Independent Exhibitors Film Bulletin (1952)

€xkibiUrA Could Well Emulate A lHaMet £/tctotttah ZS tfearA Aye We Need Roxy's Magic Touch ! BULLETIN 9eatute By Leonard Coulter We sat around munching roast beef sandwiches, or nibbling at turkey legs, and eyeing the two big birthday cakes. Xo one cut the cakes. So after a while, we gave up hope and fell to gentle reminiscence. Someone next to me asked, "Didn't Roxy die tragically, or mysteriously, or something?" That started it. Out came the story of that fabulous showman Samuel L. "Roxy" Rothafel. With $9,000,000 he put up a Moorish palace on a Seventh Avenue lot in New York City which had been used as a car barn. It was a mammoth monstrosity, with seats for 5,883 people — the largest theatre in the world in those days. It had everything. Remember, this was 1927 — a quarter of a century ago. But the house-that-Roxy-built was air-conditioned, had five huge organ consoles, a broadcasting studio and a rear projection machine which could throw animated scenic effects on the stage backdrop. There was a symphony orchestra of a hundred musicians, a ballet corps, a glee club, a line of precision dancers — the famous Rockettes of those days — and those ushers drilled with strict military discipline. Remember when they talked about :'drafting the Roxy ushers to fight the next war"? And his Roxy Theatre boasted the fanciest lighting outfit this side of the Great Galaxy. The boy in charge of the giant switchboard on that eventful opening day in March, 1927 was an apple-cheeked Irish scion named Vanderbilt Smith. "Jeff" Smith's there to this day, still the Roxy's chief electrician. Herman Ottersen, electrician, has been there a quarter-century, too. And so have John Janitz and Frank Nealy, projectionists. Some Sad Memories Not all the memories they can draw on are pleasant ones. The time, for instance, w-hen comedian Joe Jackson suffered a heart attack after his performance and dropped dead in the wings while the crowd was still applauding. Or that grim period in 1932 when the theatre closed down completely. When it reopened eight weeks later the company was in receivership, with Howard S. Cullman as trustee. And then, in the Great Depression's doldrum days when for two MARCH 24. 1 952 ROXY A Spirit of Adventure weeks beginning February 2, 1933, anyone who presented a Kolynos boxtop at the boxoffice was admitted free. The Roxy management sold the boxtops back to the Kolynos company for ten cents apiece — for a total of $10,587. By then, however, Roxy had left his garish, gold-domed cathedral. His fame as a showman had girdled the world. The Rockefellers beckoned him. They gave him the job of creating the Radio City Music Hall— an even costlier and bigger project than the Roxy. It was in ill-timed venture. No one had money to burn. The Music Hall's opening show caused no furores. Rothafel did all he knew— and he knew plenty. But none of the touches of genius availed Roxy at the Music Hall in those ugly, menacing years. Business continued to ebb. Roxy refused to believe that his magic touch had gone. He was right, of course. There was nothing wrong with him. It was the world's economy which was lopsided. He thought he could fight the financial blitz, and win. He felt positive the formula which had previously worked for him would work a^ain. So this time he ventured farther afield — into Philadelphia. It proved a dismal, costly experiment. Roxy never recovered from that blow. No matter what the doctors said when he passed on to his reward, the i;rcat showman died of a broken heart. Theatre Holds Records A sad story? Maybe; but if Roxy were alive today he'd be a happy man. In its 25 years the theatre that still bears his name has played 749 pictures, to 107.067,319 admissions and has grossed more than $78,876,000. No other house in the world has ever beaten the Roxy's total of 779,351 admissions for a four-week run, as in 1928 when "The Cock-Eyed World" was the attraction. Two other films hold the long-run records — "Wilson" and "The Razor's Edge." The biggest gross in one week was scored by "Forever Amber", which drew $180,589 in 1947. That's Show Business — high ups and low downs. David T. Katz, for 18 years identified with the Roxy and now its Executive Director, a topflight showman in his own right, recalls how the great showhouse was about to close down for the second time in 1934 when a Shirley Temple picture called "Baby Take a Bow" came along and saved the situation. Since then the Roxy's affairs have run more smoothly. It was taken over by the Fox Film Corporation in 1937 and that marked its turning point as a moneymaker. All these pinpoints of motion picture industry came between bites at our roast beef sandwiches at the Roxy's birthday party. According to personality we were moved to nostalgia, sadness or optimism — but mostly to nostagia. For — think of this — in the Roxy's golden days of 1928, which saw "In Old Arizona ", the first outdoor talkie, the theatre's top price was $1.50 plus 10 percent admission tax — a total of $1.65. Today's admission price is $1.80, the entire difference being the 20 percent Federal tax. Who dare say, in this era of zooming costs, that motion picture entertainment is not the best value for money' What other service or commodity 'Continued on Sext Page) 7