 Is there anything sweeter than a beautiful movie palace? 
You probably recognize Grauman's Chinese Theatre, in Los Angeles. These days it's called TCL Chinese Theatre, because it's owned and operated by TCL Corporation—based in China, ironically. Since we write so often about movies we thought it appropriate to discuss the beautiful buildings in which the films were exhibited. Back in the day these were usually purpose-built structures, though some did split duty for stage productions and concerts. While many of these old palaces survive, nearly all surviving vintage cinemas in the U.S. were under threat at some point. Generally, if they hadn't been given historic protection they wouldn't be upright today.
Other times, if a city was poor, real estate costs didn't rise and old buildings stood unthreatened, usually idle. This happened often in the American midwest, where movie houses were neglected for decades before some were resurrected amid downtown revitalizations. It sometimes happens in Latin America too, although occasionally the formula fails. For example, Cartagena's majestic and oft photographed landmark Teatro Colón, located in the historic section of Colombia's most popular coastal tourist city, was torn down fewer than six months ago to make way for a Four Seasons Hotel.
Some of the cinemas below are well known treasures, while others are more unassuming places. But even those lesser known cinemas show how much thought and work was put into making moviegoing a special experience. The last photo, which shows the Butterfly Theatre in Milwaukee, exemplifies that idea. The façade is distinguished by a terra cotta butterfly sculpture adorned with light bulbs. As you might guess, many of the most beautiful large cinemas were in Los Angeles, which means that city is well represented in the collection. Enjoy.
 Paramount Theatre, Oakland (operational).
 Cine Maya, Mérida (demolished).
 The Albee Cinema, Cincinnati (demolished)
 Cooper Theatre, Denver (demolished).
 Paras Cinema, Jaipur (operational).
 Cathay Cinema, Shanghai (operational).
 Academy Theatre, Los Angeles (operational).
 Charlottenburg Filmwerbung, Berlin (demolished).
 Pacific's Cinerama Theatre, Los Angeles (operational).
 York Theatre, Elmhurst (operational).
 La Gaumont-Palace, Paris (demolished).
 Essoldo Cinema, Newcastle (demolished).
 Théâtre Scala, Strasbourg (operational).
 Teatro Colón, Cartagena (demolished in 2018).
 Teatro Coliseo Argentino, Buenos Aires (demolished).
 Pavilion Theater, Adelaide (demolished).
 El Molino Teatro, Barcelona (operational).
 Fox Carthay Theatre, Los Angeles (demolished).
 Kino Rossiya Teatr, Moscow (operational).
 Nippon Gekijo, aka Nichigeki, Tokyo (demolished).
 Cine Impala, Namibe (operational).
 Cine Arenal, Havana (operational).
 Teatro Mérida, Mérida (operational, renamed Teatro Armando Manzanero).
 Ideal Theater, Manila (demolished).
 Odeon Cinema, London (semi-demolished, converted to apartments).
 Mayan Theatre, Los Angeles (operational).
 Rex Cinema, Port au Prince (being restored).
 Urania Kino, Vienna (operational).
 Tampa Theatre, Tampa (operational).
 The Butterfly Theater, Milwaukee (demolished).
 What would you do to get your hands on $3.5 million?  
Gil Brewer wrote a lot of books. Wild rates in the bottom tier, according to most critics. When private detective Lee Baron takes over his father's investigative agency his first case is an old flame asking him to intercede on her behalf with her angry, cuckolded husband. Baron finds not an angry spouse but a mutilated corpse. Arms removed, face chopped apart with a hatchet, it's clear somebody was very angry at him. Or they were trying to obscure his identity—which means the corpse might not be the husband at all. When Baron uncovers a connection to a $400,000 bank robbery ($3.5 million in today's money) he begins to think he's landed a case that can put his agency on the map—if the police don't shut him down before he gets started. We agree this isn't Brewer's best, but it's still a mildly entertaining jaunt into Tampa, Florida's underbelly circa 1958. Above are two editions from Fawcett Crest and Gold Medal (aka Fawcett Crest).
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The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1946—Cannes Launches Film Festival
The first Cannes Film Festival is held in 1946, in the old Casino of Cannes, financed by the French Foreign Affairs Ministry and the City of Cannes. 1934—Arrest Made in Lindbergh Baby Case
Bruno Hauptmann is arrested for the kidnap and murder of Charles Lindbergh Jr., son of the famous American aviator. The infant child had been abducted from the Lindbergh home in March 1932, and found decomposed two months later in the woods nearby. He had suffered a fatal skull fracture. Hauptmann was tried, convicted, sentenced to death, and finally executed by electric chair in April 1936. He proclaimed his innocence to the end 1919—Pollard Breaks the Color Barrier
Fritz Pollard becomes the first African-American to play professional football for a major team, the Akron Pros. Though Pollard is forgotten today, famed sportswriter Walter Camp ranked him as "one of the greatest runners these eyes have ever seen." In another barrier-breaking historical achievement, Pollard later became the co-head coach of the Pros, while still maintaining his roster position as running back. 1932—Entwistle Leaps from Hollywood Sign
Actress Peg Entwistle commits suicide by jumping from the letter "H" in the Hollywood sign. Her body lay in the ravine below for two days, until it was found by a detective and two radio car officers. She remained unidentified until her uncle connected the description and the initials "P.E." on the suicide note in the newspapers with his niece's two-day absence. |
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