It might
seem that celebrating the drive-in movie season during the dog days of August
is a celebration that is coming about two, maybe three months too late. Isn’t
summer just about wrapped up? Ha! Only if you’re in still in grade school—my
kids went back to their respective halls of education on August 8! For them summer, in a single but significant way, is
over. But for everyone else (including students), especially if you’re in the
southwestern part of the country, the hot days of summer aren’t giving way to
cool temperatures anytime soon, regardless of the insistence of the calendar.
In Southern California, climate change has made summer-style heat a staple well
into October, and sometimes beyond. Here it’s always drive-in season, even in January, and that’s the silver
lining of a sizzling autumn for fans of the specific joys of outdoor cinema.
And each
year around this time, a big bunch of my friends and I get together at one of
SoCal’s primo ozoner destinations, the Mission Tiki Drive-in, to salute the demise of another calendar
summer in high tailgating, starlit movie style. (If you’re in the Los
Angeles area and would like to join us, check out our official Facebook event page and
come on out! It’s happening tomorrow night, Saturday, August 20!)
In honor
of our drive-in party weekend, and in honor of this being the 83rd
summer since the first drive-in was opened, I thought it might be fun to
revisit the history of the drive-in movie theater and celebrate some of the
reasons why, despite a sharp decline in the drive-in theater population in the
last couple decades, the drive-in is still with us, even enjoying a most
unlikely renaissance.
It was
eight years ago that I was commissioned by the now-defunct Green Cine Daily, a wonderful
aggregator site dedicated to corralling the Internet’s best writing on film
which went dark in 2015, to create what they called “a drive-in primer,” a
guide to the progression of drive-ins and drive-in culture throughout the 20th
century. It was a fun article to write,
especially since I never thought that I’d be writing anything about drive-ins
in 2008 that wasn't dedicated exclusively to their inevitable demise, which by
then I would naturally have assumed would be an event long seen only in the
rear-view mirror. By the time I published the article for Green Cine Daily, I’d been writing about the resurgence in Southern
California drive-ins at my own blog for about three years, ever since I and
several like-minded fanatics founded the Southern California Drive-in Movie Society during the summer of 2005. (SoCalDIMS has been dormant for
a couple of seasons now, but we still maintain a very active Facebook presence.)
Eight
summers have passed since I did my little investigation into this distinctive,
but not exclusively American phenomenon, and since the original article is no
longer accessible through Green Cine
Daily I have obtained their permission to spruce it up a bit and reshare it
with you, for this weekend and beyond. (Though it was originally one long
piece, it is presented here in three parts—parts two and three to follow on
Saturday and Sunday.) Many thanks go out to Jonathan Marlow for securing the
permission to reprint the piece here, and especially to David Hudson, who so
kindly featured many of my earliest articles at Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule on the pages of GCD, thus ensuring me a much larger
audience than I would have ever gained on my own, and to OG GCD editor Craig Phillips, who was the
fella who asked me to write the piece for them. I hope you enjoy it and that it
inspires you to seek out a drive-in near you, especially if you haven’t done so
in a while.
***************************
***************************
(Photo courtesy of Jen Kipp Sherer)
During the summer of 2000, my
newborn daughter went to her first movie. My wife and I took her to the Foothill Drive-in,
along fabled Route 66 in Azusa, California, to see that revered children's
classic Mission: Impossible 2. All right, she was three months
old and she slept through most of it-- so did my wife, truth be told. But
regardless of what was actually playing, being there at the drive-in with my
first daughter was a moment of bittersweet significance for me. I finally had a
child of my own, who I hoped would grow up with an appreciation of the movies,
and yet it seemed entirely likely she would never know the kind of fun to be
enjoyed at a drive-in movie.
I walked her around the Foothill's
near-empty lot and told her stories about the drive-in movie theaters of my
past-- how I worked on the snack bar and clean-up staff of my hometown passion
pit; how being friends with the son of the theater owner got me on to the crew
for the drive-in's annual 4th of July fireworks show; and how movies weren't
necessarily better at a drive-in-- in fact, the projection and sound
were usually a downgrade from what you could see and hear at an indoor
theater-- but they were always special, and often somehow more memorable for
having been taken in under the stars.
I carried my daughter around the
lot, and we eventually approached one of those old-style speaker posts, which
still had the speakers attached even though the Foothill was now sporting FM
radio sound originating from a low-wattage transmitter in the projection booth.
That speaker pole was now a totem to memories left in the wake of technological
advancement. Gone were the days of bouncing from parking spot to parking spot
in search of the one speaker whose sound didn't seem like it was originating
from 1933, and from inside a rattling cellophane bag. Nevermore would drive-in
patrons forget to replace the speaker after the end of the movie and either
tear the pot metal device from the post or shatter their driver's-side window
as they absent-mindedly pulled out of their spot to head for the exit. As I
told my daughter with sincere melancholy, drive-ins would likely soon vanish
altogether-- rising property values combined with the cost of maintaining
drive-in businesses in the home video age would likely ensure that the few
remaining drive-ins which were still flickering in 2000, like the one we were
standing in, would remain perched squarely in the crosshairs of cultural
irrelevance, marked for a swift and steady disappearance.
Standing there, holding my daughter
in the shadow of the Foothill's drive-in screen tower, I honestly believed that
by the time she was old enough to put on her pajamas, load up in our car with a
bunch of pillows, blankets and bags of home-popped popcorn and head to the
drive-in like I did with my family when I was a kid, the drive-in movie theater
would be a true dinosaur-- gone, baby, gone.
Fortunately, and against all
indications, I was wrong. Although they are far less in number than they were
during their peak in the late '50s (in 1958, specifically, there were 4,058 drive-ins
in operation across the nation), the drive-in movie theater still exists. The
number of drive-ins showing movies has remained at slightly above 400 over the
last 18 years - the last precipitous drop occurred from 1998-1999, when 134
drive-ins closed during that single year. (Less than a year after we last
visited with my daughter in 2000, the Foothill Drive-in closed. It has been
dark for several seasons, its screen torn down, though its lavish marquee, a noted attraction along Route 66, remains standing.) But
since 1999 the total number of drive-ins has stabilized; fewer have closed and
disappeared. Going to the drive-in in 2016 is a rarified experience, to be
sure-- Californians in 1958 had 223 separate drive-ins in this state alone from
which to choose. When I wrote the first version of this article in 2008, that
number was down to 19. On the occasion of this updating, on the 83rd
anniversary of the opening of the first drive-in back in 1933, that number has
actually increased— the Paramount Drive-in in Lakewood, California reopened
three years ago after a 22-year dormancy.
The drive-ins which remain, here in
California and all over the country, are experiencing a renewed commitment from
their owners, and especially a renewed commitment from customers who cherish
the outdoor movie vibe as one that is extremely friendly to families, family
budgets and family viewing habits. Most drive-ins have admission prices that
are five to six dollars per person less expensive than their indoor cousins,
and some don't charge admission, or charge only a minimal $1 fee, for children
under the ages of 9 to 11. Modern drive-ins cater to budget-conscious families
by playing double features of first-run commercial fare, with an emphasis on
family-oriented pictures - blockbuster releases and animation from the likes of
Pixar and DreamWorks. And many here in California and elsewhere have invested
thousands of dollars to maximize the experience of the theater itself,
upgrading everything from the snack bar and surrounding grounds (tiki décor,
'50s diners and California orange groves are just three of the themes adorning
drive-ins in the Los Angeles area) to the technical presentation, with FM car
radio sound and super-bright digital projection which rivals that seen on indoor screens.
The heyday of the drive-in may be gone, but then so too are the days of
squinting to make out shadowy images on badly illuminated screens and listening
to crackly sound heard through antiquated, poorly maintained speakers.
One way that drive-ins really have
changed, however, is the kind of movies they feature. If one were to take an
informal survey of drive-ins across the country and what they were showing
midway through this past summer, the list would probably boil down to some
combination of the Ghostbusters reboot, The
Legend of Tarzan, Finding Dory, The BFG, X-Men: Apocalypse and Star Trek: Beyond. The men and women who
book drive-ins live for a schedule of releases like these, because they know
there is endless family appeal there that can be extended and reshuffled well
into the summer season. In this regard, the current incarnation of the drive-in
is hardly the familiar picture of a passion pit exclusively showing cheaply
produced fare targeted at restless youth—no, they’ve got their sights set squarely
on the broad appeal of mainstream Hollywood releases. And in that regard, 21st-century
drive-ins are no different than drive-ins were in their infancy, into the 1940s
and 1950s.
During the years just after Richard Hollingshead opened the very first drive-in theater in New Jersey in
1933, drive-ins showed what every other theater showed - any and all features,
big and small, that they could get hold of. And after World War II, when the
baby and the drive-in booms really began, drive-ins were still considered family-friendly
establishments. Many installed playgrounds and other fun attractions underneath
the screens to encourage parents to bring the kids. Even if the fare on screen
was more of an adult nature, the kids would play outside until the movie began,
indulge in the snack bar cuisine of the evening and then either settle in for
an exciting western or crime picture, or fall asleep during a less interesting
romantic drama or serious story intended more for the grown-ups. For many kids
of this generation, drive-ins were one of the main ways for kids to gain
exposure to the kind of movie fare that parents would be otherwise less
naturally inclined to offer to their children.
By the 1950s the drive-in boom was
well underway. From less than 1,000 theaters in 1948 to near 5,000 in 1958, the
drive-in theater had arrived and was busy making its mark on pop culture.
(During this same period, over 5,000 indoor theaters closed.) The All-Weather Drive-in in Copiague, New York, was an early
winner of the "my-drive-in's-bigger-than-your-drive-in" competition,
boasting a 28-acre lot capable of holding 2,500 cars. (This was before the
advent of multiple-screen lots, remember-- the All-Weather had one screen.) It
also made room for a 1,200-seat indoor viewing area that was heated and
air-conditioned, hence the "all-weather"claim, in addition to its
playground facilities, cafeteria and full-service restaurant. The All-Weather
Drive-in was so big it even featured a shuttle service to carry customers to
the various locations on the 28 acres, presumably even to their cars.
As the sizes and numbers of
drive-ins increased during the '50s, so too did the variety of extra
attractions drive-ins offered. Many would open up to three hours early to offer
families access to such pre-movie excitement as miniature trains, pony rides,
boat rides (!), talent shows, animal shows and even miniature golf. It was
around this same time, at the beginning of the '50s, that drive-in snack bar
menus began to expand, offering everything from fried chicken and barbecue to
chili and cheeseburgers, pizza and frozen ice cream treats. To promote these
new and exciting offerings, the drive-in intermission film was born.
But the '50s also brought a new
home-based medium into the mix, and as the boom of the '50s gave way to the
leveling off of the appearance of new drive-ins, television began to force
changes to the kinds of movies being made and how they were distributed. Indoor
theaters competed with TV by innovating the sheer size and scope of the image,
accommodating wider aspect ratios and better sound quality. Drive-ins, on the
other hand, were already becoming popular destinations for the teenaged crowd,
and they competed fiercely for the attention of motion picture distributors and
drive-in theater owners who began to cater much more to their taste in
exploitation movies, disposable comedies and low-rent horror and science
fiction.
A good drive-in movie was one that
ostensibly wouldn't suffer if you missed a portion of it while on a snack bar
run, or socializing with buddies on the lot, or because the windshield of your
sedan got all steamed up for whatever reason. Independent producers began
churning out tons of low-budget fare designed specifically to play on double
and triple features at drive-ins. These were usually disreputable pictures that
more often than not either skipped engagements at indoor theaters altogether or
were relegated to downtown grindhouses.
In any case, even if one or two
A-list titles managed to make it onto the drive-in screen during this period,
they were often accompanied by a couple of low-budget titles whose specific
purpose was the filling out of the B and C slots of a drive-in program, hence
the adoption of the term "B movie" to describe them. (For a look at a typical assortment
of advertisements touting exactly this sort of eclectic drive-in programming
culled from newspapers during this time, and news on upcoming drive-in events
all over the country, check out the Nostalgic Drive-in Newspaper Ads page on
Facebook.)
By the beginning of the 1970s drive-in attendance had plateaued and the amount of
theaters in existence in 1982 was only just over half that of the peak year of
drive-ins, 1958, when nearly 5,000 screens dotted the landscape of America's
urban jungles and rural backroads. The movies were still there, for the most
part-- there was no lack of cheap horror films and lurid sex fare in the early
'80s, to be sure, but drive-ins, in an attempt to stay liquid, began to turn
into second-run venues for mainstream Hollywood fare, and even hard- and
soft-core porn, which led to much community consternation and, eventually, a
bunch of chained-up entrance gates and abandoned lots. By the time the home
video movement was in full swing in the late '80s, the demise of traditional
Hollywood entertainment outlets was not coming about in the way heralded by
doomsayers who predicted that the Betamax would undermine entertainment
industry profits. Instead, home entertainment options were driving more and
more nails into the coffins of established drive-in theaters, who were giving
over their ever-more-expensive lots out to swap meets or folding altogether due
to lack of patronage.
Yet somehow, through all the battles
over expensive tracts of land giving way to urban sprawl and encroaching
Wal-Marts and mini-malls that characterized the '90s and the beginning of the
21st century, the drive-in never succumbed to extinction. Stalwart independent
owners, small real-estate corporations and even some large exhibitor chains
never quite relinquished their hope that the drive-in, though an unlikely
candidate for a full-scale comeback, still had life in it yet and could be
nurtured by the right management and supported by a new generation of drive-in
fans who remembered the experience and wanted to actively pass that love on to
their kids.
So here we circle back around to the
year 2000 and me standing on that lot in Azusa, California, hoping that my
three-month-old daughter would someday see and love drive-ins on her own, yet
never realistically thinking it would happen. Well, she's 16 years old now, and
she and her 14-year-old sister are 11-year veterans of many summer (and winter)
trips to the few Southern California drive-ins that are still going strong,
theaters that play to year-round record business and the delight of people like
my girls and me. The future of the drive-in seems, for the moment at least,
assured by its appeal to economically minded families looking for inexpensive
ways to have fun together.
No, the drive-in may never again
achieve the particular vibrancy afforded it by the lowbrow pop culture that ran
through its veins and its projectors in the '50s, '60s and '70s. But for those
who value the experience above all, this is a small price to pay. Many of these
theater owners are working hard to ensure that attending a drive-in movie remains
an activity that harkens back to the good old days and fashions fresh, happy
memories for a new generation at the same time. As long as there are theaters
like these, I feel confident that the drive-in will still be around in 30 years,
when my daughters want to take their own children and tell them about their own
good old days of movies under the stars.
**********************
**********************
(NEXT: In tomorrow’s installment of the SLIFR Guide to the Drive-in Movie, we take a look at one company that specialized in creating movies tailored toward the popularity of the drive-in in the ‘50s and ‘60s, as well as a baker’s dozen movie directors who had the drive-in sensibility coursing through their veins and their movies.)
*********************
No comments:
Post a Comment