FLASHBACK 1988: Salt Lake's Centre Theatre stands as a final testament to another era of moviegoing.
Won't Someone Adopt a Goober?
By Kelly Jacobs
In commemoration of City Weekly's 40th anniversary, we are digging into our archives to celebrate. Each week, we FLASHBACK to a story or column from our past in honor of four decades of local alt-journalism. Whether the names and issues are familiar or new, we are grateful to have this unique newspaper to contain them all.
Title: Won't Someone Adopt a Goober?
Author: Kelly Jacobs
Date: September, 1988
The haute cause of 1987 was saving the Hotel Utah, but the "Adopt a Hard Roll" ploy just didn't wash.
Sometime soon, Salt Lake will lose its prime example of Art Deco architecture when the Centre becomes another casualty of the tireless wrecking ball.
Here's a look at the long history of Salt Lake's Centre Theatre.
Remember the Uptown, the Lyric, the Capitol, the Rialto, the Gem, the Star? Perhaps your parents or grandparents danced in the ballroom at the American while they waited for the feature to begin. They might have been in the crowd that watched as firemen did battle with the blaze that destroyed the Victory in 1942.
Long before the advent of television, the movie theatre was the focal point of Salt Lake culture. An evening at the movies provided not only entertainment, but information as well; a living picture of events that were shaping society. Before television's six o'clock news, newsreels and short subjects were as vital a part of the moviegoing experience as the feature.
In the 1950s, there were well over a dozen movie theatres in the heart of downtown Salt Lake; some of them were giants (seating between 1,200 and 1,800). Along with the vaudeville and silent movie houses that preceded them, these grand old palaces became victims of economic and social change. Presently their numbers are reduced to one: the Centre...
...And soon there will be none.
Christmas Eve, 1937, heralded the opening of "Salt Lake's Newest and Most Modern Palace of Entertainment," the Centre Theatre. The premiere program offered a newsreel, a short subject, Man without a Country, and the feature True Confession, starring Carole Lombard and John Barrymore.
The building philosophy of that time, (which earlier spawned the eclectic and glamorous Utah Pantages and now home to live theatre via City Rep) held that these grand theatres should be "monuments to democracy." Only in America could the wealthy and poor alike mingle in opulent splendor surpassing even the luxury known by kings elsewhere. Another intent, which was not purely philanthropic, was that the gracious lobbies, auditoriums and lounges would entertain the eye, and make the patron forget he was waiting. The result was an often abandoned mix of periods, cultures and themes.
The Centre is a stunning example of late Art Deco, probably inspired by the Spanish Mission style movie palaces being built by 20th Century Fox in the late twenties and early thirties. The predominant feature is the huge circular canopy marquee at the base of a ninety foot illuminated Mission style tower. The Centre appears to be a scale model of the grand Carthay Circle Theatre in Los Angeles, which was built in 1926 and long ago demolished.
The lobby is reached through an elongated sloping foyer, an initial introduction to the geometric orientation of Art Deco style. The lobby still shows the influence of earlier Art Deco works, such as the Waldorf-Astoria and the Queen Mary, with indirect lighting and the flattened, linear treatment of trim and cornice work giving the interior the two-dimensional look, characteristic of the Art Deco period.
Large murals in metallic relief were a common feature in Art Deco theatres at the time, and the Centre boasted two magnificent gold, brass and bronze inlaid murals. One depicted the seagulls devouring the crickets (later moved to a more prominent position). The subject of the second mural was a Greek centaur (a man's head and torso with a horse's body) drawing back an arrow in his archer's bow. The second (a priceless mural) disappeared during remodeling in the 1960s.
The Centre, like a mountain, has seen a procession of life and change in its 47 years. It played The Wizard of Oz, a blockbuster of the 1930s, and was still around to play the Star Wars series, the blockbuster of the 1980s. In its day, the Centre featured Ben-Hur, the most honored film in the industry and Heaven's Gate, the least honored. Many films played for well over a year, but some like Brimstone and Treacle baffled the Salt Lake audience and closed in two days.
At its opening in 1937, the Centre previewed a western adventure film, Wells Fargo with Joel McCrae, and now, the Centre gives Salt Lake The Last Temptation of Christ (an interesting commentary on the evolution of audience interest).
The drama at the Centre was not always on the screen.
At the premiere of Hawaii in 1966, the Centre audience was held captive by a knife-wielding man who ran across the stage slashing gaping holes in the screen as the movie played on unwatched. The only casualty aside from a bitten finger: the distracted audience missed the key scene in which Julie Andrews dies.
Of course, a similar scene was just repeated, with the film canisters from Last Temptation stolen and the screen again slashed and torn by a would-be censor.
The Centre was the last big theatre built in the downtown area. As the population moved away from the city, the theatre industry followed, resulting in the construction of the Villa Theatre on Highland Drive and the ill-fated Crest Theatre on 27th South and 23rd East. (The Crest closed within three years and few even remember it).
The Villa opened almost twelve years to the day after the premiere of the Centre, premiering Prince of Foxes with Orson Welles. Built in modernistic fifties style, the Villa is not significant for its exterior design as much as its state of the art technology (Cinemascope, Cinerama, Todd-AO) and complicated curtain presentations so spectacular that the spectacle was featured (in speeded up action) for the opening of the long-running television program, Kennecott Neighborhood Theater every Sunday night.
In 1948, antitrust actions forced Hollywood studios to relinquish their monopoly on the cinema trade. This meant divesting themselves of theatres and no longer holding exclusive distribution rights for their own houses. The encroachment of television, scattering population and later introduction of mall theatres combined to sound the death knell for the grand old movie palace, no longer efficient money makers.
The old movie palaces were, perhaps, overindulgent monuments to an age when America was truly romanced by the motion picture, but they are part of our legacy and elsewhere in the country many are being saved and restored along with other old buildings whose purposeful years have passed.
The Pan American building stands astraddle Grand Central Station (the old building unscathed) because New Yorkers refused to let developers tear it down. All across the country a movement has begun to save and restore the old houses that, due to economics and the lack of skilled artisans, could never be built again. (Something could be done to save the Centre, but in a city that seems to delight in destroying character in order to erect bland, mediocre and stultified architecture, it isn't likely).
Unlike many buildings, theatres and restaurants have a character and personality and even a life of their own, and it's sad to see them die. One more building falls, and with it lives and times are lost—the skyline loses one more old face. The look of Salt Lake is purified and like the memories of an inexperienced child the last old movie palaces vanish.
Salt Lake's Alternate Cinemas
Mann, Plitt, United Artists—one glance at the entertainment pages of the newspaper and it is apparent that the conglomerates are running the show when it comes to bringing films to various theatres around the city.
Look a little further down the page and a few small ads might catch the eye, ads with film titles maybe unfamiliar and obscure, from theaters called the Blue Mouse, the Avalon, and Cinema in Your Face.
The Avalon is the grand-daddy of Salt Lake City's alternative theaters, started by Art Proctor in 1963. This theater, originally a mainstream movie house, now specializes in the old movies made before 1960 and is located at 3605 South State Street.
The Blue Mouse also owes its existence to Proctor. In 1972 he decided the University crowd needed exposure to the classics like the Marx Brothers and Charlie Chaplin films, and so he started the Blue Mouse.
In 1977, Mike Urmann took over the theater, and four years later formed a partnership with Randy and Diane Lucky, who had worked for Urmann since his purchase. The theater was slowly refurbished between 1981 and 1983—structural changes, seat re-upholstery, and an upgrade of the projection equipment. (The theater is now again for sale as the owners are taking positions out of state, but the Blue Mouse remains open).
Along with alternate films, the Blue Mouse also promotes local artists through their lobby gallery; the exhibits change every month. A detailed film calendar is mailed to subscribers, with the balance of the 20,000 print run placed at different local outlets. The Mouse is at 260 East 100 South.
The newest of the alternative theaters is Cinema in Your Face! Originally the Cinema Art, the moviehouse was closed in the early 50s and then opened as an X-rated theater in the 70s. That phase ended in 1986, and then re-opened again as Art Cinema.
Jonathan Bray and Greg Tanner are the new owners, and opened Cinema in Your Face! in May 1987. The theater targets its films to certain audiences, and features a request list for patrons to suggest films they want to see. Calendars are distributed at various local outlets.
The owners also feature alternative live performances on selected evenings as a sort of follow-up to the closure of the Painted Word. (The Painted Word recently re-opened as The Word). The theater is located at 45 West Third South.
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