A Legitimate Question

The very elongated group photo above is supposedly the Princess Theatre of Des Moines, circa 1920. It was part of a collection of photos of a Fordson industry exposition held at the Fairgrounds around 1923, which was definitely in Des Moines, but...the Princess photo just doesn't look or feel like what we know of the actual Princess Theatre built on 4th street in the summer of 1909. The color postcard shown is from the theatre's opening play, "Clothes", and as you can see, the façade is nothing like that in the grayscale photo. At first, I thought maybe that Princess was still a work in progress, but there are too many differences to make that possible. Additionally, the year is way off.

So: this isn't our Princess. But more interestingly: whose Princess is it? Judging by the lack of buildings in the area, it's likely somewhere in a small town near Des Moines. But I have no idea where. Anybody got a good guess?

And another "legitimate" question: why do I bother discussing a legit theatre here in the world of Lost Cinemas? Because the Princess was begun by the entrepreneurial duo that jump-started the whole phenomenon in Des Moines: Kip Elbert and Jack Getchell, who began with the Mulberry street arcade, leading up to the opening of the Nickeldome on Locust Street in 1905. And it was their success with the Nickeldome that led to a long and successful career with the Princess.

(The Princess sat where Capitol Square is now.)

El Cid = El-Son

Way back in '61, the movie "El Cid" opened at the Capri Theatre at 42nd and University in a 70mm Todd AO presentation. To stir up interest, owner Bob Fridley--ever the showman--hired "well-known insurance man" Chet Elson to ride through town on horseback, wearing a real suit of armor borrowed from the Salisbury House. His mission: to invite then-governor Norman Erbe, as well as the mayor and the rest of the local government, to the premiere showing.

"Des Moines' favorite policeman" Tony Mihailovich delivered a mock violation ticket to Elson for allegedly parking his horse illegally. The Tribune and all the local news stations covered Elson's ride to glory.

Once again, this blog entry comes courtesy of the BoxOffice Magazine collection of John McElwee, used with his kind permission. Be sure to visit his beautiful website at Greenbriar Movie Theatre.

'Register' Recognition!

As many of you have probably noticed, the "Lost Cinemas" film project and blog were recently the topic of an article in the Des Moines Register, thanks to the journalistic efforts of Erin Crawford. Not only was it a real pleasure to speak with Erin on this admittedly obscure topic, but the coverage has brought in a deluge of wonderful emails from people who have pictures and stories to contribute. You'll be seeing them here soon.

For you out-of-towners who don't have access to the print version, here's a link to the Register's online edition where you can check out the article here. (I don't know how long this will be up before being archived, so check it out now! If you want a version you can print out on your own printer, this link will do the trick.)

Once again, huge thanks to Erin, the Register staff, and all the Lost Cinemas readers who help add even more fun to the mix. Cheers!

Hits, Runs, and an "Airer"

In 1962, the Pioneer Drive-In staff pitched a promotion for the upcoming baseball movie "Safe at Home", with Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris: 5000 local Little Leaguers would sell tickets to the show ($1 per adult, 35 cents per kid) and each receive a percentage of the sale plus an autographed 8x10 from the stars of the film. A tandem promotion involved kids sending postcards to Bill Riley, who would draw winning cards on his TV show--the winners received baseballs autographed by Yankee ballplayers. The feature film itself premiered on June 6 that year.
Left to right: Chester Ruby, Saydel Little League; Ray Webb, manager of the Pioneer Drive-In; Joe Jacobs and his wife, of the local Columbia office; and owner Richard Davis.
Above: May 12, 1962 opening of the "Safe At Home" promotion, at Grandview Little League Ballpark. Note the makeshift ticket boxoffice at the back. At that time, the Pioneer was owned by Richard Davis, and managed by Ray Webb. (And that term "airer"? Just a slightly more modern version of the industry name for a drive-in--they also had been called "ozoners", perhaps a holdover from the days of pre-drive-in open-air theaters such as the Ozone on East 6th and the Airdome on the site of the Hotel Fort Des Moines.)

These photos come from the now-defunct BoxOffice magazine, this particular issue from the collection of John McElwee, used with his kind permission. Check out his own amazing movie site at Greenbriar Movie Theatre.

Any little leaguers out in our readership who took part?

Capri Tel-Op Slide

From my collection of 1960s TV slides, here's one from my own neighborhood: the beloved Capri, formerly the Uptown, located on University across from the Safeway plaza at 42nd street.

When I talked to Bob Fridley last year, he told me that he had visited the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood around the time that he purchased the Uptown, and was so impressed with the sound system there that he had a duplicate of it installed at the Capri!

A Reader (And His Dad) Remember

A Lost Cinemas reader named Max writes in with this story:

"I must tell you how I found your site. I was having dinner with my father who is 78 and in a care facility in Des Moines. Midway through the meal he looked over to the table of folks in the corner of the room and said, 'You see those people? They're going to Red's BBQ.'

"I said, 'What dad? What and where is Red's BBQ?' (I'm 51 and a lifelong Des Moines resident and do not remember Red's.)
'It's by the theater,' he replied.

"After much more questioning about exactly where and when it was he was placing this Red's restaurant, I had to stop because he just couldn't put an answer together. So, when I got home I went online and Googled until I found your marvelous blog!"

Max--though I never have met him in person--lived in my neighborhood near the Capri, took the bus to the Galaxy, and witnessed the implosion of the Paramount in 1979.

Great to hear from you, Max! Thanks for the good words, and I hope to hear more reminiscences from you soon.

A Jolson Tune for the Des Moines

Somehow this song of the south became "successfully introduced" in faraway Polk County Iowa by the Des Moines Theatre's resident organist L. Carlos Meier, pictured here on the cover. The copyright date shown in 1922--a full six years before another Jolson vehicle, the first synch-sound talkie "The Jazz Singer", made its local premiere here at this same theatre.

'State Fair' Returns to Grand Avenue

Check out the Des Moines and Paramount theaters as they begin their long, slow slide into oblivion: it's 1962, and on the Des Moines' marquee is--once again--"State Fair", though alas this is the 1962 remake, which doesn't even take place in Iowa. (Somehow "All I Owe Texas" just doesn't have a good meter to it for singing!) No crowds or amusements filling the streets this time--just typical afternoon traffic.

And next door at the Paramount: "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance"!

These slide scans are courtesy of Tom over at www.trolleybuses.com; go check out his great collection of Des Moines-area trolleybus photos and promo folders here--great stuff!

The Orpheum, as seen from the Hubbell Building

This is, of course, the Orpheum at 210-8th, in the lower-left-hand corner of the picture--not the RKO version later found up that same street at the number 410. 1918 is the date of this postcard view; one wonders what the view might look like today outside that same window, from one of the Hubbell apartments?

"State Fair" Footage News

After much tracking, I finally found out last week that the Fox Movietone News reel (containing the story of the world premiere of "State Fair" at the Des Moines and Paramount in 1945) is still actually owned by: Fox News! The best part of this news, however, is that Fox still holds all the outtakes from this reel, which I am ordering now. Being as only one minute of footage made it to the finished reel, I can only imagine what's contained in the remaining film. More news on this as I get it; you'll be sure to see the best of this in the finished "Lost Cinemas" documentary!

Berchel Sheet Music

When playing piano at home was still the order of the day, sheet music was the preferred mode of music to buy. It often served a double purpose, as in this case, to promote a venue or event in which the song, the writer, or a popular performer of the piece, was featured. With "Bonnie Mary", the songwriter's own company performed the song at the Berchel Theatre, as per the advertising on the front page.

"The Preacher" Hangs On East Locust!

Okay, it's really John Carradine in a bit part as a street bum in the Crown International film "The Hostage"--among many other appearances, you'll probably remember him as the preacher from "The Grapes of Wrath". But here he is, near the beginning of the film, crossing the street on East Locust, as if he had just left a matinee at the Amuzu and decided to wander over to the bar.

And, okay, he wouldn't have been coming from the Amuzu, since this was 1967 and the Amuzu had been closed for 14 years already. But I can dream, can't I?

BBQ In The Ground, 1939

Back in the 1930's, when the Roosevelt Theatre was new, the plan was for the theatre to be fully integrated into a whole complex along 42nd street--conceptual renderings from the time originally showed an apartment complex attached to the theatre, though this apparently never happened. A shopping center just across Rollins took on its namesake (which it retains today), and down below the theatre structure itself was a restaurant: Red's Barbeque. The theatre itself is now of course the Des Moines Community Playhouse, and Red's eventually became Theater in the Ground.

Rialto - Temple of the "Two Abes"

From 1919, we have an ad in the Capitol for the Rialto Theatre, located at 721 Locust, and owned by Abe Frankle and Abe H. Blank. It's worth noting that Blank, in adding a slogan to the street sign for this place, adapted the slogan used by New York City's Rialto: "Temple of the Motion Picture, Shrine of Music and the Allied Arts". Blank's snappier version: "Temple of the Silent Art". The Rialto outlasted its tagline slightly, as it exhibited a short distance into the sound era, but going completely silent--and dark--when its doors closed in 1933.

"Lost Cinemas" Comes To YouTube

Flatteringly, I have been bootlegged--and no, I'm not mad at all.

The "Lost Cinemas" trailer is now available for viewing (in what looks to me to be a crunchier, more compressed version) at www.YouTube.com. All you have to do is search for Lost Cinemas, and voila! There 'tis. (But you saw it here first...right?)

Much thanks to the two people so far who have given it a 5-star rating! Hey guys--when I finally premiere this thing, I hope you're there. (And that you brought your writing pencils!)

The Roosevelt, in 1935

Check out the Roosevelt Theater (or, as you probably know it, the Playhouse) back when it was nearly new in 1935, and check out the Roosevelt Shopping Center, with all its winged billboards.

On the marquee: "Ruggles of Red Cap" starring Charles Laughton--in glorious Technicolor! (Shameless work-related plug, there.)

The Ideal, Recently

The Ideal's latest incarnation, at the same old address of 2447 E. Walnut, is that of an 8-plex apartment building. The new front awning and façade completely obliterate what little was left of the red and black deco tile from its theater days--in fact the only theater element I could see that still remained was the awning supports, still hanging down across the face, holding up nothing.

This photo is from my recent trip back to Des Moines, during which I tried to film/photograph whatever I could find for my documentary--a difficult task since there is even less to find than ever before! The screen at the Plantation was gone, and numerous locations (Eastown/1536, Amuzu, Capitol Drive-In, and others) were vacant lots--not a scrap of rubble to be found. The fine folks at Ed Garner's Autorama were nice enough to let me poke around their RV lot--formerly the Pioneer Drive-In--and shoot the screen there, nearly blocked by 20-odd years of tree growth. (They said the marquee sign was back there somewhere, but I couldn't find it at all.) Oddest of all, the Forest Theater building was constantly in the news--currently the home of Creative Visions, which is being audited very publicly.

On the upside, Des Moines appears to be finally putting some faith in itself again--everywhere, massive construction and renovation. Lots of old downtown buildings converted to living quarters again. New bridges everywhere. A vastly improved MLK parkway. Good going, gang.
Now just get a decent parking lot near the Ingersoll and get that opened up again, and you'll be all right!

Hiland Plan Excerpt

The south elevation (or, as we outside the architectural world call it, "the front view") of the second Hiland theater, as drafted by Wetherell and Harrison in April of 1938. This streamline style was very popular at the time, as was the use of glass bricks in the marquee tower--seen here as criss-cross lines flanking the middle. The idea was that multiple sets of colored lights behind the glass could be turned on alternately, giving the marquee a different appearance for each night.

(Drawing courtesy of Wetherell Ericsson Architecture.)

Trek to the Hills, 1979

December 7, 1979: my girlfriend and I have joined the throng on Crocker's walk around 4pm, in a gigantic line awaiting the premiere of Star Trek's first comeback, "Star Trek: The Motion Picture".

It's cold--we're bundled up and shivering, and other people have brought sleeping bags and little heaters, making the line look like an encampment. Every 10 minutes, a self-designated timekeeper near the front of the line yells out something like, "2 hours and 40 minutes to go!" And everyone cheers. Every time. The cheers are especially large for major markers--"2 hours!"--"1 hourrrrr!"--and when it gets down to the last 5 minutes, it's completely crazy, a call every minute. The street nearly explodes when the call "Doors opening!" comes through. The packs are hoisted, the wallets unpocketed. The line inches inward, into blissful, popcorn-scented warmth.

More cheers as the surprisingly austere main title comes on. And when the Klingon ship first dips into view. A news crew is there filming, as an unrecognizably-made-up Mark Lenard (as the Klingon captain) yells something like "Kreplach!" and photon torpedoes shoot into the mysterious space cloud. It is like the Beatlemanic screenings of "A Hard Day's Night": every time a familiar character hits the screen: screams, applause. Des Moines native Stephen Collins, as Commander Decker, tells Captain Kirk that Kirk doesn't know the Enterprise a tenth as well as he does. "Bull$#*+!!" calls someone from the peanut gallery. Laughs, more applause.

The film goes on, at first indulgent--47 closeups of the refitted Enterprise in porno detail!--then glacial: 7-minute shots of the V'ger cloud intercut with Sulu and Uhura staring wordlessly into its maw. But none of us care. We have all sent our letters to Paramount and Roddenberry over the years, and have just received the fruits of our democratic actions, just in time for Christmas. The pace picks up just in time to give the finale some of the adrenaline of the original series, and then we all spill smiling into the winter night, looking for our cars through puffs of icy breath.

We have seen new Star Trek, with the original cast (and a Des Moines native), on a Cinerama screen, in Dolby surround, at the fabulous River Hills.

Ahhh. Moviegoing!

Documentary Update

My apologies for being so long between posts, but I've been busy--with new materials that have come in for the film project.

First off, Mr. Bob Fridley, of Fridley Theatres and Video, sent me a wonderful box of photos, clippings, ads, and articles from his personal collection--including rare shots of the Capri, Varsity, River Hills and Riviera, and the Lincoln/Holiday. I've been busy scanning and animating these items, and the results thus far have been really exciting for me. And Mr. Fridley has invited me to visit him when I'm in town this August, which should be a real treat.

Mr. Bob Meza, of NBC (heck, just a mile or so away from the Technicolor office in Burbank), has graciously allowed use of his theater photos, most of which cover the demolition of the Riviera and River Hills on--of all dates--September 11, 2001. Smaller versions of these can be seen over here on the Cinematour site.

Last and not least, the wonderful people at Wetherell Ericsson Architecture were gracious enough to dig up a complete set of blueprints for the Hiland Theater that the firm made back in 1938 when it was still the Wetherell-Harrison partnership. These are astounding to see on a number of levels--the detail, the craftsmanship, even the hand-lettered material (with the striking diagonal O's) is something to see. (These plans refer to the second, Moderne-style Hiland at 423 Euclid that exhibited from 1938 to 1967, not the previous house at 3602-6th that opened in 1923 and ran until the second version was constructed.)

I will continue to make posts, and offer a bit of this new material now and then, but there's a lot of work to do still on the doc itself. Please be patient--I promise it will be worth the wait!

And, as ever, if you should happen to stumble on any materials, please let me know--it's likely they will make it into the film somehow!