Turning the Page on the Alabama Theatre

The headline was an eye-stopper: “The Most Hated Shopping Center.”

This was in the August 6 Houston Chronicle, an article by Lisa Gray covering the latest chapter of the Weingarten saga. The story is well known by now, with the key players being the Alabama Theatre, Bookstop/Barnes & Noble, the River Oaks Theatre and adjoining Shopping Center, Weingarten Realty, the City of Houston, and the city residents (including an extremely vocal group of preservationists). When word originally slipped out that both the deco-rich Alabama Bookstop (originally the 1939 Alabama Theatre) and the River Oaks Theatre (also from 1939) might be in danger of being destroyed, there was an immediate public backlash. Houston has had a serious problem in preserving its past, and the River Oaks is the last operational historic theatre still standing. And while the Alabama has not run a film since the eighties, its appeal stems from the loving restoration it was given when transformed into the Bookstop. Then one half of the historic River Oaks shopping center was razed, to make way for a very unhistorical-looking two-story building designed to house the new Barnes & Noble bookstore. As Lisa Gray said in the opening line of her article, “On September 16, Houston’s most reviled shopping center building opens to the public.”

The day before its opening, Barnes & Noble will close its Alabama Bookstop location. All signs of this are evident inside the store, with a massive 40% sale underway. Thus, one of the premiere 1939 theatre structures will go dark with an uncertain future. It is reported that plans are to keep the structure intact. We’ll see.

It is worth noting that we are in a downturn economy, which has a way of hampering new constructions. It could be argued that historic preservation is the more favorable flavor of the day than new construction when considering Alabama and the River Oaks. How things will play themselves out when the economy is riding high again is another matter.

As to the Alabama and its present options, it is ideal for conversion into either an entertainment venue, or left as retail. The interior is still stunning to look at, the balcony is intact, and so the possibilities are considerable.

As far as an opinion on this, I find myself at a crossroads. I always prefer to accentuate the positive, and hope that the Alabama will find new life and new prosperity. At the same time, I can run down a list of historic Houston theatres that no longer stand, all falling prey to the wrecking ball: Majestic, Metropolitan, Loew’s State, Kirby, Meyerland, Cineplex Odeon, Cineplex River Oaks Plaza, Tinseltown Westchase… well, the list could go on and on.

It is worth noting that there is a Facebook group named “I Will Not Shop At The West Gray Barnes & Noble.” It currently has 804 members. When Lisa’s article came out, it had 470.

What that might suggest is that Houstonians like their books best in old deco-style theatre spaces. Works for me.

Passion Nouveau at the Passion Pit

As the sun goes down, a sell-out crowd at the Showboat Drive-in waits for the film to begin.

Okay, now, everyone who has seen a movie at a drive-in theatre raise your hands.
(Yes, we know this will date you.)

There was a time when Houston was awash in drive-in theatres, ranging from the older single-screen theatres such as the South Main (one of the oldest ones in town) to the multi-screen venues that came later. For a city like Houston, numerous outdoor theatres were inevitable. As in other Texas cities, there was no shortage of land to build out upon. America’s love with the automobile was still in full rapture, and this passion helped in the success of the outdoor theatre. And in true Texas fashion, everything was done bigger, a brag that citizens of the state took to heart.

So came the driven-in theatres, a lot of them. The roll call of the Houston’s drive-in theatres covered multiple decades, beginning in 1940 and on through the nineties: the Texas (later named the South Main), Epsom Downs, Winkler, Shepherd, Market Street, Airline, Trail, Hempstead Road, Irvington, Post Oak (two different ones at different locations on Post Oak), King Center Twin, Hi-Nabor, the infamous Red Bluff (still remembered for its later days as a porn theatre), Tidwell, Loew’s Sharpstown (with a massive kiddie park that included a train ride), Telephone Road, Gulfway, Thunderbird, McLendon III, Pasadena, Bayou, and the last of the old line, the six-screen I-45 Drive-in, which was built in 1982.

It was a good run, with six decades of movies, memories, and lots of necking. There was a reason for its nickname as the passion pit, since it was, in many ways, the perfect date site, offering, privacy, intimacy, and little supervision. Unlike an isolated lover’s lane, drive-ins did offer the safety of others nearby.

Despite this, the drive-in always held massive appeal for families. Reasonable admission, on-site playgrounds, and no worries if the baby started crying, were all part of its popularity.

Then – one by one – the drive-ins all died off, a result of changing public desires, increasing real estate values, daylight savings time, to name just a few reasons. The last to be built, the I-45, was the last to close. When it did – February 29, 1992 – Houstonians saw it as an end of an era.

But sometimes, the past has a way of resurrecting itself. In the case of the drive-in, this occurred in 2006 with the opening of the Showboat Drive-in – not exactly in Houston, but close enough in nearby Tomball. Along with another drive-in that opened the year before (the Starlite) a new era began for watching movies beneath the stars. It was an act of bold defiance, since the idea of a new drive-in seemed completely out of sync with modern movie-going economics. What has since become clear is that there is still a place for an old-style ozoner in the twenty-first century.

So how well does a drive-in theatre do in today’s world of digital THX movie expectations? Judging from a recent Saturday-night visit to the Showboat, quite well. I took my family to see the Pixar film, “UP!” which was shown on a double bill with “Night at the Museum.” A good thirty minutes before the feature started, the place was pretty much a full house, and I found it difficult to find a place to park. On the other side, a slightly smaller crowd had collected for “Terminator: Salvation.” And while my son had been there before with me, this was the first time that my daughter had ever experienced a drive-in. They both enjoyed the experience, but I somehow feel that they could not comprehend the joy that I did when I went to one as a youth… or later on when I could drive there myself. I have to remind myself that they do not have this framework to their experience. They see it for what it is.

True, the picture is not as clear as it would be in a pristine digital indoor auditorium. True, the sound can vary since it is pumped in on an FM frequency, meaning the sound is only as good as your car system. There is still the issue of mosquitoes, and sweltering heat, or the chance of rain.

On the other hand, there is this wonderful communal feel, with everyone sitting in their cars, or relaxing in foldout chairs in the summer air. And there are the stars… far away from the lights of Houston, it is a simple thing to look up and clearly see all the stars in the sky

So while it is, after all, a different world where a movie can be watched on iPod in the palm of your hand, there is this inherent magic to watching a movie in this nostalgic manner, where the past meets the present, old-tech meets new, and people can gather as one.

This was obvious to me the night I was there. And I would lay odds that in one of those cars, someone was getting their fair share of passionate smoochies before the second feature. Some things never change.

To find out more about the Showboat Drive, in, visit their website at www.theshowboatdrivein.com.

What’s old is new, and what’s new is even newer

It’s a comfortable May evening at Discovery Green, not too hot, and not too cool. Skies are clear, without a hint of rain – in short, a perfect evening for outdoor entertainment. Surrounding the gently sloping hill of the Green, are the towering downtown structures, some still under construction, and backed to the rear by the George R. Brown Convention Center.

The entertainment of the evening comes in two forms: Live music, as supplied by the Two Star Symphony, and a movie, the latter being the Harold Lloyd silent comedy, “Girl Shy.” It is a combined effort, as the band supplies the musical accompaniment to this film. It is a great means of discovery for the audience, many whom have never seen a Lloyd film before, or heard the Two Star Symphony – and certainly not both at the same time.

It’s been along time since Harold has visited Houston’s downtown district. “Girl Shy” was released in 1924, just a few years before “The Jazz Singer” brought an end to the silent era. I would gamble that it has not been shown anywhere downtown since that time, meaning that it has taken 85 years to make a comeback. For the Discovery Green audience, it is as fresh and funny as it was when it was first released. What’s old is new.

And the music, the fresh approach, quite unlike what might have been played decades earlier, is even newer. Here, then, is the perfect match of the past and the present. For the people at KUHF and Discovery Green, who have planned this and other similar events, it is a successful way to bring a nearly forgotten era of the movies back to life.

During the teens and twenties, the streets of downtown Houston were populated with dozens of theatres, ranging from the early nickelodeons to the massive palaces such as the Metropolitan and Loew’s State (both of which were located a mere 6 blocks from Discovery Green). All are gone now, with the exception of the old Ritz Theatre, which is now used for live functions under the name of the Majestic Metro. The Discovery Green setup, with its inflatable screen and video projection, is a far cry from the old palaces, designed to hold 2,500 people, and built with disappearing orchestra pits.

The crowd doesn’t seem to miss it, instead being comfortable on foldout chairs or picnic blankets. It’s a very different time, and the fact that there is a large turnout for this old, silent, black and white comedy, speaks volumes. What’s old is new, and it is well received for that very reason, as will likely be on June 5 for the presentation of “Metropolis,” with music by the Golden Hornet Project.

And hopefully there will be more to come. Harold would be proud.

Historic preservation during an economic downturn

The Capitan Theatre relighting ceremony in Pasadena on June 20, 2000

The date is June 20, 2000. It is a cool, summer evening, and a small crowd has gathered at one end of the Corrigan Center. The event is a lighting ceremony, rather like the street lighting events that take place in Uptown Houston every November to kick off the December holiday season. In this case, it is not about streets or Christmas, with its trees all lit and adorned with decorations.

This is a relighting ceremony, signaling the complete restoration of a building exterior. That building is the Capitan Theatre, and the city of Pasadena has purchased the building, with plans for a full restoration and conversion of the space into a civic center. After funds were allocated for stage one of the restoration, work began on the exterior. Now, the results are about to be unveiled to the public.

The switch is thrown by Edward Carleton, the theatre’s original manager who had flipped the switch when it first opened. The Capitan lights up in all the glory of its heyday of more than fifty years earlier. The crowd lets out a cheer (and some good Texan “Whoops”) to the sight. In a town that has destroyed a good majority of its movie theatres, there is hope at least for the Capitan.

Fast forward to the present. The May 2009 issue of the Houston Chronicle’s GLOSS magazine features a swimsuit pictorial, showcasing model Julie Henderson of Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue fame. For a suitable background for the shoot, the photographers picked the interior of the Capitan, whose walls are ornately decorated with ocean-themed murals.
The images are stunning, the models, lovely, and the walls of the theatre…

Ah, there’s the rub. While the walls serve as a perfect accent to the photo session, it is noticeable that the restoration to the building exterior has not carried forth to the inside. Because preservation costs money, plans for the Capitan had to be done in stages, and things have slowed down since the lighting ceremony. Now, with a global economic downturn in force, the Capitan will have to wait even longer. Historic preservation is a difficult business, especially when its historical value is outweighed by the power of the dollar. Meanwhile, the Capitan auditorium is void of seats, and is used for storage, and the photo session will be the height of its action for a while.

The estimate for bringing the Capitan back to life is $2 to $3 million, and there is hope that the theatre will be resurrected in the next several years. But original estimates did not include a wilting economy, nor did it factor in Hurricane Ike, which has redirected the city’s focus for the time.

So for the time being, the Houston Chronicle offers a small glimpse of what once was and might be again, if only currently a backdrop for fashionable swimwear.

Roll the film…

The lights go down. Ahead, the screen is brightly lit from the projector. A wonderland is about to unfold. This is the realm of the movies, and their homeland, the movie theatre.

So here you are at the Cinema Houston blog, of which this is the first… so a brief introduction, if you will. It is a direct offspring of www.CinemaHouston.net, which in turn is a companion to the book of the same name.

In 2007, CINEMA HOUSTON was published by the University of Texas Press. It had been a long labor of love on my part, having worked on the project since (roughly) 1991.The book is a history of movie theatres in Houston, Texas, from its beginnings on through the current century. The goal was to cover most every movie theatre that operated in the city. Because most of these theatres no longer stand, I wanted to offer some sort of record of their past existence.

Since the book’s release, I have had the opportunity to meet a lot of people who have shared their memories of Houston’s past with me. I have come across more stories. Hence the Cinema Houston Blog.

This adjunct to CinemaHouston.net will offer a chance to air the variety of subjects that don’t seem to have a home elsewhere on CinemaHouston.net. There are portions of the book that never made it into the final edition. This blog serves as a release valve for all the extra material left out as well as new material. But this is also a venue that can tap into other subjects that are indirectly related, but still important. This column is a way to cover a variety of subjects: movie theatres, on a global scale as well as in Houston, local history, historic preservation, also national and local, the cinema, movies, from the silent days (a favorite subject of mine) to the present, and the changing means of entertainment in a world very different from a century ago. I may try to alert you to upcoming events as well.

If you have any thoughts, feel free to drop me a line. I would love to hear from you.

Until next month…

David