Hey, I’m going to be 85 in a few months, and I’m going to tell you a story about a movie experience I had 54 years ago. It has to do with gold, which is real money, as opposed to Bitcoin which is a fraud. Would you rather have a real gold coin for $1200, or a worthless brass coin for $6500? Both are away from governments, but one is worth in real dollars today, about a buck, and the gold one is actually worth $1200. At any rate I call this ‘Bitconfinger’ (worthless), as opposed to ‘Goldfinger’ which has real value as one of Hollywood’s greatest. I was in the theatre business for 11 years, with six theatres. My favorite and last theatre was a 1927 movie palace in suburban Philadelphia in a middle to upper class town named Lansdowne. Exhibitors are always invited to screenings of soon to be released films, so they can decide whether they want to bid on them or not. Most exhibitors don’t go to screenings. I did, and was in a screening room with maybe a half dozen exhibitors, watching a James Bond film named “Goldfinger.” “Goldfinger,” is without doubt the absolute best of the many Bond features. 54 years ago, features were released to downtown theatres first, and then, usually 21 days later, to neighborhood theatres in various zones. Exhibitors see screenings before first run theatres show them.
As I was watching “Goldfinger,” if you remember it, Bond has been knocked out by “Odd Job,” had been placed on a plane of Goldfinger’s, and was just coming out of unconsciousness. He looked up at a pretty woman, and said, “Who are you”
She answered, “My name is Pussy Galore.”
I about fell out of my seat laughing, but realized that this film was going to be a real winner. United Artists seemed to know this also, because they told exhibitors that the price for “Goldfinger,” was a previously unheard of 50% of your gross, minimum of two weeks play time, and a $3,000 advance. Since no exhibitor in my zone was at the screening, and knew nothing about “Goldfinger,” they decided to pass. I got it. A week later, it opened at the Center City Fox, and broke all records for grossing of a film. I had it! Remember, this was 54 years ago, and $3,000 upfront, was the equivalent of close to $35,000 in today’s dollar value. I scraped it together, sent it in, and began to plan on how to promote it.
When Lansdowne’s time came, I found a pretty girl who wanted to be seen in the papers. I got a “007” banner to put across her shoulder and going down her front. I painted empty film cans with gold spray paint, and had her deliver the film in my Mercedes, after notifying the Philly Evening Bulletin what was going to happen. It worked, and she was seen in her glory in color, in the amusement section of the Philadelphia Bulletin. She, of course, was delivering “Goldfinger” to the Lansdowne Theatre. I found a WWII barrage balloon, painted it “007” and flew it above the theatre, low enough that it didn’t interfere with airlines. My normal admission charge was 75 cents, but I raised it to a dollar for this feature only. I’ve still got that sign saying “$1 for this feature only.” Lansdowne had, and probably still does, a Sunday “Blue Law,” which prohibits theatres from opening on Sunday. The fine was $50, and I opened on Sunday to a full house (1356 seats) and paid the fine for two or three Sundays, which also made the papers…deliberately of course.
I always opened each film with a spotlight on the American Flag at the left end of the stage, and “The National Anthem” being played on the eight rank Kimball pipe organ which the theatre had, and had been made playable again. Finding organists was easy, because everyone wanted to play a real theatre pipe organ; there were so few left. As I remember, “Goldfinger” ended on the note of “A” so the organists, as the curtain closed and house lights came up, played the “Goldfinger” theme as customers left. Everyone clapped and cheered as the film ended, they loved it so much. My projectionist Wally, had in the projection booth, a dimmer board which controlled the stage lights, footlights, and a huge chandelier in the center of the theatre ceiling. He loved to put on a good muilti-colored light show before and after each showing of any film, and he was a superb projectionist. Lansdowne’s theatre had not seen so many theatre goers in many a decade. United Artists made a ton of money, and Don Stott did very well also, besides having a ball.
I had a lot of fun in the theatre business, but it wouldn’t be any fun now. I’d like to have a dollar for each hour I spent in a projection booth. Film came in cans and were heavy. Booths had two projectors with arc lamps, and the operator (projectionist) was kept busy, because each projector had but 20 minutes of film in it, and every 20 minutes he had to make a ‘changeover’ between projectors, keep track of the projection arc lamps, rewind film, etc. If you have ever seen little round circles at top of a film you are watching on TV, those are “que marks.” There are two of them. The first, tells the projectionist to start his machine, and the second tells him to make the changover. Today, there is no film. Feature films come on a large DVDs, and house lights etc. are all automatic. No more projectionists. Theatre managers slip a DVD into the single machine, push a button, and that’s it. No more arc lights, but a brilliant bulb with the brilliance of the old carbon arcs, projects the film. No more romance in movie theatre business any longer. I’ve never had a job, but always worked for myself. Theatres were great, but I made far more money in my ten Bijou Iced Crème Parlours in Philly. Don Stott – 1-888-786-8822