The Downer Theatre
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
June 19, 2010
Near Milwaukee’s Upper East Side nestled in the middle of a quiet block is The Downer Theatre. Built in 1915, it’s one of the first neighborhood theaters in the country. Most of the area is still old. The sidewalks have grown dark gray with age, but the many brick buildings that surround The Downer are in good condition. The neighborhood is alive and vibrant. A new multistory bank reflects in windows from across the street.
Cinemark IMAX Theater
Dallas, Texas
January 14, 2010
The Planets
Toolbox: Perfectly Clear, CameraKit
The lobby of the Cinemark IMAX Theatre in Dallas is breathtaking. The tall ceilings house a steampunk-like installation piece of the planets. The theme, I suppose, is “the world of the movies” but once I get past the theatrically lit orbs and the odes to classic films, I always think of the brilliant musical classic by Gustav Holst whenever I’m waiting to see a film on the multi-story screen.
There’s a giant, dirty, old screen just west of downtown Fort Worth. There used to be two more screens nearby. Weeds and bushes had reclaimed the parking areas. The trees had overgrown the screens. The once-white screens were dingy and filled with rust stains. None of the screens were even worth tearing down.
Hidden in the trees and the brush off Riverside Drive, the Meadowbrook Drive-In marquee still stands. The lights long dimmed and broken out. Even the last pain has peeled off, revealing the original theater sign underneath. An old bicycle has been rigged to the top. The drive-in behind is now a parking lot for trash dumpsters.
No parking. No trespassing. No movies. The one remaining screen west of downtown now stands silently in the trees.
There are nights when these are my two favorite words.
This particular bar is located in the lobby of the Magnolia Theatre in Dallas. The bartenders are always friendly. Instead of sports, there are always classic films on the video screens. Couples sit at the bar or in one of the few booths. On a good night, you may find yourself drawn into a conversation about classic or indie film with people you’d never met before.
It’s a huge old building in the middle of one of North Side’s old neighborhoods. It’s a block south of a main road. It sits across from a school and a church, a block away from Riscky’s Bar-B-Q (I suspect store #001). It shares a small parking lot with a sacred objects store — rosarios, hierbas.
Its clean art deco lines have been stripped of just about anything resembling a movie palace. Long closed, it’s still maintained. I hear they use it for private events. It’s painted a shade of gray now — real gray, not white that has gotten dingy. It looked much nice nicer when it was painted white.
The Azle
The Plaza sits by itself in Carrollton’s old downtown, surrounded by new old-looking buildings and restored genuine old buildings. A mural celebrating the theater and the town is painted on the west side facing the highway. The marquee displays “HAVE YOUR NEXT EVENT HERE” in old style slotted letters while photocopies of upcoming shows line the glass foyer doors. The box office is closed today, but a friendly scarecrow on the sidewalk out front beckons you to the gift shop.
Two theaters, The old Arlington downtown and The Grand in Fort Worth.
Arlington Theater
The Grand
When I Am Weak
Camera Bag: Camera Genius, CameraBag, Photogene, Photoshop.com Mobile
I never got to see a movie at The Grand. It was closed long before I ever found it. I had lived in Fort Worth for years and had always heard that part of town was pretty sketchy — dangerous for kids without any street sense.
My best friend and I got brave one day. “Come on, Tom, show me the hookers and the drug dealers. Take me down Rosedale.” Starting from the Interstate, we made our way east. We passed by old wooden houses with peeling paint and bars on the windows. There were red brick churches with leaning signs and hand-me-down playground equipment. As we drove, I saw nothing sketchy. It was just an old neighborhood that had seen better days.
There was a little jog in the road and that’s when I saw the theater for the first time. In this old neighborhood, I didn’t expect to see a movie theater, let alone an old movie palace. We’d stopped at the light. I had a few seconds to look. It was huge and old and was silhouetted against the horizon. The tall balcony side faced the road we were on. The paint on the red brick had worn off over the years — you could barely make out the name. The doors were boarded up. The marquee was blank.
The light changed. We moved on to our Friday night. Over the years, I’ll drive down Rosedale just to see if it’s still there. I pull up to the light and The Grand still greets me.
