my Greenwich Village college days, and I sadly admit that at the time, not that long ago, I took them completely for granted. I thought they’d be around for at least another generation or two! The groovy curved facade of Electric Ladyland Studios (where Hendrix once recorded) next door to the Playhouse has also been completely altered. The main floor of the video store is what is left of the auditorium; turn around after you walk into the middle of the store and you will see the old projection booth above the entrance, complete with the tiny projection windows.
There is a really interesting tidbit of history regarding the old Film Guild Cinema in David Skal’s book on the cinematic Dracula, “Hollwood Gothic.” Apparently this was the venue for the American premiere of F.W. Murnau’s “Nosferatu” in June 1929; according to Skal, the Film Guild was part of a “little” art cinema movement which arose in reaction to the commercial palaces like the Roxy. The screen of the Film Guild Cinema was surrounded by a CIRCULAR proscenium called a “screenoscope”, with adjustable curved scrims rather than conventional drape curtains, giving the screen the appearance of a giant cat’s eye!! It has to be seen to be believed; fortunately Skal reproduces a rare shot of the interior in his book. Unlike the lavish movie palaces of the 20s (which of course I also love), the original Film Guild interior suggested not the sentimental exoticism of faraway countries and epochs, but the cool mystery and futurism of the art of cinema itself: the projection and perception of black and white, light and shadow. What a place to see Nosferatu for the first time!
I guess I’ll throw my two cents into the Great Astor Plaza Memorial Discussion. While there’s a special place in my heart for the golden age palaces, the more modern Astor Plaza and Ziegfeld are truly the theatres of my youth. The most vivid movie-going experiences of my life happened in the big cozy room of the Astor. Everyone seems to remember the opening sequence of “Star Wars”, with the intro crawl and the Star Destroyer roaring overhead. How about the STANDING OVATION the jump into hyperspace used to get? The nervous laughter as the growl of the Death Star trash compactor monster rippled 360 degrees around the audience in gut-rumbling Dolby? “ Is there something alive in here?” I did my first movie war-whooping during the asteroid chase in “the Empire Strikes Back,” was first dazzled by the credit-sequence of “Superman”, thrilled to the Old Testament lightning spearing the Nazis at the end of “Raiders of the Lost Ark”… all at the Astor.
Here’s a thought. Hollywood stars like to imagine that they can a big difference in the world… well here’s Samuel Jackson’s chance to do some good. I’ve heard him reminisce more than once on talk shows how blown away he was when he caught “Star Wars” at the Astor Plaza back in the day, and so felt honored to star in the prequels and become part of the heritage…. someone should tap him on the shoulder and let him know he can help save a piece of his own heritage as a young impressionable wannabe in NYC… maybe the Astor can become the flagship of the Jackson Cineplex Chain? Just a thought…
I think the theater should be identified here as the RKO Keith’s in Richmond Hill, since that is how residents remember it, and mostly because anyone walking by today would see the grand original marquee proudly displaying “RKO Keith’s."Granted it could cause confusion with its better known cousin in Flushing. I "discovered” this theater online while browsing through the Richmond Hill Historical Society’s website after coming back home from a Saturday afternoon stroll through the neighborghood’s jaw-dropping Victorian splendor. I had missed the Keith’s (as well as Jahn’s Ice Cream Parlor next door) not having gone down the length of Hillside but plan on getting back there as soon as possible. The Society has a couple of pages on the Keith’s which should be of great interest to visitors of Cinema Treasures. One documents in photos the unveiling of the original intact marquee under the later sheet-metal one by the film crew of the movie “The Guru” which did location shooting there and eneded up using the old marquee in ther shots. The other has a 1939 photo of marquee and local Legion post marching band at the opening of the double-feature “Grand Illusion” and “Wife, Husband and Friend.” Maybe your webmaster can get permission to use one of these shots for this page?
Are there any early shots of the Paradise with a marquee? I’d only known it without one. Maybe it ws “modernized” in the early 60s?
Was this the theater that screened Disney classics every summer? That was a mainstay of my growing up in the 60s. I do know for sure that theater was in Parkchester.
Funny, yesterday I was reminiscing about my childhood in the South Bronx in the 60s and 70s when I left a comment for the President Theater of Westchester Avenue. So of course I did a search for my beloved Prospect Theater on this site, as I’d done many times before, and once again come up empty -handed. I never dreamed it had been restored and renamed! When I searched on the Web, I was directed back to this page, and got a big surprise. I immediately recognized the interior, especially the big double columns on either side of the stage. I remember vividly keeping one eye on the screen and the other on the door situated behind the columns because I knew that at a certain point one of the uniformed ushers would emerge with a stack of ice cream cups (remember the little wooden spoons?) to sell to the kiddies from the sidelines, while the film was in progress. In retrospect it was a smart thing for the management to do; it kept us quiet as we licked away!
I lived in the McKinley Houses on Tinton Avenue a few blocks north of the theater; the Prospect was definitely my household’s social hub. There was a time in the late 60s when it seemed we were at the theater every Sunday to catch the latest Mexican mariachi western starring the great Antonio Aguilar, or Jorge Negrete, or Luis Aguilar (relation to Antonio?) who in particular had a gift for comedy as well as being a a romantic lead, and of course, being mariachis they could all sing their hearts out besides being great horsemen and two-fisted champions of good. We were Puerto Rican but I always felt my dad had a Mexican soul; he loved those movies so. My mom went for the romantic comedies and dramas starring the latest Latino pop idols: Raphael, Sandro, and later Julio Iglesias. Ialso remember seeing movie treatments of popular Latino soap operas. Unlike their American counterparts, these soaps were more like long-running miniseries, structured like novels with beginnings, middles, and endings. Of course, my brother and I loved best the masked Mexican wrestlers, who fought in the ring by day and battled master criminals, zombies, Aztec mummies and vampires by night (El Santo, the Silver-masked One, even had a secret laboratory and hot convertible sportscar, kind of like a south-of-the-border Batman). So while we went further afield (Fordham Road, Eastside Manhattan, Times Square) to catch the Hollywood blockbusters, we were nurtured by the Prospect, now the Olympic, on a week to week basis. Needless to say I’m going to have to come visit the old neighborhood after nearly 30 years to pay my respects and relive old times.
What was unique about this theater was it’s very primitiveness. No balcony, and I distinctly remember seeing a crisscross of wooden beams high above in the gloom. I remember wondering why it didn’t have all the architectural detailing the other theaters had. While the Paradise was a palace, this was the other end of the scale, like a big barn, which was kind of interesting in its own way.
Thanks, Warren, that’s sounds right… the Valentine. Surfing this site is like undergoing deep memory recovery! See my other comment for The President Theater, Cinema Treasure 6094. That one was way waaay downtown in the South Bronx, quite a different world, but part of my childhood nonetheless.
This seems to me to be the theater I remember as “El Presidente” under the El and around corner from the more elegant Prospect Theater. These were the weekend entertainment staples for the local Latino community, showing Spanish language films, mostly from Mexico. Between the Mexican wrestler / horror schlock films at the Prospect and the very first wave of imported Hong Kong kung-fu flicks at the President (when it switched to English-language, dubbed or otherwise) in the 70s (I saw Five Fingers of Death at the President, as well as all the Bruce Lee movies as they were first released) I received a very Quentin Tarantino-esque “education” in classic 70s exploitation genres! All this was balanced fairly well by trips uptown to the Loew’s Paradise and the RKO Fordham for more wholesome fare, and in retrospect I wouldn’t trade any of it. But if only I’d grown up to exploit the exploitation era as successfully as Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez have!
I remember the Fordham and the Paradise well. But what was the name of the smaller more modern theater down the road by the elevated subway (Woodlawn line)? My dad took me there for a surprise visit on my birthday to see Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Of course I ruined the day by stealing some of my baby brother’s candy and he let out with such wailing we were ejected from the theater. I never saw the ending until it was show on TV years later and I barely cared because I was in junior high!
When I was a kid in the 60s and 70s Fordham Road at the Grand Concourse was indeed the place to shop. I remember getting a first real sense of “cosmopolitan” there. Grand Concourse had an almost European stateliness, and the Paradise was the crowning jewel there, even at that late a date. My dad, now a simple barber in semi-retirement in Florida, took a hairstyling course at the ABC styling school right up the block from the theater, back in the 70s heydey of Warren Beatty’s “Shampoo” and the John Travolta blown-back D.A. A few years before he had taken me to see The Ten Commandments there on the annual Easter screening, one of my formative experiences. The theater was still a single screen at the time, and it was quite a spectacle to see the teeming multitudes in the orchestra level below (we were late so could only get balcony seats, but that was allright by me). The place was packed, and I have never seen a movie theater audience of that size ever again, not even for the later blockbusters. It was all spectacle, on the screen, in the great room, on the ceiling, in the monstrous lobby. I vaguely recall satyrs and maidens along balustraded grand staircases and mezzanines. Within a few years the Paradise (as well as the RKO Fordham around the on corner on Fordham Road) had been divvied up, but I was yet able to get a sense of the old grandeur, much diminished, one last time. I took my kid brother to see an Art Carney movie, “The Late Show,” which was playing in the main room on the old balcony level. The collonades on the sides and the sky ceiling were still there, but unlit. That old view of the orchestra was sealed off by a black floor, giving the sense of a bottomless pit. The biggest thrill my brother and I got that day was a teaser trailer for the forthcoming Ralph Bakshi version of The Lord of the Rings!!! complete with ominous Wagnerian music and choirs. No images, just music, crawling type on a black background, and the logo. My personal last thrill at the Loew’s Paradise.
Reading the postings and the articles here is killing me. This theater is, for me, the living embodiment of what this website is all about: the hope and dream of salvaging a past that is so near for many of us and yet so far. If they do reopen the Paradise, I’m there on the first night. I don’t care if it’s a church service or a Salsa concert. Just to relive such a gorious part of my childhood will probably have me blubbering like a baby.
This place was one of my personal faves… like many of the old NYC revival houses it offered a less than ideal viewing experience (long and narrow like a shoebox and barely a floor slant to speak of… I’m getting claustrophobic even as I sit here recalling it, but hey, that was all part of the expereience: we were roughing it for art’s sake), it nevertheless was my second college, offering a terrific education in classic world cinema. I got my first dose of Bergman, Kurosawa, Fassinder and others here. In terms of historic cinema really only the Film Forum is continuing the legacy in New York these days; it’s sad. If I were a filmaker I’d create an homage to the bygone days of the truly bohemian Bleeker Street. My characters would meet at the Bleeker Street Cinema, argue about the movies over espressos at Le Figaro and end the evening getting blasted over martinis at the Village Gate while Dizzy Gillespie and Tito Puente jam onstage. No wait, that would be followed by a heavy and meaningful lovemaking scene back at the “pad.”
In 2001 I moved into Rego Park, the neighborhood “next door†to Elmhurst, and “discovered†the Elmwood Theatre for myself on my first walk to the Queen’s Center mall. I have since watched with dismay what seemed like the slow death of yet another New York treasure. I could never bring myself to see any of the movies that played there while it was still open; from the shabby treatment of the exterior (marquee, lobby and ticket booth encased in cheap generic siding) I got a sense that the interior was probably trashed beyond hope; what did give me some hope that this grand old dame might survive was the news in these commentaries. I just passd the theatre this afternoon and saw that the sidwalk around it is now boarded off. Is this a sign of renovation or demolition?
P.S., another local “ghost†theater I have kept my eye on is the beautiful little deco palace the Trylon. One would think that Queensborough Hall would go out of its way to salavage a relic of the era of the fabled 1939 World’s Fair, especially they are so keen these days to promote the legacy of the old Fairgrounds as the possible site of the 2012 Olympics. And does anyone know the identity of the movie theater once occupying the space which is now the Joe Abbracciamento Restaurant on Woodhaven Blvd.? There’s still a marquee… looks like a duotone brick Deco from the 30s or 40s…
You get a perfect view of the Paramount from the Staten Island Rapid Transit when it makes the Stapleton stop right across the way. While the area’s seen better times, the small-town charm is still evident from up there, with the theater and the old commercial buildings against the backdrop of private homes clustered along the wooded rise. What is also evident from that vantagepoint is how preposterous a highrise would be in that location.