This is the next entry in a Theatre… a Movie… and a Time, a series that was begun here. The primary reason for this download is the fact I’ve yet to finish the significant movies from my youth. That and the fact three articles, two from Dan’s blog, today’s Movies That Everyone Should See and a Tossin’ It Out There: What Movie Reminds YOU of Your “Younger Days”? from awhile back, where my particular comment coincided with the film highlighted days later by Trailers From Hell, brought it all back to the forefront.
Benjamin: “Listen to me. What happened between Mrs. Robinson and me was nothing. It didn’t mean anything. We might just as well have been shaking hands.”
Mr. Robinson: “Shaking hands? Well, that’s not saying much for my wife, is it?”
The Park Theatre:
Images c/o Cinema Treasures site
January 1968: now, officially a teenager, I began my own rebellion in what would be the tumultuous year of 1968. If I could be contrary, as hormones and attitude dictated, I was, more often than not. “Why the Hell not?!?” Its accompanying sibling, Sullen, a term I’d learn of, and hear often, wouldn’t really turn up till after I entered high school.
Still, junior high was the place to begin flexing those adolescent bearings. It’s also the place where the ness brothers, awkwardness and self-consciousness, strode in with it. One found out, especially among your peers going through the same, even in the most crowded of situations, how lonely one could truly feel.
Back then, at the central train station of commotion that was my grandmother’s home, while ’67 changed into ’68, my aunts (and their husbands) discussed Mike Nichol’s The Graduate. They even allowed moi to ask questions about the film. More, my girl cousin, the closest relative in age (younger by one year) had already seen it (with her parents!).
That did it. Between her describing Dustin Hoffman (“Who the heck is that?”) laying atop a woman in a hotel room, and Anne Bancroft flashing him, I HAD to see the film. The Park Theatre was the smallest of the movie halls in Huntington Park. And it was place where second runs of releases arrived. The Park would catch those movies that already played at the Warner and the California Theatres.
It was perhaps fitting I’d see the movie there. Getting into here was easier than those other two halls, especially if you didn’t have parents to chaperone you. Not surprisingly, what I thought I knew about the motion picture turned out to be very little, or how it would hit me. That was uniquely true by the time the film’s intro burst on the screen, to the tune of Simon & Garfunkel’s The Sounds of Silence, and how it impacted on the one watching it in the dark.
“Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again…”