Landmark Cinemas

Sometime between January and April 1982, Landmark Cinemas purchased the Movie, Inc., properties and worked out an agreement by which Movie, Inc., would dissolve. The #1 and #2 of Movie, Inc., then became bigshots at Landmark, and that is why I do not go to Landmark Cinemas, no matter what might be playing. Well, one time, when I was looking for a job, I passed by a 1920’s neighborhood movie palace. I no longer wanted to work in cinemas, but I had not had a regular job in months and my bank account was only fifteen or twenty dollars away from zero. Desperation took over. That’s why the movie palace caught my attention. I stopped my car and walked in to see if I could submit an application. Before I could ask my question, I saw LANDMARK CINEMAS on a sign in the lobby. I said, “Landmark Cinemas? Well, I’ll never get a job here,” and I left. Then, against my will, I was taken thrice to a different Landmark Cinema, but I got in for free, and anonymously. Long, bizarre, surreal story that I prefer not to go into; suffice it to say that my attendance was not of my own choosing. First I saw Tarnation (horrid movie of self-absorption), then I saw The Mudge Boy (a thousand times worse), and finally I saw The Corporation (quite good), and, when I turned around, I saw that Philippe Mora and his wife were sitting right behind me. We said Hi. I have no way to reach him. I wish he would ring me up sometime. I was distinctly uncomfortable about being in the building each of those three times, and I was relieved to get away. Nobody on staff knew me, and I didn’t recognize anybody. Never again.

Oh, I should mention an anecdote, just for the sake of completeness. When I walked into that neighborhood movie palace and saw the LANDMARK CINEMAS sign inside, I didn’t immediately walk out. I said that, before I walked out forever, I wanted to know one thing: Was the organ still there? One of the guys behind the candy stand said that, no, of course not, no one in his right mind would keep the organ, because it was too dangerous to keep an organ in a building. I was totally confused. Huh? He explained: Organs spontaneously combust. I didn’t even know how to respond. Even had that not been a Landmark Cinema, I would never have gotten along there.

As is obvious, I never wanted to work in cinema again, or even in theatre. I had worked in five cinemas and three stage theatres, and, in addition, I got occasional one-night or two-night gigs in some other cinemas. In almost every case, I was hornswoggled. What’s worse, I knew from the outset that I was about to be hornswoggled, that I was walking straight into a trap, with my eyes fully open. I was like the battered wife who allows herself to be sweet talked into going back to her abusive husband, who promises never to do it again. It doesn’t work. It always happens again. Always. Theatre and cinema are vicious enterprises that destroy the lives of those on the bottom rungs. No more. I was done. Forever.

Nonetheless, after months and months of only the rarest temporary employment, I was in pain from the hunger, and my buddy was sick and tired of me staying at his place and sleeping on his sofa every night. He was so desperate to get rid of me that he handed me the name and union-office telephone number of an acquaintance at the MPMO so that I could get a job and get out of his abode at long last. I was so desperate that I agreed to phone this gentleman. Why did I not see what was coming? “Have you ever adjusted a platter?” “No. I mostly ran 2,000' reels. When I did run platters, for a brief time, the house tech made those adjustments.” “Have you ever rotated a xenon bulb?” “No. I mostly ran 2,000' reels with carbon arc. When I ran xenon, the house tech rotated the bulbs.” “Can you test and adjust Dolby Digital processors?” “No, most of the houses I ran were monaural or after-market optical stereo, and so I never had a chance to learn digital.” That was the end of that telephonic job interview. Those were the only three required skills, and I failed the exam with a zero percent. Ho hum. Just as well. Right after that, I got a publishing job! That was rather surreal.

You see, courtesy of a referral, I briefly worked for Animation Magazine. When I had my job interview in, I think, late September 2003, the co-owner told me that the staff worked coöperatively with Landmark Cinemas. “Landmark?” I asked. “Yes. Did you work there?” I told her I had worked for Movie, Inc., before Landmark. She lit up, because, she said, everybody really liked my old boss and thought he was just wonderful, and everybody on staff was very close with him. She filled me in a little bit, saying that his new wife was the owner of Danni.com. I had no idea what that was. She told me what it was. Oh ho, so he dumped a Playboy Bunny and married a rich porn star instead. Alpha male. I never could make sense of alpha males, just as alpha males never could make sense of me. I had to ask, “Whatever happened to his first wife? I can’t even remember her name.” The co-owner of Animation Magazine told me her name, and I shouted out: “Yes! Of course! Whatever happened to her?” “She killed herself.” I was in shock, and immediately, unthinkingly, reflexively asked, “ Did —— drive her to it?” Why did that shoot out of my mouth? I do not know why. There was no reason for me to think that, but some idea was apparently whirling around in my subconscious. It was ridiculous, but that’s what was buried somewhere in the back of my imagination. As soon as I blurted out that stupid question, I realized I had just ended my job prospects there — but, no, they hired me anyway, and we all got along. I’ll tell you, though, from that moment to the present time, I regret not having introduced myself at her clothing shop. Maybe I could have made a difference?