By Ken Lass
Sharon and I went to a matinee recently at Trussville’s movie theater, the Regal Cinemas 16. We were the only two people in the theater, which was both delightful and disturbing.
It was delightful because it was like having our own private showing. (Whispering now) Don’t tell management, but I was breaking all the rules. Talking out loud during the film, putting my feet up. I think I may even have failed to silence my cell phone. I felt so naughty. It was awesome.
However, it was disturbing in that, as we slowly emerge from the Covid cloud, I fear our movie house won’t get the support that it needs, that folks will have fallen out of the habit of going to the show.
That would be a significant loss to our community. Movie theaters are a national treasure. There’s just something magical about the big screen, the surround sound, the buttered popcorn. It’s where I discovered Milk Duds and Twizzlers. It’s a two-hour escape from an outside world that seems to grow scarier every day.
Movie houses have been nothing if not resilient. The advent of television in the late 1940s and early ’50s was supposed to kill them off. Then the, premium TV movie channels like HBO and Showtime were thought to be the beginning of the end. Along came on-demand streaming from companies like Netflix, Disney, and Paramount. Through it all, the theater endured. Finally, Covid forced many to shut down for over a year. Undaunted, the doors eventually reopened, the projectors (now computers) fired up, and the popcorn resumed crackling.
I remember, as a child, going to the movies for fifty cents. Fifty cents! You would see a full-length cartoon, followed by some sort of short. Something like “The Wild Flowers of Bora Bora.” Occasionally, you’d be rewarded with a Three Stooges episode or an extra Tom & Jerry cartoon. Then the feature. At the Alabama in downtown Birmingham, patrons got a singalong, accompanied by that massive pipe organ.
Remember ushers? They would roam up and down the aisle with their flashlights. I’m guessing their original purpose was to find seats for late arrivers when the place was crowded, though I never saw any of them actually do that. Mostly, they would patrol row by row, looking for food items smuggled in. They also made sure things didn’t get too amorous on the balcony. Speaking of which, remember balconies?
In 1964 I was a huge fan of the Beatles, so I went to see their first movie, “A Hard Day’s Night.” As soon as the film began and the Fab Four appeared on screen, the entire theater erupted with teenage girls screaming at the top of their lungs. Hearing the movie was an impossibility. I’ll never forget the ushers yelling at the young girls to be quiet. Yeah, like that was going to happen. Eventually, they just gave up. Guess nobody was actually there to hear the movie anyway.
I know men are supposed to be strong and macho, but I’m an emotional mess at the movies. I jumped out of my seat and cheered when Rocky finally beat Apollo Creed. I cried during “March of the Penguins” when the mama penguins lost their babies. I weeped when they had to put the dog to sleep on “Marley and Me.” I couldn’t even handle it when Andy had to give away his toys in “Toy Story 3”.
If you were a guy, the movie was your go-to activity for a first date. I took Sharon to a movie on our first date. You must understand, in those days, there was just one theater in town, showing just one film. You didn’t have sixteen options. If you wanted to see a movie, you had to go to whatever was playing. Unfortunately, the film playing on the night of our first date was Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
Talk about a mood killer. Why she went out with me a second time, I’ll never know.
In recent years, we had a standing date to go to a show every Saturday afternoon until Covid shut the Regal 16 down. Now we’re starting up again. The good flicks are out there if you look hard. Faith-based movies are becoming more plentiful. The animated features are so well done that adults can enjoy them right along with their kids. And a good biopic, like the recent “American Underdog,” still comes along.
Then, there is the popcorn. So good, but way too many calories. I can’t tell you how many times I got out of the car, determined this time to pass by the concession stand. But you swing open the door, and that wonderful aroma massages your face like a breeze on a warm summer day. I’m powerless against it. Like a zombie, I march to the counter and order, knowing full well it’s bizarre to pay nine dollars for a bucket of popcorn. I think of it as sort of a donation to support the theater. I’ve tried forever to recreate the taste of that popcorn at home. It’s never quite the same. It’s a secret kept better than the recipe for Colonel Sanders’ eleven herbs and spices.
Forrest Gump, the original Star Wars, Saturday Night Fever, The Godfather, 3-D glasses, Dolby sound, so many great memories of my times in the theatre. If you want to take a break from worries and problems and cares, go support Trussville’s movie theater. You’ll find that a box of Milk Duds does wonders for what ails you. Just don’t talk out loud, and remember to turn off your phone.
(Whispering again) Unless you’re the only one in there. Then you can get a little naughty too.
(Ken Lass is a former Birmingham TV news and sports anchor and Trussville resident since 1989.)