Old Movies and Old Movie Houses

There’s an old movie theater here in Coffeyville KS called the “Midland”. I don’t know much about it except that it appears to be an ongoing restoration project. It’s one of those ornate, fancy buildings you just don’t see any more, except in places like Coffeyville.

It reminds me of going to the movies as a kid, and the difference between that experience then and the same thing now. Sure, a lot of it has to do with the memory of things done in childhood being somehow better than the actual experience, but not all.

I remember buying my ticket for 25 cents and walking down the long, white-tiled floor (you remember those little octagonal tiles, each individually grouted in place by “artisans”…tiny, magical people who could do that sort of thing). Eventually the hallway, lined with posters showing the next thirty or so movies you just HAD to see, led to the Lobby, a carpeted, elegant place featuring the Counter of Opulence, where buttered popcorn, and sugar in a gazillion different forms could be purchased for reasonable (but at that time outrageous) prices.

To the right, just as we passed the Counter, was the stairway leading to the balcony; the preferred seating. It was roped off on Saturdays, unless you happened to be among the last of a very large number people to buy a ticket. This was a policy of “Management”, a scowling, disapproving man in a suit and tie, who glowered from the office door as we filed by on our way to see two features, a serial (we HAD to come back every Saturday because there was NO WAY the good guy could have gotten out of THAT fix), and ten billion cartoons.

The balcony had not always been closed for the matinee. It had been a launching pad for popcorn, wads of paper, candy and most anything else purchased at the Counter. But it was closed right after what was known as the “garbage bag incident”. It involved some cleverly concealed contraband, several Orchestra-section patrons, and a cleaning bill that had permanently deepened the scowl on “Managent”’s face.

Anyway, those are the kinds of images that old theaters bring to mind. These days, you buy a ticket, sit in a really comfortable seat with great sound and special effects, and enjoy a 6 or 8 dollar extravaganza. What you don’t get is the magic. Somehow, when that HUGE screen lit up with big black-and-white people and giant colorful cartoon characters, a couple of hundred kids became part of a world removed.

We laughed, hollered, cheered, and totally lost ourselves into that Special Place for a few hours of our time and the quarter earned by a week’s worth of taking out the trash. (Every now and then, on my way down that long tiled hallway, I’d see four canisters sitting along the wall, containing next week’s feature, or maybe last week’s feature ready to be sent to the next theater on the list. I remember thinking how great it would be if I could just own one of those movies, and a projector to show it with…I could watch it anytime I wanted and invite my friends. Funny thing about wishes made when you’re a kid…some of them come true.)

One of my favorite movies is an Italian film called “Cinema Paradiso”. It has a lot to do with growing up, coming of age, and the different ways people show their love for each other. But one of the main characters is an old, broken down theater in a small Italian village. The chairs are small, the sound is bad, and it is the center of the community. It has none of the things my old theater of days gone by had, except the magic.

And that’s enough.

The feeling is there, and although I’m listening to Italian and reading subtitles, watching people from a country I’ve never seen, following incidents that are unlike anything from my childhood, it takes me back.

To the feelings: I become part of the story, just like we did on Saturday afternoon in a small New England Milltown.

It’s nice to know that the magic is still there. Now and then you find somebody with a camera and some film who can bring it back. And make you part of it.
Blog at ya later,
-Geezerguy