My Own Movie Theatre - Number 24

The brand-new Alexandria Theatre in 1923 - my grandmother was 17 when it opened...Back in the days when I was working in Palo Alto, I would sometimes meet a friend after work to catch a film at the Stanford Theatre. I remember David Packard introducing a film saying: “If I don’t play these films, who will?” I’ve thought about that statement for a long time, and have decided that I agree with Mr. Packard, and would like to contribute my own film studies to greater prosperity via my own movie theatre. Now I know I don’t have the Packard millions to restore a movie house to its Art Deco glory (Mighty Wurlitzer and all,) but I don’t see why I couldn’t do it. I even have a lineup of films selected and ready to run…classic and art house films only – some first runs, but I would mostly show things that have already been on the big screen. I'd play a cartoon, a newsreel, and previews, but no commercials - those modern additions are a travesty, and definitely NOT what I pay my $10.00 for...

It’s no mystery that I love classic films – I’m addicted to Turner Classic Movies and my Netflix queue is outlandishly pre-code – who knew you could get these things on DVD? It could be the clothes, the hats, the men in suits and top coats, but I truly confess that I’ve always longed to toss off a line such as “So-long Copper, it’s a raw deal.” Or “Take yer paws off me, er I’ll make ya use that gun…” Maybe I was a hard-boiled dame in a film noir a lifetime ago. Who’s to say? Truth be told, if I hadn't gone to fashion school, I was all signed up for film school...but things happen.

Today I was back in the old-old neighborhood (not the neighborhood I grew up in, but the neighborhood my grandmother and great aunts grew up in…) – the outer Richmond District just off of Geary Street. My grandmother and her three younger sisters lived on 26^th Avenue at Geary, just behind the St. Monica’s parish. A few blocks away, at the corner of 18^th Avenue and Geary stands the now-faded glory of the Alexandria Theatre. It’s magnificent Art Deco architecture is decrepit, boarded up, and peeling, and yet there’s a shoddy banner over the marquee indicating that a new YMCA has opened in the building. “Join today!” says the sign… Nothing breaks my heart more than the closure of old movie houses, unless it’s old movie houses closing in order to house something as depressing as a YMCA. Mission Street and Market Street were at one time known for their opulent movie houses, and while the Market Street venues now house movies of the XXX variety, the Mission Street ones have been converted into $1.00 stores and, oddly enough, churches of the new-religion variety.

This kind of thing happens far too often in San Francisco. The mighty Moorish extravagance of the Alhambra now houses a Crunch fitness, while the other two single-screens of my childhood, the Coliseum and Coronet, now house up-scale condos and the Institute on Aging, respectively. Never mind the overwhelming loss of the beautiful Royal, whose mid-1930s Timothy Pfleuger streamlining made the tiny theatre most memorable. It was a sad day when the Royal was razed, leaving only a terrazzo tile sidewalk as a remnant along Polk Street.

The Vogue on Sacramento St. - they had streetcars on Sacramento?The website Cinema Treasures has an incredible database of classic movie houses from around the world, but mostly from the United States. You can look them up by location, architecture style, architect, and even chain. I just love the old names – the state of California movie houses include “Sunkist” “Seavue” “Surf” “El Capitan” “Orange” and “Coast” – imagine them in bright, unmistakable neon, highlighting the glories of the golden state…fabulous. I will say that it is a blessing to see some of the classic places still up and running: the Warfield and Oakland Paramount still house some of the best rock shows on the West Coast, the little Vogue around the corner from my apartment still plays a new first-run every two weeks, and the majestic Grand Lake in Oakland shines its mammoth neon sign over the Lakeshore district every night. And never forget the Castro and Roxie...

As I looked at the sad Alexandria, I thought of the stories my grandma and aunts used to tell about going there, the fun they had, the fellows they dated, where they went for waffles after the picture was over. I’m conflicted because as part of me wants the old place to be restored, I know this is highly unlikely, so perhaps it would be kinder to tear it down? Kinder than that would be to give it to me…I’d put it to good use – some things you don’t do for the money, you do it because they’re beautiful.