Tag Archives: 1930s

How Popcorn Saved the Movies

 

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Apologies for the delayed post, readers. Holidays and other necessities of living have gotten in the way of a timely posting since the California wildfires of early November. We’re still recovering as a state but the good news is that we’ve had some rain, the smoke has cleared, and the fires have been put out. Thanks to everyone for your beautiful comments and concern.

In other news, I went to see Alfonso Cuarón’s Roma this evening at the lovely Landmark Shattuck in Berkeley (if you haven’t seen Roma, please rush out. It’s a breathtaking achievement, and takes much influence from prior cinematic movements–I may make a post about this later.) As I waited for the film to start, my mind wandered as I ate my box of popcorn. I ruminated on the origins of popcorn as a movie theater snack, and how it came to be. The story is actually quite an interesting one, with roots in the political and social history of the United States.

Popcorn was a popular street food at fairs and carnivals going back to the 1800s. It was a cheap, tasty treat, a luxury that people from any social class could afford. This, along with its messiness and noise, made it particularly loathsome to those in the burgeoning movie theater business. When the first movie theaters were built, the managers directed their advertising and aesthetic to the highbrow, theatergoing clientele. As the movies were silent and intertitles were used to convey speech, audience members had to be literate, which made movies most accessible to members of the educated upper classes. Patrons dressed in their best clothes, carpets were rolled out in the theater foyer and the audience was expected to be on its best behavior, just as they would be at any other theater. Any distraction such as munching or snacks spilled on the floor was unacceptable, and as such, there was no popcorn or any other food sold in the theater, nor was anything allowed in.

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The Embassy Theatre in Seattle, WA shows Greta Garbo’s first talkie, Anna Christie, 1930

Then sound came to the movies. In the years between 1927 and 1929, between the release of The Jazz Singer and the time when sound became industry standard, the movie business went through upheavals in just about every department. Hand cranked cameras had to be replaced with synchronized sound devices. Actors with vocal problems lost their careers. Theaters had to convert their auditoriums to be conducive to sound. And because the need for intertitles disappeared, the movies began to attract a different, less literate, more common crowd. That crowd would frequently show up at the door with a bag of popcorn, which had to be checked along with coats and hats.

The coming of sound happened to coincide with the first signs of the Great Depression. The combination of rising costs due to theater renovations for sound, and a stock market that was starting to spin out of control, was a death knell for many small town theaters. All over the country, theaters closed their doors due to their financial inability to make the changes needed to stay in business.

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The Cabrillo Theatre in San Diego, CA

However, people still flocked to the movies. The common man needed to escape from the world of breadlines and unemployment, and for a few cents he could do just that at a movie theater. Some particularly clever theater owners saw a way to keep the doors open for those needing entertainment. They tossed aside their hesitancy to allow snacks, and began to allow outdoor popcorn vendors to pay for space inside the theater, getting customers in the door to see a movie and bringing in the extra fees brought by the vendors. Eventually, theaters began to sell popcorn themselves. Using the extra money from popcorn sales, theaters were able to satisfy their clientele and survive the Depression. Other theaters caught on and began selling popcorn, saving themselves from the brink of closure. Eventually they added concession stands that included candy and drinks, and their profits skyrocketed.

The 1940s confirmed popcorn as the ultimate movie snack. World War II saw a decrease in the amount of candy and drinks that could be sold, due to the strict war era rationing requirements on sugar. Because of this, theaters heavily pushed popcorn as the snack to buy, and it has stuck ever since. Now, it is an absolute necessity. Due to the complex web of distributors and studios that go into bringing a film to your local theater, none of the money from ticket sales actually goes to your theater. The theater only earns money through the sale of concessions, of which popcorn is still the biggest sell.

So next time you go to the movies, be sure to get a bag of popcorn, support your theater, and remember this history as you eat!

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CLFP: “Nothing Sacred” (1937)

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The Carole Lombard Filmography Project is back in full swing, after your humble author took it upon herself to put it on hold until the Dueling Divas Blogathon was finished. I am happy to say that Carole has come back, and the next film to be covered is one of my favorites, and a hallmark film in her career.

Much is made of Carole Lombard’s angelic and ethereal beauty. Despite her tragically short time in movies she was considered to be one of the great beauties of the 1930’s, and never was her beauty more apparent than in Nothing Sacred, the first screwball comedy shot in Technicolor and Carole Lombard’s first and only feature shot using the relatively recent invention. Nothing Sacred holds a place as one of the very first films to have made full use of Technicolor technology, and the visuals are strikingly soft, almost like a watercolor painting.

When discussing this film in film circles, it has become something of an expectation to bring up what a shame it was that Carole Lombard didn’t have a chance to make more movies in Technicolor, as color film was clearly a medium on which she could make her mark. Her gentle features are highlighted and accentuated, and it is difficult for the viewer to look at anyone else when she is onscreen.

Lombard plays Hazel Flagg, a young woman who has been told she is dying of radium poisoning. A New York newspaperman named Wally Cook (Fredric March), demoted to the obituary section as punishment for trying to pass an ordinary Harlem resident off as an African prince at a charity event, learns of her story and decides it would make a sensational news piece. However, little does Wally know that Hazel has just been told by her doctor that the diagnosis was incorrect, and she is actually in perfect health. When Wally goes to her hometown in Vermont, Hazel jumps at the chance to leave her small town in Vermont and go to New York City, not telling Wally that the diagnosis was incorrect. The name of Hazel Flagg becomes synonymous with tragedy, and no one doubts the validity of her story. But when Wally calls in a renowned expert on radium poisoning, everything begins to fall apart in hilarious ways.

Though Nothing Sacred is indeed considered a screwball comedy, it is strikingly dry in comparison to the zany and madcap My Man Godfrey, released the previous year. Nothing Sacred is a far tighter film–instead of being character-driven like My Man Godfrey, the complex satire that makes up the plot is the primary focus in this movie.

Underneath the humor, Nothing Sacred also makes a serious commentary on the influence of the news media and the nature of fame. Hazel Flagg symbolizes the ability of a single person to dupe and manipulate the media in order to achieve recognition, and Wally Cook is an example of the exceptional lengths to which a newspaperman will go to get a story. These are problems that continue to be relevant today, and in the aftermath of some recent political events the movie is all the more poignant. Through screwball humor and comedic antics, with Carole Lombard giving a magnificent comedic performance as Hazel, Nothing Sacred succeeds in touching upon a serious issue in journalism with aplomb, sharp wit, and a fair amount of irony.

See you next time!