Movie Openings
I have attended three movie openings so far in my life. I thought it was two, but then I remembered another.
The last one I remembered wasn’t so much a movie opening as a radio promotion. The local radio station said they were having this grand movie opening and they mentioned all these famous named people that were going to be in attendance. I went and stood outside. There was a sizable crowd. There were the big search lights, the red carpet, the whole bit. I don’t remember the movie that was to be shown, but I, like the rest of the crowd, didn’t believe these big named stars were going to show up. Well, the radio station didn’t lie; and the big named stars didn’t show up. The station had found people with the same name as the stars. The limos pulled up and John Wayne got out. Not the John Wayne, but some guy named John Wayne. And so it went.
Okay, the next one I want to tell you about was the last movie opening I went to and it was a real movie opening. It was at Radio City and it was Francis Ford Copolla. The movie was “One From the Heart.” Never heard of it? Yeah, well, I think after it played Radio City that night it closed. Copolla was there and I could see him way down front. Folks cheered. The movie was strange. Like David Lynch strange or Warren Beatty’s “Dick Tracy” strange. Maybe, a mash up of the two would best describe it. Lots of night shots with bright neon. Scenes were introduced with a match being struck and lighting a fuse. Close up. Can’t tell you much about the film.
Lastly and probably the first movie premier I ever went to was a John Walters movie. John lives just north of the Johns Hopkins campus in Baltimore. He’s a strange dude. His films are strange, or rude, or crude, or different. It depends on your mindset I suppose. This had to be the early 70s so I’m guessing the film was either Pink Flamingoes or Female Trouble. I don’t remember. It was a midnight showing at a downtown Baltimore theater. The people who showed up looked like they could have been in the cast of one of his films. Not Hairspray, more like Pink Flamingoes.
The place was packed. There were a few open seats. But next to some sketchy folks. I finally found a seat down front. A big woman was sitting next to this empty seat. She was all dolled up. I thought perhaps the seat was saved for her date. So I asked, “Excuse me, is that seat taken?”
She turned and said in a slow husky deep voice, “No.”
I took the seat. The movie was kind of gross. Hey, it’s John Walters. It’s midnight. It’s Baltimore. What do you want?
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