Pic taken at Theater Owners' Convention Rocky continued on into 1977. It was an unexpected 70's blockbuster if there ever was one.
The Flick had previously featured The Lords of Flatbush with Stallone in it, but who could have guessed what was to come from this man? Sly, to say the least.
The story enchanted nearly everyone and it was most clever to have Rocky lose at the end. "Adrian! Aaaddrian!" What an unforgettable ending for audiences.
Theater owner , Pop T, was very fortunate in his rotation picks that year, and though there were a few stinkers, over all this was probably the best time financially the place was to ever see. Added to the fantastic roll out of regular features, we finally nailed the correct venue for the Flick's late shows.
It soon became obvious after the kung-fu and blaxplotation pictures started that two pop culture phenomenon had been booked. The double features were Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, at eleven-thirty p.m., and were generally at capacity seating or near it every night but Sunday. The ticket price was two dollars and fifty cents a head at the time.
We fresh-popped our corn so that was a big draw, too. Our late show patrons often asked for extra buttery on their popcorn as they knew we'd lay it on thick. As a matter of fact, our fresh corn was so good we'd sell it in big bagful's straight out the door. Mr. Trimble once asked me what phrase we could use to promo that profitable sideline. I thought about it and came up with " Worst Popcorn in Town", sort of a reverse advertising psychology thing. Actually, I'd seen a peanut seller across town with that phrase on his store sign and got the thing from there. Pop T, with good sense, never took me up on that idea, though.
The audience for these late night movies was largely African-American. One should keep in mind these were the "Swinging Seventies" and some activities were more out in the open than they are now. The patrons enjoyed their pot and were constantly coming out to buy cups with ice for their booze. When we would have a complaint about having to pay for the drink cups, we'd just say "... that's how we take our inventory" which was true.
One time a young, blondish girl came to the late shows and left her purse behind with well over a thousand dollars cash in it, which was a lot of money back in those days. She was a white woman from the nearby Tall Tree Trailer Park and rumored to be a hooker. We were decent enough to call her and let her know we'd found it. A couple of days later she comes traipsing into the lobby to retrieve her purse and then left without a word - no thank you, appreciate it, no nothing, not even a miserly five dollar reward. She's lucky she didn't lose it again at our place is all I'll say to that.
In comparison to how things are today, it's interesting to note that in all the years these late shows ran, not once (to my knowledge) were the police ever called, or a fight or serious argument break out, nor was there any attempt at an armed robbery ever made. The patrons howled like Irish banshees when the crackly film would break and melt on-screen but that was about it.
Those were the days of folding money and we often had quite a bit of it in the office waiting to be deposited at the bank's drop-in, which was at the top of the strip mall.. It may be hard to imagine in today's world, but we never felt the need to carry a firearm. It really was a different paradigm in this respect. Occasionally, though, with a blockbuster regular feature playing, we did have a police escort during a bank run as the little finance office next door to us was robbed about three times during my tenure at the theater. Maybe there's safety in numbers but it was something we just didn't worry about.
The Flick had previously featured The Lords of Flatbush with Stallone in it, but who could have guessed what was to come from this man? Sly, to say the least.
The story enchanted nearly everyone and it was most clever to have Rocky lose at the end. "Adrian! Aaaddrian!" What an unforgettable ending for audiences.
Theater owner , Pop T, was very fortunate in his rotation picks that year, and though there were a few stinkers, over all this was probably the best time financially the place was to ever see. Added to the fantastic roll out of regular features, we finally nailed the correct venue for the Flick's late shows.
It soon became obvious after the kung-fu and blaxplotation pictures started that two pop culture phenomenon had been booked. The double features were Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, at eleven-thirty p.m., and were generally at capacity seating or near it every night but Sunday. The ticket price was two dollars and fifty cents a head at the time.
We fresh-popped our corn so that was a big draw, too. Our late show patrons often asked for extra buttery on their popcorn as they knew we'd lay it on thick. As a matter of fact, our fresh corn was so good we'd sell it in big bagful's straight out the door. Mr. Trimble once asked me what phrase we could use to promo that profitable sideline. I thought about it and came up with " Worst Popcorn in Town", sort of a reverse advertising psychology thing. Actually, I'd seen a peanut seller across town with that phrase on his store sign and got the thing from there. Pop T, with good sense, never took me up on that idea, though.
The audience for these late night movies was largely African-American. One should keep in mind these were the "Swinging Seventies" and some activities were more out in the open than they are now. The patrons enjoyed their pot and were constantly coming out to buy cups with ice for their booze. When we would have a complaint about having to pay for the drink cups, we'd just say "... that's how we take our inventory" which was true.
One time a young, blondish girl came to the late shows and left her purse behind with well over a thousand dollars cash in it, which was a lot of money back in those days. She was a white woman from the nearby Tall Tree Trailer Park and rumored to be a hooker. We were decent enough to call her and let her know we'd found it. A couple of days later she comes traipsing into the lobby to retrieve her purse and then left without a word - no thank you, appreciate it, no nothing, not even a miserly five dollar reward. She's lucky she didn't lose it again at our place is all I'll say to that.
In comparison to how things are today, it's interesting to note that in all the years these late shows ran, not once (to my knowledge) were the police ever called, or a fight or serious argument break out, nor was there any attempt at an armed robbery ever made. The patrons howled like Irish banshees when the crackly film would break and melt on-screen but that was about it.
Those were the days of folding money and we often had quite a bit of it in the office waiting to be deposited at the bank's drop-in, which was at the top of the strip mall.. It may be hard to imagine in today's world, but we never felt the need to carry a firearm. It really was a different paradigm in this respect. Occasionally, though, with a blockbuster regular feature playing, we did have a police escort during a bank run as the little finance office next door to us was robbed about three times during my tenure at the theater. Maybe there's safety in numbers but it was something we just didn't worry about.
Tail kickers and belly flops
I believe those action kung-fu and some of the blaxplotation movies were like a catharsis for people, as the plots were mostly about a brave hero arising from the oppressed, to do battle against and defeat wicked oppressors. At least that was the case with most of the karate ones. The last thing any of our patrons wanted was to be denied the Flick's kung-fu late shows, believe you me. However, it probably would have been a different story had crack cocaine and bad stuff like that been on the scene back then. The blaxplotation movies, though, have been, then, and now, thought by many to not have been good role models for African Americans, as they sometimes glorified unsavory characters like pimps and drug king-pins.
One flop that year of 1977, which if not mistaken is considered an all time movie bust, was called Exorcist 2: The Heretic. The picture's release was greeted with great excitement by exhibitors who expected the film to follow the original's success. It's a classic example of the hit and miss nature of the business back then. The thing was a total mess and any attempt at sitting through the whole two hours of it was excruciating. We gave out quite a few free passes to folks who wanted their money back.
One flop that year of 1977, which if not mistaken is considered an all time movie bust, was called Exorcist 2: The Heretic. The picture's release was greeted with great excitement by exhibitors who expected the film to follow the original's success. It's a classic example of the hit and miss nature of the business back then. The thing was a total mess and any attempt at sitting through the whole two hours of it was excruciating. We gave out quite a few free passes to folks who wanted their money back.
Another not so hot one was a George C. Scott movie called Islands in the Stream. Now the late Mr. Scott has left us some mighty fine and outstanding film portrayals, like Patton or A Christmas Carol, but this one is a different matter in my opinion. One evening the other theater manager, Joel, was in the projection room with me overlooking a tiny audience when suddenly he pulled out a reefer.
Joel was the kind of guy dudes gravitated to as a friend, so he always secured the finest smoke around, naturally. As mentioned earlier, it was a freewheeling era and almost all the peers I knew back then partook in varying degrees, myself included. The effect of this most unusual grade, which he called Kentucky Bluegrass (if memory serves) caused us to somehow see right into a part of the film where Scott is emoting at the side of a stream.
It was unusual, this psychic connection, like we were there on the movie set - behind the scenes if you will. Joel and I saw right through the silly arm and hand movements of George C's. That, plus his lack of commitment to the character's inspiration, as he looks towards the sky and rages about something, really made him look awfully ridiculous. The whole thing was hilarious and I can't ever recall gut-buster laughing more joyfully with a pal.
I stopped smoking the stuff a very long time ago and, of course, would never recommend it to anyone. If it's recreationally legal or medically prescribed in someone's state, no problem with that here, but it's overuse does have a tendency to make one lazy on occasion, talk a blue streak for those predisposed to anyway, and can cause refrigerator- raiding, which might, of course, put on unhealthy fat-laden pounds. It's beyond the scope of the story to go into much about the plant, so suffice to say, I never saw anyone hurt by it in those days, unlike the legal libations which destroyed lives quite regularly - by car wrecks, broken homes and other unfortunate stuff, as addiction or overuse of it still causes to happen today. And I did read a well-researched and recent book on the plant that said natural cannabinoids are one of the healthiest substances for folks known to science.
Joel was the kind of guy dudes gravitated to as a friend, so he always secured the finest smoke around, naturally. As mentioned earlier, it was a freewheeling era and almost all the peers I knew back then partook in varying degrees, myself included. The effect of this most unusual grade, which he called Kentucky Bluegrass (if memory serves) caused us to somehow see right into a part of the film where Scott is emoting at the side of a stream.
It was unusual, this psychic connection, like we were there on the movie set - behind the scenes if you will. Joel and I saw right through the silly arm and hand movements of George C's. That, plus his lack of commitment to the character's inspiration, as he looks towards the sky and rages about something, really made him look awfully ridiculous. The whole thing was hilarious and I can't ever recall gut-buster laughing more joyfully with a pal.
I stopped smoking the stuff a very long time ago and, of course, would never recommend it to anyone. If it's recreationally legal or medically prescribed in someone's state, no problem with that here, but it's overuse does have a tendency to make one lazy on occasion, talk a blue streak for those predisposed to anyway, and can cause refrigerator- raiding, which might, of course, put on unhealthy fat-laden pounds. It's beyond the scope of the story to go into much about the plant, so suffice to say, I never saw anyone hurt by it in those days, unlike the legal libations which destroyed lives quite regularly - by car wrecks, broken homes and other unfortunate stuff, as addiction or overuse of it still causes to happen today. And I did read a well-researched and recent book on the plant that said natural cannabinoids are one of the healthiest substances for folks known to science.
Heavy breathing and a black cape
Star Wars. Another blockbuster-sleeper that no one on the exhibitor side had any clue would become what it did. The audience for this picture started off moderate, believe it or not, increasing as word of mouth spread and TV adverts played. Unlike today's fast food promotions, internet and all, back then the person-to-person "grapevine" was what could really push a movie into the stratosphere at the box-office, no pun intended.
George Lucas's vision startled and delighted most who saw it as no one had been exposed to this kind of picture making or special-effects before. The audiences had great fun swaying in their rocking chair seats as the Death Star was attacked. Chewbacca, R2D2, Luke, Hans and all the rest were instantly memorable seventies characters and, the show wound up doing excellent business and went on to become the beloved and mighty serial, money-making heavyweight champion it has.
Can you believe some of the top critics of the time dished the movie, with reviewers like Pauline Kael, of the New York Times, calling it "Exhausting". And John Simon of New York magazine with the header: "Overwhelming Banality". Or how about Stanley Kauffmann of the New Republic's "Unexceptional". Others, however, had a different take, like Roger Ebert giving it a "Thumbs Up", and Charles Champlin's of the LA Times "Rip-Roaring Gallop". I liked it, but wasn't prescient enough to, say, cop about 30 or 40 different font original posters, which I could have done for a small out-lay. That would have been one awesome investment for the future, eh!
It was at this time, because I remember Star Wars was playing, that a life- threatening situation occurred for me. The wonderful and generous Mrs. Dot, beloved Pop T's wife, asked me if I would deliver a package to a friend of hers in a nearby metropolitan area the next day. Unable to score a love bird for the night at a local nightclub, and not wanting to go home, or do anything really but stay up drinking, the following dangerous event took place.
I hooked up with a dude at the club as a friend, who appeared to be cool. After the bar closed around two a.m., we went down to the river and drank a bit more and conversed like fools till sunrise. To be perfectly frank about the whole thing, it wasn't a great time to be a good judge of someone's character as is made plain in a minute.
Later, we went together to the lady's house to make the delivery for Mrs. Dot. Mrs. Dot's friend kindly invited us into her home for coffee. Unbeknownst to me, the jerk I was with took the opportunity, while sitting in the den, to steal twenty dollars from her purse when she went into another room for something.
George Lucas's vision startled and delighted most who saw it as no one had been exposed to this kind of picture making or special-effects before. The audiences had great fun swaying in their rocking chair seats as the Death Star was attacked. Chewbacca, R2D2, Luke, Hans and all the rest were instantly memorable seventies characters and, the show wound up doing excellent business and went on to become the beloved and mighty serial, money-making heavyweight champion it has.
Can you believe some of the top critics of the time dished the movie, with reviewers like Pauline Kael, of the New York Times, calling it "Exhausting". And John Simon of New York magazine with the header: "Overwhelming Banality". Or how about Stanley Kauffmann of the New Republic's "Unexceptional". Others, however, had a different take, like Roger Ebert giving it a "Thumbs Up", and Charles Champlin's of the LA Times "Rip-Roaring Gallop". I liked it, but wasn't prescient enough to, say, cop about 30 or 40 different font original posters, which I could have done for a small out-lay. That would have been one awesome investment for the future, eh!
It was at this time, because I remember Star Wars was playing, that a life- threatening situation occurred for me. The wonderful and generous Mrs. Dot, beloved Pop T's wife, asked me if I would deliver a package to a friend of hers in a nearby metropolitan area the next day. Unable to score a love bird for the night at a local nightclub, and not wanting to go home, or do anything really but stay up drinking, the following dangerous event took place.
I hooked up with a dude at the club as a friend, who appeared to be cool. After the bar closed around two a.m., we went down to the river and drank a bit more and conversed like fools till sunrise. To be perfectly frank about the whole thing, it wasn't a great time to be a good judge of someone's character as is made plain in a minute.
Later, we went together to the lady's house to make the delivery for Mrs. Dot. Mrs. Dot's friend kindly invited us into her home for coffee. Unbeknownst to me, the jerk I was with took the opportunity, while sitting in the den, to steal twenty dollars from her purse when she went into another room for something.
We left after forty minutes or so, and it wasn't long before he began to boast about his sneaky thievery. I became upset with him--firm and directly, but not in a bellicose way, when suddenly, he pulled out a very sharp switch-blade knife and put it to my throat, all the while saying "pull over". I did just that and we exited through the passenger side door of the Chevy onto the sidewalk. Things were beginning to look a bit dicey, to say the least.
So, there we were, in rush hour traffic, standing near a big city intersection in those pre-cell-phone days. I managed to talk the maniac down after a time, and he lowered the blade, but it was a close run thing. We got back in the car and proceeded on in silence before I let the creep out in front of a clapboard cotton-mill house. From then on out, this ol' boy always made sure to keep an unknown factor in front of him, never to the side or behind, unless it turned out to be a pretty girl or true blue male friend, that is.
The disappointed look on Mrs. Dot's face towards me when she found out what had happened was worse than the knife incident. What a fool I was to get in that condition and go to her friend's home, especially with that redneck loser. But I was the biggest loser fool of all and I've always so regretted letting her down. Naturally, this true lady with a heart forgave me.
A classic advertising bait-and-switch occurred around this time, too. The late Farrah Fawcett was an iconic love-goddess in 1977, playing one of Charlie's Angels on TV. Earlier, in 1970, she'd had a cameo role in vintage film star Mae West's campy movie, Myra Breckenridge. In one short scene, Farrah wore a not-so-see-through nightie, with only her nipples showing, and briefly at that. In the re-release, to capitalize on Ms. Fawcett's new found TV popularity, the movie had been advertised by distributors as "See Farrah Nude!"
She was anything but naked, and boy were there some angry walkouts over it which we had to take the heat for.
So, there we were, in rush hour traffic, standing near a big city intersection in those pre-cell-phone days. I managed to talk the maniac down after a time, and he lowered the blade, but it was a close run thing. We got back in the car and proceeded on in silence before I let the creep out in front of a clapboard cotton-mill house. From then on out, this ol' boy always made sure to keep an unknown factor in front of him, never to the side or behind, unless it turned out to be a pretty girl or true blue male friend, that is.
The disappointed look on Mrs. Dot's face towards me when she found out what had happened was worse than the knife incident. What a fool I was to get in that condition and go to her friend's home, especially with that redneck loser. But I was the biggest loser fool of all and I've always so regretted letting her down. Naturally, this true lady with a heart forgave me.
A classic advertising bait-and-switch occurred around this time, too. The late Farrah Fawcett was an iconic love-goddess in 1977, playing one of Charlie's Angels on TV. Earlier, in 1970, she'd had a cameo role in vintage film star Mae West's campy movie, Myra Breckenridge. In one short scene, Farrah wore a not-so-see-through nightie, with only her nipples showing, and briefly at that. In the re-release, to capitalize on Ms. Fawcett's new found TV popularity, the movie had been advertised by distributors as "See Farrah Nude!"
She was anything but naked, and boy were there some angry walkouts over it which we had to take the heat for.
Stacked shoes, sparkling balls and "Close Encounters"
Two blockbusters that year were Saturday Night Fever and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. John Travolta's portrayal of Tony Manero was remarkable, and even though the South was a bit different than New York City, people are basically the same when it comes to interpersonal relationships and the drama they can bring. John Travolta's disco-dancing and the Bee-Gees music didn't hurt any, either. The show did super business at the Flick and was an audience favorite.
Pop T and Mrs. Dot later met Travolta at a "National Alliance of Theater Owners" convention. They said he was a friendly and very likable person. One time, Mr. Trimble told me about running into an all but forgotten movie star and Playboy centerfold by the name of Valerie Perrin, when he was at a Las Vegas convention once. Seems he was going into an elevator when the star was making an exit from it with a coterie of beefy bodyguards, who fairly mowed everyone down making way for their VIP client. I doubt if Ms. Perrin has need of that kind of crowd-clearing protection these days.
Close Encounters of the Third Kind came out later in the year and cemented Steven Spielberg's reputation once and for all. Jaws was no fluke. The movie was utterly engrossing and fascinating. The ending had some patrons spellbound and some came out of the cinema looking like a religious experience had happened to them. It also was the only movie the Flick played that caused me to purchase a book on the subject. The film did phenomenal biz at the theater and everywhere else it played.
There are so many other things that could be included in this chapter but considering what an awesome year it was for films, we'll just continue on with some other great movie shows that we featured in 1977. A Bridge too Far was an excellent and accurate war film about the tragic attempt by the British, Americans, and Poles to wrest a bridge from the Germans in Holland during WW2.
Pop T and Mrs. Dot later met Travolta at a "National Alliance of Theater Owners" convention. They said he was a friendly and very likable person. One time, Mr. Trimble told me about running into an all but forgotten movie star and Playboy centerfold by the name of Valerie Perrin, when he was at a Las Vegas convention once. Seems he was going into an elevator when the star was making an exit from it with a coterie of beefy bodyguards, who fairly mowed everyone down making way for their VIP client. I doubt if Ms. Perrin has need of that kind of crowd-clearing protection these days.
Close Encounters of the Third Kind came out later in the year and cemented Steven Spielberg's reputation once and for all. Jaws was no fluke. The movie was utterly engrossing and fascinating. The ending had some patrons spellbound and some came out of the cinema looking like a religious experience had happened to them. It also was the only movie the Flick played that caused me to purchase a book on the subject. The film did phenomenal biz at the theater and everywhere else it played.
There are so many other things that could be included in this chapter but considering what an awesome year it was for films, we'll just continue on with some other great movie shows that we featured in 1977. A Bridge too Far was an excellent and accurate war film about the tragic attempt by the British, Americans, and Poles to wrest a bridge from the Germans in Holland during WW2.
It had many big Hollywood names in it, like Anthony Hopkins and Robert Redford. A college teacher once told us that Mr. Redford had been quoted as saying something to the effect that "...the only thing stupider than the amount of money they offered me, would be if I had turned it down".
Orca, a movie starring Richard Harris and Charlotte Rampling, which was obviously made on the coattails of Jaws, concerned a vengeful Killer Whale taking revenge for its murdered mate. It was actually a pretty good picture with a lot of action at the suspenseful end.
The little known masterpiece Sorcerer, made by the director of The Exorcist, unintentionally fooled the theater owners and public into believing it would be in the mold of the original demon show. It was a good suspense movie with imprisoned men who must drive trucks full of nitro across mountainous terrain to put out raging fires. The film was superbly helmed by director William Friedkin but, it tanked like a rock in water at the box-office. A fine performance by Gregory Peck in a show we played called MacArthur was purported to be the last movie viewing request of Elvis Presley.
Last, but maybe not least, is one called Damnation Alley. It had actors like George Peppard, Kris Kristofferson, and Jan-Michael Vincent running around in some 12 -wheeled monstrosity trying to survive a nuclear apocalypse. The only scene I remember well from it that came at the beginning, when two missile silo military types are at the controls happily discussing the finer points of their recent reefer smokes, when that dreaded red-level alert comes in for a nuclear launch. One man is hesitant to participate in turning the keys for Armageddon, so the other erstwhile buddy does his sworn duty by pulling his service revolver and convincing him to do otherwise.
As a final thought on that year of 1977, yours true blew his one and only chance to see Elvis Presley perform live. In January or February of that year the black velvet megastar played at the big arena in the nearby metro area. Pop T and Mrs. Dot were going and kindly asked me if I'd like to go with them. As far as music went back then in the mid-seventies, it was rock and roll albums, FM radio, and top 40 - that most of my generation liked, which didn't include such uncool and out-of-date singers like the King.
Oh boy and ovay!
How I came to regret that misfire in later years. Hind-sight truly is 20/20.
Orca, a movie starring Richard Harris and Charlotte Rampling, which was obviously made on the coattails of Jaws, concerned a vengeful Killer Whale taking revenge for its murdered mate. It was actually a pretty good picture with a lot of action at the suspenseful end.
The little known masterpiece Sorcerer, made by the director of The Exorcist, unintentionally fooled the theater owners and public into believing it would be in the mold of the original demon show. It was a good suspense movie with imprisoned men who must drive trucks full of nitro across mountainous terrain to put out raging fires. The film was superbly helmed by director William Friedkin but, it tanked like a rock in water at the box-office. A fine performance by Gregory Peck in a show we played called MacArthur was purported to be the last movie viewing request of Elvis Presley.
Last, but maybe not least, is one called Damnation Alley. It had actors like George Peppard, Kris Kristofferson, and Jan-Michael Vincent running around in some 12 -wheeled monstrosity trying to survive a nuclear apocalypse. The only scene I remember well from it that came at the beginning, when two missile silo military types are at the controls happily discussing the finer points of their recent reefer smokes, when that dreaded red-level alert comes in for a nuclear launch. One man is hesitant to participate in turning the keys for Armageddon, so the other erstwhile buddy does his sworn duty by pulling his service revolver and convincing him to do otherwise.
As a final thought on that year of 1977, yours true blew his one and only chance to see Elvis Presley perform live. In January or February of that year the black velvet megastar played at the big arena in the nearby metro area. Pop T and Mrs. Dot were going and kindly asked me if I'd like to go with them. As far as music went back then in the mid-seventies, it was rock and roll albums, FM radio, and top 40 - that most of my generation liked, which didn't include such uncool and out-of-date singers like the King.
Oh boy and ovay!
How I came to regret that misfire in later years. Hind-sight truly is 20/20.
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