Where I Was Last Night

Even though I had heard of the Pickwick Theater--the Art Deco jewel of a movie house in the northwestern suburb of Park Ridge--I'd never been there before last night, when Mr. E and I went there for a showing of the Douglas Fairbanks version of Robin Hood.

It was being shown as part of this year's Silent Summer Film Festival, which has moved its showings around from venue to venue for the last couple of years due to the abrupt closure of the Portage Theater in the spring of 2013. (The Portage recently reopened its doors, so I hope the Festival will return there in 2015--and that, by that point, I'll be gainfully employed again and able to afford to go to more than one movie.) We arrived slightly late--Mr. E had never been there before either, so we got a bit twisted up on the suburban roads), but we still caught all but the opening credits and thoroughly enjoyed Fairbanks as he jumped, skpiied and generally threw himself around for two hours.

Also? I bought the T-shirt, as I always do, knowing full well that it would likely feature the exquisite Louise Brooks (since the Festival opened this year with It's the Old Army Game, a comedy featuring Brooks and W.C. Fields).

As well preserved and beautiful as the Pickwick is, though, I look forward to the fest's return to the Portage next year.

Where I Was Last Night

I've long been a fan of silent films in general and the works of Charlie Chaplin in particular, but I must confess that, if I had to choose any of his films to watch, The Kid wouldn't be my top choice. It was a sensation in its time--feature-length comedies were still a relative rarity in the early 1920s, and Chaplin's mix of slapstick and genuine drama was an innovation that revolutionized screen comedy. Today, though, it comes off as slight and manipulative. Chaplin could (and would) do better.

Still, when the Silent Film Society of Chicago announced they'd be screening The Kid, I was determined to go--partly because I miss the screenings the Society used to have regularly at the nearby Portage Theater (shuttered last year in a dispute between the new owner and the city) and partly out of love for the Patio itself.

Sadly, the Patio itself will be shuttered again soon.

After closing in 2001 for "renovation," the Patio reopened to much fanfare in 2011, but has struggled with various challenges over the past three years. It started out showing mainstream movies on a second-run basis, but found there just wasn't enough of an audience for that--not enough for a 1,000-seat theater, anyway. The owner switched to more of special event format, with screenings of classic and rarely seen films. That seemed to go well until the theater started breaking down--first the air conditioning, then the boiler, then water damage during our brutally cold winter.

Thus, last night's showing took on extra significance--It was likely the last time most of the folks who attended would see the glory of the Patio, at least for a while.

The film was accompanied by the Greensboro (N.C.) Youth Orchestra, and they did a wonderful job with the score that Chaplin wrote for his silent classic many years after the advent of sound. At the end of the showing, the audience stood up and delivered a prolonged, exceedingly loud ovation.

I had the feeling we weren't just cheering the orchestra, though they certainly deserved it, nor just the Silent Film Society, nor the Little Tramp, now 100 years old. We were giving a proper sendoff for the Patio itself.

Who knows? Maybe this will only be temporary. I fervently hope so. In the meantime, though...I'll miss you, Patio. There are so few theaters like you left anywhere anymore.

Come back soon. Please.

Shocktober 10/12/12

Where I'll Be Tonight

Tonight is the final night of the annual Silent Summer Film Festival at the grand Portage Theater.

The final night of these festivals always shade me with melancholy--as much fun as I have on these final nights, I know the fest is over and won't be back around until the following summer, though silent films will still be shown there from time to time in the interim and even more frequently--monthly, in fact--at the Music Box's wonderful (and strangely underrated) Silent Second Saturday series.

This year, though, the melancholy is a bit more noticeable--because the future of the Portage Theater remains in doubt.

While it's true that the Portage dodge the proverbial bullet last month when Chicago Tabernacle withdrew their bid to buy the theater and convert it into a church, another possible buyer came forward: The current owner of the popular Congress Theater.

The Congress, once a movie palace (I saw my first movie there) and now a music venue affiliated with Chicago's House of Blues, has become a controversy magnet in recent years, most because of the condition of the theater and its attached building (rundown and shabby, with promises to fix the facility up and turn it into a showplace largely unfulfilled) and security concerns within and without the venue (a teenage girl who'd tried to get into the theater this past New Year's Eve was sexually assaulted very close to the theater, and there have been numerous reports of unruly patrons causing trouble).

The worry--a legitimate one, I think--is that said current owner of the Congress will buy the Portage, turn it into a full-time concert venue and run it just as "well" as he's run the Congress.

I would love for the Portage to remain what it is--primarily a movie theater--but I have to be realistic: It may not always be so, and this Silent Summer Film Festival could very well be the last held there. Somebody with deep pockets can come along and turn the Portage into whatever their cash and ego dictate. I just want the new owner, whomever that winds up being, to recognize the jewel they will have in their hands and polish it the way it deserves to be.

Where I Was Tonight

Where I'll Be Tonight

Tonight is the opening night of the 2012 Silent Summer Film Festival at the Portage Theater. This would ordinarily be more than enough cause for celebration--I love old movie theaters and I love silent films, what's not to like?--but with yesterday's announcement that Chicago Tabernacle had dropped its bid to buy the portage and turn it into a church, tonight should be a flippin' party.

Breaking News

The Portage Theater has announced on their Facebook page that Chicago Tabernacle has officially withdrawn its bid to buy the theater and convert it into a house of worship.

I have two reactions to this news:

1. I would like to sincerely thank Chicago Tabernacle for withdrawing their bid. This move (or non-move, if you prefer) is the best decision for all involved, and there are many people who will be more than happy to help you find an alternate location. I hope that you find a site that best suits your needs--you will be an asset to any neighborhood lucky enough to have you.

2. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Save the Portage!

As you may or may not have heard, the Portage Theater is threatened with extinction.

For those of you who haven't heard, here's the condensed version: The owner of the building that houses the Portage, several shops and apartments put it up for sale last year. The proposed buyer is Chicago Tabernacle, a church organization on the Northwest Side that wants to greatly expand the space for their congregation. Unfortunately, that would mean shutting down the Portage as a movie theater and removing the marquee. The Portage, as we know it, would be no more.

As you might imagine, this caused all sorts of alarms to ring for cinephiles, architecture buffs, business owners in the Six Corners district and the local alderman, John Arena. (Ald. Arena received hundreds of messages in opposition to the proposed change--and only one in favor.) There have been rallies at the theater and vocal shows of support for the theater at Zoning Board meetings. There is even a Facebook page dedicated to the cause.

In spite of all this vocal opposition and the presence of many viable options--lots of empty churches and plenty of buildings that could be converted for this worthy use--Chicago Tabernacle is pressing forward, trying to get the zoning change necessary to make the conversion. Why they would want to make such an unpopular move that would alienate the very neighbors and businesses they would like on their side--a move that would hurt a host of businesses and individuals in a very personal way and would wipe out a successful, popular business to boot--is well beyond me. They have the legal right to do so, however, so forward they go.

To voice my own opposition, I wrote the following letter to the chairman of the Zoning Board of Appeals, Jonathan Swain, and mailed it this past Tuesday:

Dear Chairman Swain:

I am writing in opposition to Chicago Tabernacle's request to change the zoning status of the Portage Theater to allow the theater to be converted into a house of worship.

My opposition has nothing to do with Chicago Tabernacle's status as a religious organization. I live several blocks away from their current location (at the corner of Berteau and Troy) and have always regarded them as a good neighbor and a positive influence. Rather, my opposition has everything to do with the economic disaster this zoning change would rain down on the Six Corners business district—a district I visit frequently due to the presence of the Portage (especially during the annual Silent Summer Film Festival).

Had Chicago Tabernacle proposed this change a decade ago, when the Portage was sitting empty and abandoned, Portage Park and Six Corners business likely would have welcomed this proposal with open arms. However, that is no longer the case—the Portage is not empty and abandoned and has not been for quite some time. It is a entrepreneurial success story of which all of Chicago should be proud.

In neighborhoods across the North Side, movie houses act as economic magnets, drawing patrons not only to the theaters themselves, but to surrounding businesses: Bars, restaurants, grocery stores, clothing shops and book vendors. Ask the restaurant owners along Southport how they'd feel if the Music Box were to shut down. Ask the businesses surrounding the Logan how well they did when that theater closed down for renovations last year—and how happy they are now that it's open again. Ask the shop operators around Portage Park's own Patio, which reopened last year after closing in 2001, how much business has picked up in the last year. Ask the folks at the Daily Bar & Grill, Laurie's Planet of Sound and Essence of India how they'd feel if the four screens of the Davis suddenly went dark.

That last one isn't merely theoretical—it almost happened.

Just over a decade ago, the Davis was threatened with closure. The building's then-owner put it up for sale, and a developer wanted to buy the property, convert the apartments into condominiums and use the theater space for parking. The neighborhood spoke up loudly in opposition to this proposed zoning change—just as Portage Park is speaking up loudly now—and the developer, much to his credit, withdrew his bid for the building. Another buyer was found, and, all these years later, the Davis still thrills audiences with the latest Hollywood blockbusters while still drawing customers to many diverse businesses all over Lincoln Square.

The Portage does the same thing for Six Corners—it draws people from all over the city to experience not only its eclectic programming—from horror films and independent cinema to film noir classics and forgotten gems of the silent era—but to enjoy the restaurants and shops within short walking distance of this 90-plus-year-old institution.

As I noted above, the Portage Theater is an entrepreneurial success story. Please do not bring that story to an abrupt, premature end. Please don not deliver what would not only be an emotional blow to fans of classic cinema and architecture, but a very real, devastating blow to the businesses that currently surround the Portage and to any businesses planning to come to Six Corners and enhance what already is an exciting, vital business district.

Please do not grant Chicago Tabernacle's request to change the zoning status of the Portage Theater to allow the theater to be converted into a house of worship.

Thank you, Chairman Swain, for your time and consideration.

The next Zoning Board of Appeals meeting in tomorrow, July 20, at 2 p.m. in the City Council chambers. A decision may well be made regarding the future (or lack thereof) of this much-beloved movie house. I plan to be there.

Where I Was Last Night

Shocktober 10/20/11

Tonight, I'll be at the fabulous Portage Theater to see the original, silent version of Phantom of the Opera. Yes, I've seen it there before (in addition to owning it on DVD and, soon, on Blu-ray), but there's little that can enforce that Halloween spirit nearly as well as Mary Philbin (a native Chicagoan, she was) yanks the mask off of Lon Chaney's face.

Where I'll Be Tonight

With JB and Dee at the Portage Theater tonight for the last show in this year's Silent Summer Film Festival: The Mysterious Lady, starring Greta Garbo.

Every Picture Tells a Story: 8/5/11

Most years, I make it to one or two films in the annual Silent Summer Film Festival at the fabulous Portage Theater. One year, I even made it to three showing during the fest.

This year? I've made it to two out of two movies, I'll be there again tonight and I have tickets already for the remaining three nights. Not only does this mark the first time that I've been to every movie in the Festival, but it also ensures that I'll break--if not outright shatter--my personal record for movies seen on the big screen in one year. (The record, set last year, is 32; I'll have that many before August is over.)

Where I was Friday Night

Every Picture Tells a Story: 7/22/11

This is where I will be tonight, and for several more nights over the next few weeks. Any excuse to go to the gloriously restored Portage Theater is a good one, but the opportunity to see a Louise Brooks movie on the big screen--especially one I've never seen before in any format--is not to be passed up.

Every Picture Tells a Story: 6/4/10

The mighty Kimball organ at the Portage Theater.

Shocktober, 10/30/09, Part 1

Last week, JB and I went to the Portage to see The Bat, a cool old silent horror flick. They had a very nice display in the lobby, too.

2008: The Year in Photos (sort of)

Last Christmas, Mom bought me a digital camera.

This was not what I had asked for. I likely wanted something boring and practical. Sheet sets. Throws. Something like that. And, of course, she bought something else. (This year? I asked for a new electric razor, and she bought one. Wonders? Will never cease.)

Even though I hadn't asked for it, I used the little digital camera regularly. I did not, however, download any photos from it. The software that came with it wasn't compatible with my now-ancient iMac, Polly Jean (she didn't even recognize it as software), and I'd need a system administrator to authorize the installation of the software on my work 'puter (and it's not related to my job, so...SOL). That meant that I had a helluva lot of pictures stored on the camera--216, to be exact--when I finally took it to the Ritz Camera near work and got a CD burned the day after Christmas.

So here, without further comment, are some of the photos from the year that was, such as it was.