These days I select my screenings carefully. As a student, I have a lot of spare time on my hands, and when I can, I'll see a film during the week before noon. The last few times I was at a multiplex, I was one of less than five other guys (with the same idea as me) in the entire theatre... which is the way I like it, to be honest.

But there are, nevertheless, great memories with packed theatres. I think I've been to four sell-outs in my life: Titanic, on the second weekend after it opened in 1997, with my mother (we'd gone at opening weekend, but every showing was sold out, and we found out while we were still standing in the queue, about ten yards from the front desk). Star Wars Episode III I saw on the Friday it came out, and that was the most cramped screening ever, full of fans, of course; I remember before the film actually began, with the ushers and their torches guiding people to their seats (it's the only screening I've been to where you couldn't sit anywhere, the tickets were numbered), the sound of people munching popcorn, all the things I usually cringe at, but this time round, me and my three mates were really up for it. Borat was a sell-out, too, and I've honestly never laughed so hard - I was definitely the loudest in there (because I laugh at silly things nobody else does as well as the intended gags), and believe me, it was pretty riotous in there.

But the most unique sell-out I've been to was last Halloween, a 3D print (with glasses!!!!) of Jack Arnold's Creature from the Black Lagoon. It was sold-out, the theatre was full, and just before the film was about to begin, the cinema manager came on stage and thanked everyone for attending. Word for word, he said: "Now that we have all of your money, I can say that this is probably the worst film you're ever going to see." And you know what? It wasn't far off. So bad it's good? Not even that. The 3D glasses just gave me a headache (the print was awful, really).

That's sell-out screenings, for me. Definitely more to come on other memories...

I looked this movie up online and it says it came out in 1968. Unless we went to a theatre that showed old movies I would have been 4 years old if we saw this on a first run movie. Seeing those kinds of scenes at that young age would explain a lot.

I looked this movie up online and it says it came out in 1968. Unless we went to a theatre that showed old movies I would have been 4 years old if we saw this on a first run movie. Seeing those kinds of scenes at that young age would explain a lot.

Anything else get, uh, "woody"?

It was at the old World Theater on 48th or 49th Street. Anything wood there would've made that place a firetrap.

Hence the old expression "Can't see the forest for the trees!"

The World Theater? Ahhh, for the days of the "scratch palace" - the kind of place where your shoes stick to the floor and you leave the screening with your coat hanging off your lap!

Jeez, I'm gettin' all nostalgic here...

Signor V.

Edit: Top of the page! (But, for this??)

I know this has been mentioned in the past, but to my peers, remember the 3D glasses? I think the movie was 13 Ghosts. What a novelty back then hu?

Another memorable moment for me from my childhood was when my Uncle Frank took my sister and I to see The Shaggy Dog. It was very very popular. I remember being a little scared when Tommy Kirk changed to the dog. It was in black and white if I recall.

TIS

I remember that .... the effect of 3D wasn't the greatest BUT it was still "special". Whenever the effect of something coming off the screen (and out towards the audience) took place us kids would start laughing hysterically.

Was that the movie that flashed a "warning" to put the glasses on just before a 3D scene was to take place??

Yea, that's right! Was there writing on the screen or some signal to put them on?? If you wanted to see the ghosts you had to wear the glasses. Of course if you found it too scary you simply had to remove the glasses. Those glasses were made out of a cheap cardboard and didn't last long. Damn, sounds so ancient doesn't it?


TIS

In 13 Ghosts (1960), the gimmick wasn't "pure" 3-D, but was as follows:

In the film, the (deceased) character of Dr. Zorba had invented special glasses that allowed the wearer to view the apparitions. Whenever a character in the film put on the glasses, that was the signal for the audience to put on theirs. If you didn't wear your glasses, the onscreen ghosts were not visible.

All prints shown on TV or released to home video have been reprocessed to eliminate the need for the special glasses.

Pity.

Signor V.

My folks took me to see "Bwana Devil," the first 3D movie, at the Loew's Pitkin in Brooklyn in '53. The Pitkin was the high-end movie palace in our neighborhood (Brownsville), and so you got 3D glasses with plastic frames. The "nabes" gave you glasses with cardboard frames. "Bwana Devil" was preceded by a trailer featuring an opthalmologist who assured the audience that viewing the movie in 3D wouldn't harm eyes.

Okay: the first film I saw at the cinema was My Girl, in 1991, which means I would have been four-years-old; didn't know I could remember that far back! As far as the power of (C)inema goes as both a medium and as a place to watch it, I cried at the end of the film; telling, perhaps, of the medium's grip on me ever since. I remember wondering at the time what all those marks were (it was, in retrospect, a really grubby print), and being especially interested in the black mark which appeared in the corner every now and again (reel-change!). My mother took me, as she always did back in those days: we also saw Home Alone 2 (1992), The Jungle Book (1967) re-release back in 1993, Jurassic Park (1993) and The Lion King (1995), among others; all vivid memories of all good films.

Back in those days, too, when our home football team played at home, they used to broadcast it live at the cinema, which was a fantastic idea, I think - the cinema used to be completely full of football fans who watched it live on the big screen with full Dolby. Imagine!

As years passed, and I hit adolescence, very much on the fringes of falling obsessively in love with the medium, I went to the cinema with my dad to see Gladiator (2000), and it blew me away. I remember the scene which mimicks the Battle of Carthage, when Maximus leads an enemy horse and carriage into a trap, and the whole thing goes crashing through one of the Collisseum entry doors, towards the camera (and audience), and both me and my dad clapped. Not an uproarious clap, but one single clap of the hands, in appreciation of the entire thing.

A lot of my best big screen memories, which will stay with me for a long time I'm sure, have come from my local arthouse, which I discovered in 2003. I had always known it was there, but my only knowledge of it prior to that was that it had once had a "Blue Movie" festival when I was very young, and my mother thought it was disgusting! The first three films I saw on the big screen there were Amores perros (2000) (a re-run in conjunction with 21 Grams' release at the time), Infernal Affairs (2002) and Zatoichi (2003), all of which got me hooked onto wanting to see every film they ever showed there.

And even if now I will admit not every film an arthouse books in is a masterpiece, it is because of that place that I've seen Nosferatu (1922) with a live DJ score, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919) and Metropolis (1926) with a live piano accompaniment! The latter was especially unforgettable, as you can imagine. I also first saw Stalker there as well as re-watches of Taxi Driver (1976), Mean Streets (1973) and Manhattan (1979). I regret that last year when they showed Don't Look Now (1973), I couldn't make it, nor could I make it this year when they showed probably my favourite film, Eraserhead (1976).

Two Novembers ago they had the Northern Lights Film Festival, a week-long schedule of north European films, many of which were obscure at the time and a lot of which are still waiting wide theatrical releases. I think I probably saw more films at that festival than anybody else (all shown bar three, I think); I bought a week-long pass and stayed in the vicinity morning till night, seeing about four or five films a day...

I saw several overlooked masterpieces there, and won't ever forget the context in which I first saw them: a midnight screening (with free bottle of beer!) of Bleeder (1999), a violent, self-reflexive film self-consciously reminiscent of Mean Streets; The Wedding (2004), a frantic and surreal Polish comedy; King's Game (2004), a Danish political thriller full of wonderful, sombre cinematography and all the momentum of All the President's Men; The West Wittering Affair (2004), a humble, inventive British comedy which just got a limited release this year; and, as well as those new gems (plus some rotten stinkers, too!), I caught at the same festival a trio of Garbo vehicles, namely Mata Hari (1931), Queen Christina (1933) and Anna Karenina (1935), plus one reel from a lost and forgotten silent production of Petter the Tramp (1922) which she starred in before signing for MGM.

On a very personal side note, that same festival's Closing Gala was A Cock and Bull Story (2005), preceding which was a public showing of the second short film I made, an adaptation of The Little Match Girl. A very powerful and rewarding experience, to say the least.

Enough of boastful day-long stints at the theatre catching this obscure film and that obscure film, though; there are a few other individual experiences which I had the pleasure (at the time) to share with a girl I was once in love with.

She lived in a hard-to-get-to place, and so we never kicked it off as I would have liked, but we met up once a week to catch a film and then chill out afterwards somewhere and talk, with me trying to seduce her beyond "friendship" and to try and stop her from entering a relationship with someone I didn't particular like (a bully, no less, who she's actually still with).

We went to see Signs back in 2002, and I embarrassingly (as far as the convention of dates goes) jumped twice - and both times she didn't; once early on, when a dog barks loudly and breaks silence, and late on when you see an alien walking past obstacles on somebody's home video.

I got my own back, though, in 2004 (when we rekindled a close friendship after long bouts of hiatus), when we went to see The Descent and Wolf Creek more or less within a week of each other. During the first, there were a few moments early on where I made the mistake of offering my hand (which had been requested), a mistake because I had nail marks on my knuckles for weeks after. And I don't think she even saw the latter, because for half of it she was hiding behind her own hands - which this time round I refused to hold!

I went to the Warner Theater in downtown Pittsburgh with my mother when I was about 13 or so to see the Ten Commandments. During the showing I got sick and by the time we got home I was having convulsions. The convulsions lasted a couple of days. They never did figure out what caused them, but they did diagnose me with mono. Of course, whenever I watch the Ten Commandments the memories come flooding back. It's not a pleasant experience except that that movie is so outstanding that I end up adjusting to it.

Much like the Red Sea did on the Egyptians, huh??

I have a "Ten Commandments" memory, too. When the movie first came out to the neighborhood theaters you needed to make reservations to see it (I think Turnbull mentioned this already) and the theaters did not accept any coupons (money off ticket prices offers) so I didn't get to see it in its original release (besides I was too young, anyway). Every two years after that they'd "re-release" the movie so it was then that my mother figured she'd take me to see it.

Now, the Century Theaters chain (a chain of about 25 movie houses in the boroughs of New York) had a birthday plan for kiddies... if it was your birthday you got in for free. Being that the movie was being shown around Easter/Passover and being that my birthday is that time it was a natural for my mom to want to save a dollar or two.

We went to our local Century theater only to find that they weren't honoring the "Ten Commandments" in on their birthday special offer. My mom went ballistic and the ticket taker had to call the theater manager out to calm her down. My mom used to live for confrontations like this so it was just a matter of time before she had the manager quivering like a bowl of jelly.

We got in (I for free) and the soon memory of Moses parting the Red Sea took second place to the memory of my mom brow beating the theater manager.

Maybe Sylvester Stallone should have cast her in his movie, "Stop! Or my mom will shoot".

You go ma!!!

I had forgotten about those reservations. That's true. You know how Christians made arrangements to attend the Passion of the Christ. Well, that's the way it was at least among Catholics for the Ten Commandments. The nuns took several classes at a time to see it. Do you remember the program they published? It was several pages long. They also did that for Ben-Hur. How things have changed.

I could probably fill up the entire page with a movie post. There are so many memories:

- as a youngster at the drive-in with my parents to see "Creature of the Black Lagoon". I probably saw 10 minutes of it.

- The Central Theater in Pearl River, NY - every Elvis movie that came out. Then my favorite "The Blob" with Steve McQueen and ever B grade horror movies of the late 50's early 60's.

- Teen years: - again at the Central Theater: "West Side Story" I wasn't a musical fan (like SB), but this one was cool.

- Any movie that you could put your arm around your girlfriend and then sneak a kiss.

- first date with my now wife of 36 years - "A Man and A Woman", how appropos.

- "The Endless Summer" - as a Jersey shore surfer, this was the epitome of life.

- "The Graduate" - went with my girlfriend (now wife) to Manhattan. Somewhere around 59th and 3rd Ave. Became a Simon and Garfunkel and Dustin Hoffman fan after that movie.

- "Night of the Living Dead" - went to drive-in for a night of "kissing". Wound up mesmerized by the zombies, never kissed.

- "Easy Rider" - again in Manhattan. Blew me away.

- "Jaws" - wouldn't go in the ocean (freaky for a surfer).

- "The Godfather" say no more.

- "Gone with the Wind". Saw it in the late 60's. Had to buy advance tickets. Didn't really impress me.

Gone with the Wind didn't impress you? Madonne! It was the Godfather of its time. It's one of my list of top ten movies.

Two of the worst movies my Dad ever took us to see at the drive-in: Boy on a Dolphin and Rains of Ranchipur. One of the best: Heaven Knows Mr. Allison with Robert Mitchum

MC, The Central Theater in Pearl River - is that the one that is now a Commerce Bank?? We loved going to the movies in Pearl River, and afterwards enjoying a drink at Sheeran's, right across from the firehouse. The Palisades Mall, with it's Megaplex, put an end to that.

I think we must be related!

So let it be written; so let it be done.

Signor V.

Oh, I caught Capra's Forbidden (1932) last October at the NFT, London Film Festival... first and thus far only time I've been to that city, and I couldn't believe how "dedicated" or "hardcore" the theatre was to the respect of the medium. Not only were the seats amazingly comfortable (I fell asleep at one point!), but I just knew that everyone there was there to see the film... not a bag of popcorn in site! Very refreshing, but most refreshing was the sound not ten seconds in - the film had started, the credits were still rolling (as they do in old films from those days), and people were just finishing off their sentences with slight whispers, and this elderly woman in the row behind me almost threw a fit when she spat out ssshhhhhh to whomever was still talking. I was like, "Whao, I'm against talking in films, but Christ, give the guy a break."

Little Pearl River had two movie theaters; one on Central Ave a block from Main St (geez I grew up there and can't think of the cross street). It became the Pearl River Theater when the new Central Theater was built on the corner of John St, which might now be the Commerce Bank? The original Central Theater had a balcony that you could smoke in, which I tried as a teen (yech!) I spent lots of money and had lots of dates in both of those theaters.

Yes, I'm thinking of the one on the corner of John Street, near the ski store that looked like it was in an old church. The other theater is still there, although closed. There have been some battles over it, including one from a developer who said he would give it to the town for $1 in exchange for a change in zoning on another property he owned. Luckily, the town turned him down.

I believe that the last movie we saw there was Lethal Weapon 3. We tried to see it at the mall, but it was sold out until Midnight. We drove to Pearl River, and walked right in. Not only that, but we were two of only five people in the theater. It closed not long after that.

It was the end of an era. The only remaining downtown old-style movie is the Lafayette.