Chapter 7 Don Pancho’s Arts Theater
There were two exceptions, though, which ran 1:1.66, and therein lies an unexpectedly dramatic tale.
The Don Pancho Art Theater was one of the city’s and state’s first
“arthouse” theatres, concentrating on foreign, revival and independent
films, along with film-related events. Its history is a bit murky, but
newspaper ads offer information on screenings in 1962, and the Caliche
County Rendering Works, an alternative paper of the times, carried a
schedule for the theatre in 1968. Keif Henley shared that it closed in
about 1990. “It was owned by Joseph Esposito, a lawyer from Tucson,
who also owned The Loft....”
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“A bit murky?”
No no no.
Interviewed on television (22:01),
Jeff Berg apparently forgot what he had written and stated:
“And I believe it was called the Don Pancho before it became The Guild.”
No no no.
The basic history is not so murky.
I would love to meet and chat with Jeff Berg, but I don’t know how to reach him.
Look at that image.
It is one of only three photographs of Don Pancho’s that I have ever found.
It was taken circa 19 June 1983, early in the morning.
I had wanted to take photos back in the day, but I didn’t have a camera.
The building to the left was not there earlier.
Instead, it was an empty lot used for parking.
The recessed doorway on the left was the exit.
Inside, just to the left, was the little spiral staircase that led to the booth.
The recessed doorway on the right was the entrance.
In between was the box office and concession stand.
See the tiny little wooden ledge?
That was underneath the box-office window.
There is something brilliant about this design, but unless you saw it with your own eyes, you would not recognize it from this photo.
So I’ll walk you through it.
You will notice that there are no poster windows.
Rare is the cinema without poster windows.
What Don Pancho’s had instead were display cases.
Look at the left and look at the right.
Those are little rooms, each with three large windows.
Inside were reclining poster boards, onto which the movie posters were affixed.
If you look carefully, you can barely see the poster inside the right-hand display case.
That was the building’s one and only worthwhile piece of architectural design.
It was æsthetic and most pleasing.
Note also the handmade font, which was very much the style of the early 1960’s, but unlike most designs that reflect a particular time,
this one never got tiring.
It remained attractive, no matter how out-of-style it became.
The auditorium had a shallow rake, which made it a near certainty that you would end up sitting behind someone who completely blocked your view.
The aisle was in the center.
The booth was atop the lobby.
Between the lobby and the auditorium was a small entrance corridor, maybe seven feet long.
To the left of the corridor was the Gents’.
To the right of the corridor was the Ladies’.
Above the Gents’ was an office.
That office had an old wooden desk below a window that looked out to the screen and it had a monitor as well.
The office was so crammed with papers and crates of posters that it was unusable as an office.
Above the Ladies’ was an empty space that jutted out from the booth.
The door separating the booth from the office was about four feet tall,
though the ceiling was high enough that it was certainly possible to crouch inside.
Similarly, the door separating the booth from the empty space was also about four feet tall.
That empty space is where we used to poke out our heads to check the sound.
Below the screen was a tiny wooden platform, rising about a foot above the auditorium floor.
I’m nearly certain it was not added later.
It was there from the day the cinema first opened its doors.
Apparently it was installed for live performances, even though it was smaller than a loaf of bread.
(My memory puts it at about one foot high and six or seven feet deep, maybe eight, but no more.
I think it was centered, which would make it about 20 feet wide.
If it was not centered, then it could have been up to 25 feet wide.
I wish I could remember.
A newspaper report
gave it as 12 feet deep by 30 feet wide, which is impossible.
It was 25 feet wide at the very most, and as for being 12 feet deep, no way.)
Frank was correct.
No indoor cinema had opened in Albuquerque since
the Hiland, 4804 Central Ave SE, on 20 April 1950 (through 15 December 1995) — eleven years, actually.
Prior to that was
the State, 215 Central Ave NW, 12 October 1949 through 5 February 1974.
Then, working our way backwards, concentrating strictly on dedicated indoor purpose-built (or purpose-remodeled) commercial cinemas, we have
the Isleta (Esquire), 134 Isleta Blvd SW, 23 December 1948 through 3 January 1964,
the Yucca, 2609 4th St NW, 10 January 1947 through 1 September 1952,
the Ernie Pyle, 2121 4th St NW, 9 October 1946 through circa January 1956,
the Sandia, 1816 Central Ave SW, 10 May 1946 through 22 April 1956,
El Rey, 622 Central Ave SW, 27 June 1941 through 2 June 1968,
the Lobo, 3013 Central Ave NE, 19 August 1938 through 6 August 2000,
the Coronado, 113 1st St SW, 12 August 1938 through 10 March 1956,
La Sandia, 1220 S 3rd St SW, on 23 April 1937 through 2 March 1938,
the Chief, 206 Central Ave SW, 29 August 1934 through 29 September 1952,
the Liberty (Rio), 118 Central Ave SW, 1 December 1931 through 1 September 1952,
the Savoy (Aztec), 215 Central Ave SW, 11 August 1929 through 16 May 1930,
the KiMo, 423 Central Ave NW, 19 September 1927 through 13 December 1970,
the Sunshine, 120 Central Ave SW, on 1 May 1924 through circa September 1988,
the (second) Lyric, 312 Central Ave SW, 30 March 1918 through 3 February 1924,
the B, 202 Central Ave SW, 6 February 1915 through 22 April 1924,
the (first) Lyric (Ideal, Mission), 121 Central Ave NW, 16 April 1913 through 13 June 1949,
the Orpheum, 504 2nd St SW, 9 November 1911 through 5 November 1915,
the (third) Crystal, 219 2nd St SW, 9 October 1911 through 15 August 1932,
the Zamora # 1, 208 San Felipe St NW, circa 1909 through circa 1913,
the Zamora # 2, 1408 3rd St SW, circa 1909 through circa 1913,
the Pastime (Mesa), 213 Central Ave NW, 1 September 1909 through 21 February 1948,
the Gem, 122 Silver Ave SW, 5 June 1909 through through 14 December 1912,
the (second) Crystal, 120 Gold Ave SW, 16 September 1907 through 7 October 1911.
Too many. WAY too many. And only the KiMo was a looker.
Please let me begin this little essay on Don Pancho’s by being tedious and boring.
The tedious and boring stuff is just background.
It will get exciting in a little bit, I promise.
Let’s start with the prehistory.
Back in April 1978, out of curiosity, I visited UNM’s Zimmerman Library to look through the old city directories.
Well, that’s my memory, anyway.
Perhaps I visited the Downtown Library.
Whatever.
This is what I discovered about 2106 and 2108:
1926 |
2106 Central E |
Pig ’n’ Calf Barbecue |
1935 |
2106–8 Central E |
Pig Stand |
1941 |
2108 Central E |
Ben Franklin Stores, Horton’s Inc. |
1949 |
2108 Central E |
John D. Kaylor 5¢–$1.00 Store |
1952 |
2108 Central E |
US Corps of Engineers (sub-office), Board of Civil Service Examinations |
1957 |
2106 Central E |
University Café |
1960 |
2108 Central E |
VACANT |
1961 |
2108 Central E |
Don Pancho’s Arts Theater, Frank W. Scheer |
1967 |
2106 Central E |
Campus Laundry & Cleaning |
I would love to see all the plans and blueprints and permits.
It is unfortunate that the Albuquerque Planning Department kept so few records.
The above list confused me.
We now have tools that did not exist in 1978, and so I am using some of them.
We can see the original 2108 Central edifice on the
1942 Sanborn Map and again on the
February 1951 Sanborn Map.
Click on those links and see what you see.
The building is about 29' wide and about 100' deep.
There is 40' of empty pavement behind stretching out to the alley.
Here is what we discover from Newspapers.com and from other searches:
I assume this photo was taken circa February 1924, right around the opening,
probably one minute before opening the door to the public for the first time.
One of the two guys standing out in front is almost certainly Charley Ellis.
Note that the building is not as deep as it is now.
This postcard was probably issued in 1926, because you will see that,
despite “PIG & CALF” being baked onto the front of the building,
the caption at the top reads “CHARLEY’S PIG STAND CAFÉ.”
So, the name had been changed but the photo had not been updated.
There MUST have been an earlier postcard without that new caption and with a different text on the back.
(Reproduced by kind permission of Historic Albuquerque Inc., Jim Coad Collection.)
This was the first public announcement of the intent to develop more of this city block.
We see here that by February 1926, the Pig & Calf
had already been renamed the Pig Stand.
Charley Ellis is investing.
He had been leasing the land, but now he purchased it.
Less than a year later, from January through May 1935, he would build an addition onto the back of the building.
Note this advertisement’s claim: “15 Years at 2106.”
So, it originally opened circa February 1924.
Scroll back up.
We can see from the photo that the Pig Stand Café occupied both 2106 and 2108,
but 2108 was a driveway/parking lot/patio, and I suppose it was later used as a dining patio.
Now we learn that Charley Ellis together with his son Jack owned both properties, 2106 and 2108.
Better yet, we learn who the contractor was for 2108!
J.E. Box, or “Skipper,” as he called himself.
Birth name: James Andrew Earl Box
(b. 13 Apr 1896, Moniteau, MO;
d. 14 Mar 1964, VA Hospital, Albuquerque),
203 S Dartmouth.
2108 was built as another of the chain of Ben Franklin department stores, the first in Albuquerque.
Since the article mentions the Hilltop Bowling Alley, we might as well look at that, too.
It was at 2110 and had opened in about
May 1940
on the site of the former
Barber’s Food Store.
By the late 1940’s it was Broome’s
Furniture Company, which was
destroyed by arson in January 1953.
La Plante Gallery opened there at the end of
January 1965.
La Plante
was then
destroyed by fire not even half a year later.
By the time I first saw the area in about 1973, 2110 was an empty lot used for free parking.
So, is it $7,000 or $5,500?
Credits, credits, credits. I always like to know a building’s credits.
J.E. Box, general contractor. I can only assume he was also the architect.
Paul McClendon Plumbing Co.
So, if their papers still exist, if they still have photos, maybe we can do a few investigations.
Credits, credits, credits. I always like to know a building’s credits.
Wiring by Union Electric Co., though no individual names are supplied.
Standard Roof Co., though no individual names are supplied.
Superior Lumber Co., though no individual names are supplied.
So, if their papers still exist, if they still have photos, maybe we can do a few investigations.
So, who took over the business? Who now owned the several lots of land?
This is one of those times I did not seek out the answers.
The answers sought me out.
Well, some of them did.
Well, as you can tell from their names, Charley Ellis and Jack Livingston Ellis, they were Greek.
Michael Henry Perlin just wrote about the Pig Stand in his new book,
Albuquerque’s Butchers, Bakers & Candlestick Makers (2021).
It is from this book that we learn that the new owner of the Pig Stand was
William M. “Bill” Kirikos,
a fellow Greek immigrant and a close friend of the Ellis family.
Bill sold the place in 1954 and he and his wife, Georgia Bruskas-Caples (Konstanopoulos),
then purchased the Cactus Bar and Cocktail Lounge,
8011 Central Ave NE.
Bill died on
19 April 1963,
Georgia died on
29 July 1970,
and the Cactus died on
5 April 1979.
(Michael Henry Perlin’s three other books so far are
Albuquerque: A City of Towers (2017),
Albuquerque Notables and Their Homes (2018), and
Sacred Valley: Catholic Communities of Albuquerque and Vicinity (2020).
The four books are available for $30 each from Duke City Press,
712 Walter St SE, Albuquerque NM 87102-4246.
Make checks payable to Michael Perlin,
or pay electronically through PayPal to sleepingdogslie@yahoo.com.
For shipping outside the US, contact Michael at perlin5991@q.com to enquire about rates.)
Applications taken at 2108. The home was elsewhere.
You can see that there is now an extension at the back of the Pig Stand.
On the left, you can see the little building that later became Don Pancho’s.
Note that it is slightly recessed, in comparison with the Pig Stand.
That is no longer the case.
Once it became Don Pancho’s, the frontages of the two buildings were about even, or, at least, they appeared to be.
Note that the name on the building at the left ends with the letter O — or the number 0.
Remember, at least some Ben Franklin Stores had a logo out front that read:
To confuse matters, the sign for John D. Kaylor & Co. 5¢–$1.00 Variety Store
may well also have ended with a 0.
This postcard popped up on eBay, but I didn’t notice it until just after the auction closed and somebody else won it.
(Item number
203789821032 from buzzwds, 1 bid, $24.99, Jan 18, 2022, 6:01PM darn it darn it darn it.
Here’s another expired eBay listing.
Well, if these keep popping up, then eventually it will be my turn.)
The description of 203789821032
included a blurry image of the reverse:
So there you have it.
The reverse of this postcard is identical in every way to the reverse of the earlier postcard that appeared a little bit above.
Scroll back up and see for yourselves.
There’s no difference at all.
These two postcards were distributed by Alfred McGarr Advertising Service, PO Box 646,
8915 Cordova Ave NE, Albuquerque.
The product number for both was AAD-165 and they were both printed by Associated Litho of Des Moines.
I was hoping to use those clues to learn more about this image,
but I do not know when Associated Litho of Des Moines was in operation.
It doesn’t help that McGarr recycled his images and his texts and his product numbers, which renders an investigation well-nigh impossible.
The front signage ending in 0 was put up in November 1940 and may have remained there through late 1947
(Ben Franklin and Horton most likely ended their signs with a 0.)
New signage also ending in 0 may have been put up in early 1949
(Kaylor’s 5¢–$1.00) and may have remained through January 1951.
So, those are our parameters.
The photograph was shot at sometime in one of those two timespans.
My best guess is that this photo was taken rather early in that first time span, late 1940 or early 1941.
Though the photograph obviously consists more of touch-ups than of emulsion (note the asphalt parking lot painted green to resemble a lawn),
it does truly appear that the building on the left is in use and well-cared-for.
So, yeah, I would say late 1940 or early 1941.
Besides, the new owners, Mr. and Mrs. Kirikos, would certainly have wanted a replacement postcard
to advertise their business as soon as the old postcard was rendered entirely obsolete,
and that would definitely have been as soon as a building was standing at 2108,
and that would have been about November 1940.
So, that’s when this photograph was taken.
A date much later than that would not have made any business sense.
Then, for whatever it’s worth, the Pig Stand was sold (to whom?) and became the University Café sometime around
November 1954.
(Robert Alfred McGarr, b. 5 Nov 1894, Sandy Lake, PA; d. 11 Oct 1962, Albuquerque;
and click here
to see some more of his postcards.)
Zo, Ben Franklin lasted at 2108 from late November 1940 through mid-February 1942.
Horton’s may not have been chartered before, but it sure existed,
as we can discern from the 1941 City Directory quoted above.
Horton’s had been associated with Ben Franklin in some way,
and when Ben Franklin for whatever reason left, Horton’s took over, but it did not fare well.
It seems to have lasted only through June.
What happened when it closed, I do not know.
Did some other firm move in?
Did the original signage remain on the front?
Oh how this fooled me!
It would seem now that a Gladys W. King gobbled up Horton’s,
converted the establishment to Jerry’s Women’s Apparel,
and then changed the name again to The CAMPUS Shop.
But that is not what happened at all!
This advertisement was a misprint.
Jerry’s was at
1806 Central Ave SE.
Ben Franklin now came back!
It lasted from March 1944 through probably the end of May 1947, when it moved to the new
Nob Hill Center.
Here’s a photo of the new location
and here’s an article about the Nob Hill Center
and here’s an interview with Jerry Lane
who once ran my favorite book shop in the former Ben Franklin space.
King A. Wheeler appeared out of nowhere in late 1947
and immediately set about opening his Appliance Center at 2108.
Wheeler moved a mile up the street, to Amherst just south of Central, around early 1949.
In early 1949, John D. Kaylor & Co. 5¢–$1.00 Variety Store moved in, but it lasted only to the end of 1950.
So, Kirtland Air Force Base leased the building or perhaps purchased it. From whom?
A low bid of $655 and a high bid of $1,429.36 would indicate that the renovations (and remodeling?) were minimal.
Credits, credits, credits. I always like to know a building’s credits.
Wiggs Construction Co. & Associates did the building’s first remodeling.
So, if their papers still exist, if they still have photos, maybe we can do a few investigations.
It was probably in the second half of 1959 that KAFB terminated its lease on the property, or put it up for sale, whichever.
The 1960 City Directory lists the property as VACANT.
Then the cinema happened.
Here’s what little background I have been able to scrape together.
George C. Scheer, a councilman in Holden, Missouri, moved to Albuquerque in 1907
and established the Scheer & Warlick furniture shop.
Soon enough, he became a councilman in Albuquerque as well,
and when Warlick retired, the shop changed its name simply to the Scheer Furniture Company.
By February 1912 George’s two sons, Otto and Frank, became partners in the company.
George died in 1945, and in 1946 Otto became Frank Junior’s guardian.
Frank Junior graduated from Albuquerque High School in April 1949, just before his dad was officially declared insane. Dad passed away in March 1953.
Frank was by now at UNM studying engineering, and he made the youthful mistake of marrying a fellow student, Anita Clare Carr, in November 1954.
That was a mistake that haunted him deeply for the remainder of his life.
Frank made the dean’s honor roll and graduated, probably, in June 1958.
He established his own construction company (the name of the firm is unknown to me), and, because he enjoyed “artsy” films,
he decided to convert a small building into a cinema to rival the Lobo.
(I have found only a single reference to a newly chartered firm called
Pancho’s Construction Co., Inc., 706 Georgia Street SE, in March 1963,
but I do not know if that’s Frank’s firm and I have no indication that he was in any way connected with a Georgia Street address.)
Frank Scheer most likely served as his own architect and engineer.
He added three protrusions to the front to make the building appear more or less even with the Pig Stand,
and he attached a new frontage that was maybe two feet taller than the roof.
Without access to the blueprints and plans, I can only guess, based on the postcard and on my own memories.
The original J.E. Box building must have had a very small second-story office over the entrance.
Beyond that 10' entrance, the remainder of the building must have been considerably more squat.
Not being a structural engineer myself (to my everlasting regret), I can only make a guess,
and if I’m wrong I’m prepared to be a laughing stock.
My guess is that, except for the two stories up front, the bulk of the original J.E. Box building was not designed to withstand a second story.
Frank used that second-story office as a projection booth.
It would not surprise me if he wanted to raise the roof of the entire building, but doing so would have caused the whole structure to collapse.
Instead of following the standard design, he came up with a bizarre compromise:
In any other booth, the projectionist stands.
At Don Pancho’s, nope, we had to squat or sit in a really low chair, which was really quite awkward.
The beam of light emanating from the lens was the smallest fraction of an inch away from hitting the auditorium ceiling.
So easy to make a mistake! And I did. I got image onto the ceiling, but only for a second before I corrected it.
Don Pancho’s (or Donald Pancho’s, as I preferred to call it), 2108 Central Ave SE, 238 seats
(not 280, not 262 — I counted them), was like the early storefront nickelodeons in that it was a cheap and hasty conversion.
It was entirely unlike the early storefront nickelodeons in another way, though.
The early storefront nickelodeons were startling and they had live music.
(Example.
Example.
Example.
Example.
Example.
Poor example but interesting anyway.
Example.
Example.)
Donald Pancho’s, on the other hand, was just a dark, empty box, quite dismal and dreary, really.
And cramped. And with dreadful sightlines.
Frank William Scheer, Jr.,
was co-owner with his friend Donald Dee Dunham (622 13th St NW).
Scheer was about 29 years of age and Dunham was about 31.
Don Pancho’s was Albuquerque’s first independent “art house,” and the college kids loved it.
The Lobo, a mile east, had already been running “art films,”
but it was a bit of a walk from the heart of the campus
and it had an impersonal, corporate feel about it.
Donald Pancho’s, on the other hand, was right across the street from the heart of the campus,
it was intimate and down-home, and it was owned and operated by people who loved cinema.
Don Pancho’s opened on
Friday, 14 April 1961 with
Mating Time (aka
The Bridal Path) and an Academy Award-winning cartoon with Carl Reiner called
The Violinist.
For whatever it’s worth,
there was a new “marquee” by May 1962.
I put “marquee” in quotes for a reason, as you can see from the photo.
I do not know what the old marquee looked like.
When I was sifting through the online index of Variety, I ran across a mention of a Don Pancho.
Hmmmmm.
Well, in Gustave Aimard’s 1863 novel,
The Adventurers: A Story of a Love-Chase,
we discover a General Don Pancho Bustamente.
I later discovered that Don Pancho was
a comic high-wire performer with the Shrine Circus in the early 1940’s.
In a 1939 Jorge Negrete movie called
Juan sin Miedo,
an actor named
Jorge Marrón portrayed Don Pancho (the DVD from Venus Pictures B.B. Business Services of Van Nuys is out of print).
Ex-vaudevillian
Charles Judels portrayed a character named Don Pancho in a 1940 movie called
Viva Cisco Kid (skip ahead to 0:03:32).
Five years later, in a movie called Caminos de Sangre, Lauro Benítez portrayed a Don Pancho González
(the DVD from Camara Corp. is out of print).
A 1954 movie called
Los Fernández de Peralvillo has Andrés Soler portray a character named “don Pancho.”
A 1957 Pedro Infante movie called
Tizoc (Amor Indio) has Carlos Orellana portray a Don Pancho García (skip ahead about 28 minutes).
We search in the old newspapers and discover numerous real Don Panchos,
one of whom was better known as Pancho Villa (Albuquerque Morning Journal,
24 April 1911,
27 May 1916).
There were also several newspaper articles that mentioned
the Hon. Francisco/Frank “Don Pancho” Hubbell, a corrupt and pitiless Republican county judge and campaigner
(Albuquerque Morning Journal,
1 July 1928,
15 July 1928,
5 August 1928).
A contestant in a dog show was named Cress Brook Don Pancho Pinto, owned by Henry G. Coors
(Albuquerque Morning Journal,
23 September 1931).
Of more interest was a difference of a vowel, Don Poncho, who popped up in a news article:
So, who was the cinema named after?
Aimard’s tyrannical general?
The late band leader? Pancho Villa? The abstemious cowboy?
The Honorable Don Pancho, staunch Republican county judge, casual acquitter of those who burned children’s faces with branding irons?
Mr. Coors’s dog?
The characters in some obscure movies?
The high-wire acrobat?
Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, and nope.
The two owners were Don Dee Dunham and Frank William “Pancho” Scheer, Jr.
That’s where the name came from.
Some, probably all, of the film-related equipment had been purchased used in 1961.
Why do I say that?
Simply because those picture heads and sound heads were no longer being manufactured by 1961.
I would love know where the equipment had originally been installed.
Donald Pancho’s was originally set up solely for Academy 1:1.375, but the bottom of the picture landed on the people in the first few rows,
and shadows of their heads were at the bottom of the screen.
How do I know?
Physical evidence.
When nobody was looking, I ran 1:1.375 for a minute to see what it would look like.
It exactly fit the height from the top of the screen to two inches above the platform.
That was too perfect to have been a coincidence.
If I cranked the machine down any more at all, say just about a 64th of an inch, the bottom of the picture was on the backs of the seats.
When I turned the crank of the base back up, the beam of light was no longer on the backs of the seats,
and the top of the beam exactly hit the top masking.
What I could almost bet happened was that, after a day or two,
Mr. Don and Mr. Pancho ordered the projectionist to run the films at 1:1.66 and they probably added a bottom masking at that time.
Not long afterwards, as we shall deduce below, the screen was replaced by one that was wider but not as tall.
Ah. I dug up my notes.
At Don Pancho’s, there were two and only two lenses per machine.
The spherical Kollmorgen Super Snaplites had an e.f. of 4.5",
and the primes for the anamorphics were 7".
I think those were Bausch & Lombs, but I really don’t remember.
The throw was 81½'.
So, let’s do some calculating — or cackle-ating, as Albuquerqueans of the time were wont to say.
Here’s the formula, which nobody else would ever sell you for any amount of money:
Throw (in feet) × Aperture Height or Width (in inches) | = | e.f. of Lens (in inches) |
Screen Height or Width (in feet) |
Shall we plug in some numbers?
Okay.
(81.5×.497)/9=4.5"
So, there we go.
At 1:1.375, the image would have been 10'10½" tall by 15' wide.
At 1:1.66, the screen masking was opened to 9' tall by 15' wide.
At 1:1.75, it was 8½' tall by 15' wide.
At 1:1.85, it was 8'1" tall by 15' wide.
At 1:2.00, it was 7½' tall by 15' wide (rare).
The setting of 10'10½" tall by 15' wide was long gone by the time I first entered the building.
The tallest setting was 9' tall by 15' wide.
Now, there was a tiny bit more screen at the bottom, always covered by the black masking.
Precisely, there was an extra 4¾" that was always covered.
When Donald Pancho’s ran the “MGM Festival” from 8 April through 5 May 1977,
someone decided that something needed to be done.
Rather than pull the proper lenses out of storage, or rather than rent or purchase other lenses,
the guys just decided to open up that extra 4¾" at the bottom and to file out a pair of spare apertures to match.
The result, Ernie proudly demonstrated to me, was 1:1.59. Wow. Why was I not impressed?
Shall we plug in the numbers for anamorphic?
Yeah! Let’s do it!
At .715"×.839", the resulting image would have been 8'4" tall by 19½" wide,
but even though the apertures were there, the screen wasn’t that wide, and so this setting could never be used.
At .715"×.715", the resulting image was 8'4" tall by 16'8" wide.
At .650"×.775", the resulting image was 7'7" tall by 18' wide.
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Pancho wanted only to own the business, not run it.
His business partner, Don Dee Dunham, would manage the place on his behalf.
Then, within about four weeks, Don ran off,
which left Pancho the unplanned onus of operating not merely his construction company by day,
but the cinema by night as well.
Within a few weeks of opening, an anamorphic print arrived.
I have no documentation on this.
I am drawing realistic conjectures based upon the physical evidence that I saw but that no longer exists.
Pancho must have hurriedly purchased a new screen, one that was wider and not as tall,
and told his construction crew to drop whatever they were doing and hightail it to the cinema to tend to the emergency.
It would not surprise me if, for the first few days of the anamorphic film, the projectionist ran it with spherical lenses at 1:1.66,
which would have looked dreadful.
That’s a guess. I do not know.
A local reviewer would have told us, but what made it to the local papers were merely snippets of the press kit.
It appears that there were no local press screenings and no local reviews of films shown at Donald Pancho’s in those early days.
So, instead of evidence, we are left with silence.
Once the new screen was purchased, there was another difficulty.
The emergency exit was immediately to the right of the Academy screen.
The only place for extra screen width was on the left.
Awkward? You bet!
To run anamorphic, the projectionist would open the left side of the masking and use either .715"×.715"
or an undersized 1:2.33 (.650"×.775"), as opposed to the correct .715"×.839", which was not available.
In either case, the projectionist needed to point the projectors to the left by shoving a wrench under the bases and scooting them.
The right-to-left keystoning was more than noticeable and it was terribly annoying.
The bottom masking always sagged and so there was a brick and a set of little pieces of wood underneath the middle to prop it up.
Anamorphic, as well as 1:1.75, 1:1.85, and 1:2.00, needed the bottom masking raised by hand, in full view of the audience.
Let us perform a little experiment. |
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Tillie’s Punctured Romance would open at the Lobo on Thursday, 25 May 1961,
and it was distributed by Continental Distributing, Inc.,
which had acquired it sometime around
July 1959.
Who did the music and narration, heaven only knows.
The movie was not complete, but ran only
40 minutes at 90'/min, about 3,600',
the same as the length of the
Futter brothers’ version from 1939, and that is what this almost certainly was,
though with a different soundtrack.
It was a hundredth-generation dupe, so murky and blurry
that it was impossible to make out much of the image.
It was NOT from the original camera negative.
Oh the lies they tell.
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Helpful Hint: If you ever decide to watch Expresso Bongo, please make sure to watch the original uncut version,
which has been almost impossible to find since it was withdrawn from release in 1962.
BFI’s “Flipside” DVD/Blu-Ray includes the shortened reissue version,
but it also includes the complete original version, heavens be praised!
Other video editions derive solely from the shortened 1962 reissue, which made the pointless mistake of deleting all the highlights.
Without those highlights, the film was rendered entirely worthless.
In the original, the outlandish comedy softened the abrasiveness.
Without the musical-comedy highlights, the abrasiveness was thrown into sharper relief and it became unendurable.
Those few alterations turned it into an entirely different movie.
Those few alterations converted a good movie into a very bad movie indeed. |
Expresso Bongo, correct presentation, 1:2.35 anamorphic |
Expresso Bongo, incorrect presentation, 1:1.66 spherical |
By the way, just to make it crystal clear, there is NOTHING in the least bit offensive about
Expresso Bongo.
Neither is there anything in the least bit offensive about
Never on Sunday.
Ditto with Saturday Night and Sunday Morning.
There is NOTHING offensive about them.
Zilch. Nada.
It is impossible to be scandalized by those films.
As for being corrupting, I would love to meet someone who was corrupted by any of those movies.
Yet, at the time, the Catholic Church’s Legion of Decency condemned all three films
and forbade the faithful from viewing them.
Here is a wire story from the National Catholic (NC) News Service:
The condemnation from the Catholic Church was the best advertising that Don Pancho’s
could have possibly have received.
Business boomed and Never on Sunday was a sell-out smash success.
As far as I know, the first six programs at Donald Pancho’s were all Albuquerque premières.
Judging from the changes in programming a mile up the Avenue,
it is clear that Donald Pancho’s bit a huge chunk of the Lobo’s audience away.
Well, what’s good for the gander is good for the goose, as would become evident nine years hence.
I should mention that there was another anomaly:
There was a vertical I-beam immediately behind the perforated screen, a couple of feet from the left side,
and so there was always a bright line there.
The idea of putting black construction paper in front of the I-beam, or maybe painting it flat black, never occurred to anybody.
I wanted to do something about that problem but I never had access to the area behind the screen.
To my everlasting annoyance and irritation, NOBODY, and I mean NOBODY, ever complained about that painfully obvious fault in the image.
NOBODY.
Had even one person mentioned it, had even one other person even NOTICED it,
I would have been eternally grateful.
But NOBODY, NOBODY, NOBODY noticed, and to this day that continues to drive me bonkers.
We are all jaded now.
We are inundated by moving images nearly every waking moment.
Pretty much any movie we wish to see is available on the Smartphone that’s in our pocket or in our purse,
and our reactions are humdrum.
There is no deep interest in movies anymore, no sense of community, no sense of excited anticipation.
In 1961, though, movies were pretty much available only at the cinema,
and the cinemas all presented the same old dreary Hollywood formulæ with exaggerated bad acting,
hack scripts, ridiculous heroics, and endless streams of bandits getting caught by the cops.
The Lobo, which was pretty much the only cinema in town that presented items that were more interesting, did so irregularly.
Then, out of nowhere, came Donald Pancho’s,
which immediately launched a rapid succession of daring movies that nobody in town had even known about before.
It was an eye-opener.
It was a thrill.
It changed movie-going habits.
Even today, looking through the original schedule, I can feel the excitement.
Alas, I am probably the only person still alive who can still feel that excitement.
We are all jaded now.
Remainder of the Films That Frank Scheer Presented at Don Pancho’s Arts Theater
(I love that old movie-ad style that had a simple logo with a simple line drawing.
So elegant, so attractive, so memorable, so economical. Why did it go out of fashion?)
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Fri 02 Jun 1961 |
Black Orpheus (1959; premièred at the Lobo 12 May 1960) (Blu-ray)
SHORT:
Vista Vision Visits Gibraltar (1956) (by James A. FitzPatrick, never issued on home video,
might be a lost film) (Click to
page 24
for “Para. Shows Horizontally Projected VV,” which continues on page 30.)
By the way, as far as I know, all the films shown at Donald Pancho’s up to this time had been Albuquerque premières.
Black Orpheus was, I think, the first revival.
It had played at the Lobo from
Thursday,
12 May 1960, through
Saturday, 21 May 1960.
As for the films that Frank would book over the next year or so, the vast majority were Albuquerque premières,
I’m quite sure. Even the ones that were a decade or more old were mostly Albuquerque premières. |
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Fri 09 Jun 1961 |
Fanfan the Tulip (1952, CROPPED; Albuquerque première) (DVD)
SHORT:
Vista Vision Visits Spain (1955) (by James A. FitzPatrick, never issued on home video, might be a lost film) |
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Fri 16 Jun 1961 |
Never on Sunday (1960, New Mexico première) (DVD)
SHORT:
Day of the Painter (1960, CROPPED)
(Never issued on home video.
The
copyright owner was
involuntarily dissolved by court order.
Several 16mm copies are known still to exist:
the
University of Michigan Library,
the
Ball State University Bracken Library,
the
Stanford University, Department of Art and Art History, Documentary Film Program, Motion Pictures SC1249 SC1249 SC1249, Box 18,
the
USC School of Cinematic Arts, The HMH Foundation Moving Image Archive,
and there are either two 16mm copies or two reels of a single 35mm copy at the
Eddy Manson Collection 1945–1996 at UCLA Performing Arts Special Collections, Young Research Library, Room 22478 Box 95175 in Box 57, Folder 0, together with a 7" open-reel analogue tape of the music score in “Series 1. Film, Television and Radio Projects,” Box 105.
There is also a one-light video copy available for viewing by appointment at the
UCLA Film & Television Archive.
There are probably a few other copies floating about, but I don’t know where to find them.)
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Mon 24 Jul 1961 |
My Uncle (1958; premièred at the Lobo on 15 Jan 1959) (Blu-ray)
SHORT:
Vista Vision Visits Japan (1955) (by James A. FitzPatrick, never issued on home video, might be a lost film)
My Uncle was another revival.
It had played at the Lobo from
Thursday,
15 January 1959,
through
Wednesday, 28 January 1959.
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Fri 04 Aug 1961 |
Lucky Jim (1957; Albuquerque première) (DVD)
SHORT:
City of Gold (1957, CROPPED) (never issued on home video, but officially available online free of charge) |
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Fri 11 Aug 1961 |
And God Created Woman (1956; premièred at the Esquire on 05 Jul 1960) (DVD)
SHORT:
Vista Vision Visits Hawaii (1955) (by James A. FitzPatrick, never issued on home video, might be a lost film)
The English dub of And God Created Woman had played at the Esquire from
Tuesday,
5 July 1960,
through
Thursday,
13 July 1960.
The print at Donald Pancho’s was presumably subtitled, but it’s impossible to know for sure. |
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Thu 17 Aug 1961 |
Tight Little Island (aka Whiskey Galore, 1949, CROPPED; premièred at UNM on 13 :Mar 1954)
(DVD)
SHORT:
Vista Vision Visits Norway (1954) (by James A. FitzPatrick, never issued on home video, might be a lost film)
I am not aware of any previous local commercial bookings of Tight Little Island,
though a 16mm print was shown publicly at UNM on
Saturday, 13 March 1954. |
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Thu 24 Aug 1961 |
The Man in the Raincoat (1957; Albuquerque première)
(Italian DVD, PAL Region 2)
SHORT:
Vista Vision Visits Mexico (1955) (by James A. FitzPatrick, never issued on home video, might be a lost film) |
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Thu 31 Aug 1961 |
The Bed (1954, CROPPED; premièred at the Lobo on 26 Sep 1956)
(never officially issued on home video; the Italian dub, Il letto, is on
DVD RW)
SHORT:
Vista Vision Visits Sun Trails (1955) (by James A. FitzPatrick, never issued on home video, might be a lost film) |
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Thu 07 Sep 1961 |
Fruits of Summer (1955, CROPPED; Albuquerque première)
(French DVD, PAL Region 2)
SHORT:
In the Park (18 Mar 1915, CROPPED; premièred at the B on 23 Apr 1915. Who was the distributor? Hoffberg? Who did the music?)
(Superior edition on
Blu-ray.)
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In the Park, Silent, .6796"×.90625" |
In the Park, at Don Pancho’s, .497"×.825" |
In the Park, Silent, .6796"×.90625" |
In the Park, at Don Pancho’s, .497"×.825" |
Why am I the only person on the planet who can see that there’s a problem here? |
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Thu 14 Sep 1961 |
The Ladykillers (1955, CROPPED; premièred at the Lobo on 09 May 1956) (Blu-ray)
SHORT:
The Stratford Adventure (1954) with Alec Guinness (never issued on home video, but available online)
The Ladykillers had played at the Lobo from
Wednesday, 9 May 1956, through
Tuesday, 15 May 1956. |
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Thu 21 Sep 1961 |
Cyrano de Bergerac (1950, CROPPED; Albuquerque première)
(Blu-ray)
SHORT:
Every Inch a Man (1915, CROPPED, William S. Hart; abridgment of
Tools of Providence. Who was the distributor?)
(The full version is available on DVD.
The abridgment may have vanished by now.)
As far as I know, this was the Albuquerque première of Cyrano de Bergerac.
Every Inch a Man had played at the Crystal on
Sunday,
26 January 1919.
I am not aware that the original Tools of Providence had ever played in Albuquerque. |
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Thu 28 Sep 1961 |
Secrets of Women (aka Waiting Women, 1952, CROPPED, Albuquerque première)
(Blu-ray)
SHORT:
The Running, Jumping and Standing Still Film (1959, CROPPED)
(DVD)
I think this was the Albuquerque première of both the short and the feature. |
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Thu 05 Oct 1961 |
Love and the Frenchwoman (1960; Albuquerque première)
(VHS) |
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Thu 12 Oct 1961 |
The Truth (1960; Albuquerque première)
(DVD-R)
ANIMATED SHORT:
Report on Love (1955) (on DVD as a supplement) |
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Thu 26 Oct 1961 |
Never on Sunday (1960; premièred at Don Pancho’s on 16 Jun 1961) (DVD)
SHORT:
The Mischief Makers (Les mistons, 1957)
(UK Blu-ray Region B
is out of print)
Never on Sunday was a revival.
Don Pancho’s had premièred it on 16 June 1961 and kept it running for more than five weeks, through 23 July 1961,
and now it was back to run a further two weeks. |
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Thu 09 Nov 1961 |
Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (1960; Albuquerque première)
(Blu-ray)
SHORT:
The Bespoke Overcoat (1955; premièred at the Lobo on 02 Jun 1959)
(DVD) |
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Thu 23 Nov 1961 |
The Man Who Wagged His Tail (1957; Albuquerque première)
(Spanish DVD, PAL Region 0,
Italian DVD, PAL Region 2) |
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Thu 30 Nov 1961 |
Ashes and Diamonds (1958; Albuquerque première)
(Blu-ray)
SHORT:
On the Twelfth Day... (1955; Albuquerque première) (never issued on home video, but available online) |
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Thu 07 Dec 1961 |
A Cold Wind in August (1961; Albuquerque première)
(DVD)
SHORT:
When the Wind Blows (1956, Nicholas Hardinge) (on home video once upon a time from the East Anglian Film Archive, but I can’t find it; see also page 10) |
Sun 24 Dec 1961 |
Closed for the Holidays |
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Wed 03 Jan 1962 |
The Anatomy of Love (1954; Albuquerque première)
(DVD-R) |
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Thu 11 Jan 1962 |
Man in the Moon (1960; Albuquerque première)
(DVD) |
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Thu 18 Jan 1962 |
Mon petit (aka Monpti, 1957; Albuquerque première)
(DVD-R) |
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Thu 25 Jan 1962 |
Kanal (1957; Albuquerque première)
(DVD) |
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Thu 01 Feb 1962 |
The Seventh Seal (1958, CROPPED; premièred at UNM on 14 May 1960)
(Blu-ray)
UNM had already presented this, in 16mm, on
Saturday, 14 May 1960.
As far as I know, that was Albuquerque’s only previous screening of this film. |
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Thu 08 Feb 1962 |
The Lovers (1958; Albuquerque première)
(DVD) |
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Thu 22 Feb 1962 |
Fate of a Man (1959, CROPPED; Albuquerque première)
(DVD-R)
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Thu 01 Mar 1962 |
The Horse’s Mouth (1958; premièred at the Lobo on 25 Mar 1959)
(DVD)
This had run at the Lobo from
Wednesday,
25 March 1959, through
Tuesday, 7 April 1959. |
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Thu 08 Mar 1962 |
Breathless (1960, CROPPED; Albuquerque première) (Blu-ray) |
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Thu 15 Mar 1962 |
The Devil’s Eye (1960, CROPPED; Albuquerque première)
(Blu-ray) |
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Thu 22 Mar 1962 |
The Love Game (1960; Albuquerque première)
(DVD+R,
French Blu-ray Region B) |
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Thu 29 Mar 1962 |
Tunes of Glory (1960; premièred at the Lobo on 30 Mar 1961)
(Blu-ray)
This had run a year earlier at the Lobo,
Thursday,
Thursday, 30 March 1961, through
Wednesday, 12 April 1961. |
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Thu 05 Apr 1962 |
The Red Shoes (1948, CROPPED; premièred at the Sunshine on 05 Dec 1949)
(Blu-ray)
The Red Shoes had opened at the Sunshine on
Monday, 5 December 1949, and it ran only through
Friday, 9 December 1949.
It seems that Albuquerque Exhibitors, Inc., realized it had made a mistake in dumping the movie so quickly; so
The Red Shoes returned to the Sunshine on
Friday, 23 June 1950, “now at popular prices!,”
and ran all of four days, closing on
Monday, 26 June 1950.
The movie became an oddity that the bookers simply puzzled over and could never work out.
They kept it popping back here and there.
It was at the Tesuque Drive-In from
Sunday, 13 August 1950 through
Tuesday, 15 August 1950.
It was at the Hiland on
Wednesday and Thursday, 1 and 2 November 1950,
and, finally, it got to the Lobo, but only for three days beginning on
Monday, 14 April 1952.
This is an early example of showbiz execs treating an oddball movie as though it’s just any other stupid movie.
There are odd blips on the box-office radar that seem to show some promise,
and so they give it a second chance, and a third, and a fourth, but continue treating as though it’s just any other stupid movie.
The showbiz execs paid no heed to the programming at UNM, which had developed a small but loyal audience.
In all likelihood, they were completely unaware of the UNM programming.
If they had heard of it, then they ignored it as something beneath their contempt.
Had they been intelligent and thoughtful
(“showbiz exec” — “intelligent and thoughtful” — contradiction in terms)
they would all have paid to become members of the Film Study Society of UNM
and they would have attended with some frequency and studied the phenomenon.
Had they done that, they could have made a difference and they could have created something wonderful in Albuquerque.
Movies such as The Red Shoes do not work the way most movies work.
Audiences for movies such as The Red Shoes take offense at business-as-usual.
They do more than take offense.
They are repelled and sickened by business-as-usual.
It would be like attending a concert of Grieg and Prokofiev, only to have each piece interrupted
by a series of loud advertisements for Coca-Cola and Chevy convertibles,
while gigantic neon billboards in the lobby and auditorium flash on and off, extolling the virtues of Wrigley’s chewing gum.
It’s just wrong.
Movies such as The Red Shoes require an entirely different environment,
and that concept was and to this day remains entirely beyond the comprehension of showbiz execs. |
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Thu 12 Apr 1962 |
Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949, CROPPED; premièred at the Lobo on 12 Nov 1950)
(DVD)
This had run at the Lobo for four days beginning on
Sunday, 12 November 1950. |
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Thu 19 Apr 1962 |
Purple Noon (1960; Albuquerque première)
(Blu-ray) |
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Wed 02 May 1962 |
Smiles of a Summer Night (1955, CROPPED, Albuquerque première)
(Blu-ray) |
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Wed 09 May 1962 |
Throne of Blood (1957, CROPPED, Albuquerque première)
(Blu-ray) |
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Thu 17 May 1962 |
The Five Day Lover (1961, Albuquerque première)
(Blu-ray) |
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Thu 24 May 1962 |
Never on Sunday (1960; premièred at Don Pancho’s on 16 Jun 1961)
(DVD)
Never on Sunday was revived yet again.
This was the third booking.
Don Pancho’s had premièred it on 16 June 1961 and kept it running for more than five weeks, through 23 July 1961.
It had returned to run a further two weeks, 26 October through 8 November 1961.
Now it was back to run yet one more week. |
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Thu 31 May 1962 |
No Love for Johnnie (1961, Albuquerque première)
(Australian DVD, PAL Region 4) |
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Thu 07 Jun 1962 |
FEATURETTE:
A Night with Charlie Chaplin
(1954,
CROPPED, Albuquerque première).
Okay, hang on. This is driving me crazy.
What on earth was A Night with Charlie Chaplin?
I had never heard of it before, and I thought I had heard of all the known Charlie releases.
The IMDb makes not a mention of this film.
I spent most of the night, fighting off sleep, to find out.
My research was minimal, just a lot of Internet searches that anybody could do but that I don’t think anybody has done.
My Internet searches reveal that the idea for this movie goes back to 1937,
and that it was to have been called Charles Chaplin — I Knew Him When,
an anthology film that was created by Frederick William Futter,
who used footage from
Dough and Dynamite,
His Trysting Places,
Caught in a Cabaret, and
His Prehistoric Past.
A legal challenge from the Chaplin Company put a stop to the release until 1954,
when it was issued under a different title by a different distributor.
If you want to know the story,
click here.
For the record,
His Trysting Place[s] ran at the Pastime on
Friday, 1 January 1915, and, by some inexplicable miracle, it returned on
Tuesday, 20 July 1915;
His Prehistoric Past ran at the Pastime on
Friday, 29 January 1915, and, by yet another inexplicable miracle, it ran again on
Saturday, 7 August 1915;
Dough and Dynamite ran at the Pastime on
Friday, 15 January 1915
(advertisement misprinted, title not supplied, but it had to have been Dough and Dynamite)
and, by yet one more inexplicable miracle, it ran again on
Tuesday, 11 May 1915; and
Caught in a Cabaret ran at the Pastime on
Saturday, 18 September 1915.
An even bigger miracle: That any of these films survived.
The biggest miracle yet: That they were ever shown again.
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His Trysting Places, silent, .6796"×.90625" |
His Trysting Places, at Don Pancho’s, .497"×.825" |
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Tue 12 Jun 1962 |
Love Is My Profession (1958, Albuquerque première)
(DVD) |
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Thu 21 Jun 1962 |
The Kitchen (1961, Albuquerque première) (UK DVD, PAL Region 2 is out of print) |
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Thu 28 Jun 1962 |
From a Roman Balcony (1960; Albuquerque première)
(DVD-R) |
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Thu 05 Jul 1962 |
The Green Mare (1959; Albuquerque première)
(French DVD, PAL Region 2) |
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Fri 13 Jul 1962 |
A Summer to Remember
(aka Splendid Days or
Серёжа, 1960; Albuquerque première)
(never released on home video, but available online) |
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Wed 18 Jul 1962 |
Lady Chatterley’s Lover (1955; premièred at the Esquire on 28 Jul 1960)
(French DVD, PAL Region 2, full version, never shown in the US).
The same altered and abridged US version shown at Don Pancho’s — actually, probably the exact same print —
had run at the Esquire from
Thursday,
28 July 1960, through
Wednesday, 3 August 1960.
Yes, it was the altered and shortened US version that played at the Esquire and at Don Pancho’s.
We know that for certain, because the full, original French version has never shown in this country.
The shortened, altered US edition is online
here.
The ad says “IN ITS ENTIRETY,” but what that means is the altered and abridged US version in its entirety,
without censor cuts. It does NOT mean the entire movie in its entirety. It means the abridgment in its entirety. |
The worst aspect of the whole mess was that Pancho’s wife Anita filed for divorce, and the divorce was nasty.
This was mentioned in the newspaper, but without details.
I only just now learned the basic story.
Pancho’s memories entirely merged his marriage, his child, and the cinema.
Pancho no longer had the stomach for the cinema.
He needed to get away, and so he sold the building as soon as he could.
I so wanted to chat with Pancho about the early days,
but about all he would tell me before cutting off the call after maybe three minutes
was that the whole experience was so traumatic that he preferred not to think about it, much less talk about it.
To my surprise, he knew my name already — and he knew I had been a projectionist at Don Pancho’s!
How he knew that, I do not know,
unless maybe he had stayed in touch with Mrs. A who kept him informed about the latest news.
Then in May 2021, just weeks after I spoke with him, he passed away.
What was the trauma?
I had imagined that the other local cinema owners had decided to teach him a lesson,
but no, that was not what had happened at all.
The trauma, it turns out, was the divorce, which evolved into a lifelong nightmare.
Anita was from a moneyed family and could afford a battalion of powerhouse lawyers,
who emptied Pancho’s bank account with their ongoing litigation.
In July 1963, the divorce was granted and Pancho gained custody of their son, Frank Havard Scheer.
Anita did not like that arrangement and contested it a year later, in July 1964.
In August 1966, Pancho won a $5,428.62 judgment against Anita,
and that was probably when Anita vanished with their son to México.
Pancho tried to trace them down but was never able to.
He learned that Anita had changed their son’s name to Paco Carr,
but he was never able to find him again.
Anita later popped up in NYC, but even so, the search for the son was a lost cause, and it ate Pancho alive.
I know for a fact that Pancho no longer called himself Pancho.
He called himself Frank and his youthful nickname was entirely forgotten.
He refused so much as to set foot in his old cinema ever again because the memories were too painful.
My attempts to trace down
Don Dee Dunham have not been successful.
The last address and phone number I can find were from Bayfield, Colorado,
but I don’t think he lives there anymore.
He was born in 1930 and I suppose he has passed away.
If anybody can help me locate him or his family or friends,
please let me know. Thanks!
Okay, that was the sad introduction.
Now let’s begin to get to the cinema per se, little by little, in its new incarnation.
Text: Copyright © 2019–2021, Ranjit Sandhu.
Images: Various copyrights, but reproduction here should qualify as fair use.
If you own any of these images, please contact me.
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